#i have felt just flat out awful these past few weeks. and i can at least recognise that. god.

[epicdogymoment]

started journalling about 2 weeks ago because i was given a planner n id chosen to use it incorrectly. cant tell if i feel any better because of it yet

[emeritusemeritus]

omg! saw your requests opening, glad to see you writing and I’ve read nearly all of your works! your writing style and fics inspired me to write more and motivate me so I thank thee for that!

i didn’t know if I would be able to request something like this, but you be willing to write something for both of the Weasley twins? you come home from a bad day, it was absolutely horrendous and overwhelming and you just want to forget about it. would you be able to write both of the Weasley twins willing to blow their mind away in bed to try to make them forget about their day? 🙌

Hi lovely Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m so glad I could inspire you to write more, I’d love to read your work! I hope it’s okay that I added a little Christmas twist. Hope you enjoy! P.s. my own personal headcanon is that Angelina would become a healer after hogwarts, so I made the reader a healer too🖤

Warnings: where do I start… smut, pinv sex, graphic smut, oral (both), fingering, masturbation, slight sub/dom elements, rough sex, overstimulation. Threesomes (no twincest) Readers feeling a bit of a grinch. Healer reader. Christmas stress. Can you tell I’ve worked retail with how much I hate Christmas crowds. Not spellchecker nor beta read.

Word count: 6.7k (some of it is plot I swear)

Fairytale of Diagon Alley

You were turning into the Grinch.

It appeared that when you had kissed your boyfriend's goodbye this morning upon leaving your shared flat above the shop, you had also kissed goodbye to your good mood and any semblance of patience you had left.

There were people everywhere, the whole street of Diagon Alley was packed with frantic christmas shoppers wanting those last minute bargains, forgetting all of their manners and regular etiquette as their heads filled with 'what to get little Timmy' and how Flourish and Botts hadn't even started their sales yet, Godric forbid.

You pushed through the brainless crowds, cringing at the attention you were receiving having walked out of the closed store, protests of unfairness echoing through the street as if you were some VIP patron with early access before the store had opened.   The line of people waiting for Wheezes to open was eye watering and you felt a complex mixture of happiness and sadness for your boyfriends knowing that they would have such a busy day once again, though business would be booming and they'd inevitably make a killing. They'd been exhausted these last few weeks, working extra hours to accommodate the expanse of people whilst importing more stock than ever to see them through peak trade. They'd started the sale two days ago, an offer of buy 3 get 1 free that had skyrocketed sales and had plunged through their stock even quicker than expended, leading to more light nights spent dealing with manufacturers and suppliers to rush through more orders. They did it all with a smile, so warm and welcoming to each customer that it filled you with awe seeing them, knowing that they were running on very little sleep.

You simply huddled down, pulling your coat tighter against your collar to ward off the biting cold and pushed through the crowds with facetious attempts of politeness as you muttered excuse me repeatedly , trying to make your way out of the crowded street. Christmas music was blaring out from the cafe at the top of the street and you cringed as you walked past, the volume almost deafening.

It didn't cheer you, not today. You were just overwhelmed by the amount of people, overstimulated by the ridiculous noise of the music and the constant chatter around you as you were just trying to make your way to work for what you knew would almost certainly be another dreadful day.

You paused outside the entrance to the abandoned looking department store Purge and Dowse Ltd, heaving a heavy sigh to prepare you for the day, having successfully made it through the crowds... eventually. You loved your job usually, but something about Christmas time just seemed to make people more stupid, less careful and much more irate.

The welcome witch was unpleasant as ever as you stepped into the entrance of the building, seeing a bustling waiting room of people with various maladies and injuries that were certain to keep you on your toes today.

"St Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries," the receptionist Barbara welcomed the next person waiting to be booked in, her usual overly-cheery voice ringing out along the corridor, pausing her speech to wave at you warmly as you walked past. Her hair was transfigured into a Christmas tree shape though it was leaning at the top with tinsel wrapped around for good measure and a couple of illuminated lights in her hair that were flickering on and off in an uneven pattern, which you noticed she kept trying to fix with her wand though she was largely unsuccessful.

"Ready for another fun day?" Angelina asks sarcastically as you change into your uniform, casting the usual enchantments upon the regulated clothes to protect them from all manner of horrors. Knowing that you don't have to hide your real emotions from Angelina, you sigh and let out a long whinge, resting your head dramatically on her shoulder. She laughs whilst stroking your hair, the two of you sharing a moment together as you prepare for the day, enormously thankful that at least your best friend would be on the same shift as you today, both of you successful in following your calling to become a healer.

"Just think, 12 hours to go and you'll be back fighting your way back to the flat through the Christmas crowds!"

The whinge that fell from your lips was louder and longer than the first and held nothing back of how you truly felt.

Angelina didn't need to be part seer to foresee the future but she sure got it right in predicting with almost perfect accuracy the horror of Diagon Alley upon your return. If anything, she had downplayed the horror of your return as it seemed even busier than this morning, with people covering almost every square inch of the cobbled street. You briefly wondered if everyone stood on a singular cobble, if there'd be any room at all for more people.

Children were squealing with excitement, some crying at the top of their lungs about being denied early gifts. Three boys in the corner near Fortescue's had found a small patch of untouched snow and were crafting snowballs to throw at each other though their sense of aim was way off and had instead found it much more enjoyable to cast the snowballs into the crowd to hit unsuspecting shoppers who most appeared indifferent to the attacks, probably not even noticing.

It was sheer mayhem and all you could think of was getting home, taking a bath and soaking away the stresses of your very long day. It had been none stop from the second you arrived on the ward, with new challenges and issues that often rendered you speechless. You were beyond stressed and weary, the long days and the disregulation of routine completely throwing you off. You'd barely spent any time with your boyfriends these past weeks, even after they'd employed temporary staff over the busy period. The flat was increasing in mess and clutter everyday and you found yourself caring less everyday, completely void of motivation. Presents needed to be wrapped, some still left to be bought, Christmas cards to be written, food to be ordered and collected. You needed to confirm with Molly what time you'd be arriving on Christmas Eve, the plan on everyone staying at the Burrow in their old bedrooms ready for a big family Christmas seeming more and more welcoming with each passing day as you craved simpler times, away from the stresses of an adult Christmas. You lamented the days at Hogwarts when everything was easy, when it was just you, the twins and your friends around a perfectly elf-prepared Christmas dinner with gifts that were more gestures of love before money and being an adult ruined everything.

Your feet were hurting, you were exhausted, you were sick of fighting through crowds morning and night each time you left the flat. You needed to sort the Floo network but each and every time you resolved yourself to asking Fred to have a look, you'd see him walk in exhausted and the request would fall from your lips upon seeing the deepening purple bags under his eyes. You didn't know the first thing about floo networks or where to even start on fixing it or asking someone to look so you left it alone, the entire thought process dropping from your mind the second you were home every time without fail until you were faced with the unpleasant crowd once again.

The sights and sounds of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes flooded out into the dark street like a lighthouse at sea, the bacon of light that guided you home. As overwhelmingly pleased as you were to see it in all its glory, knowing you were so close to being home you were also a little downtrodden at the sight of so many people still out shopping. The closer you got, you could see George on the third floor near the explosives section, helping yet another customer with their purchases as he pointed out various whizzbangs on the wall between Fred's blaze box and George's compendium box of pyrotechtrix. You couldn't see Fred anywhere but you could spot Verity through the window looking frazzled at the till. You snook around the back and let yourself in with the appropriate charms, begrudgingly taking each painful step up the back staircase near the storeroom to make your way to the flat, the noise and the bustle from the shop falling silent as soon as the door was closed.

You sighed in relief as you toed off your shoes and hung up your bag and coat, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer number of layers that you were wearing as you frantically unwrapped your scarf and tugged off your hat with very little care of what your hair looked like underneath. You wanted to make a cup of tea but couldn't even muster the energy even with magic and so you walked straight to the bathroom and began running a bath, ignoring any messes you could see along the way.

You pulled off your clothes with determination, desperate to rid yourself of the day and soak in the bath full of bubbles. The bath was huge, one of the many benefits of being in love with two very tall men who had both insisted on a bathtub that could accommodate their whole bodies without question.

You lit a candle and placed it on the windowsill to illuminate the room, praying that the outline of your naked figure couldn't be seen by all of Diagon Alley.

Slipping into the hot bath felt like heaven. Your skin was pleasantly tingling from the warmth and you felt your eyes closing instinctively as you head tilted back to rest on the edge of the tub. You felt soothed, both in body and soul as you sank deeper into the water, finally finding peace in your day.

You don't know how long you are lay there floating somewhere between relaxed and dozing until you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

"Well this is a welcomed sight," you hear George say as he steps into the bathroom after you'd told him to enter. He looks tired but happy, his eyes roaming over you in the bath, no doubt trying to see exactly how much of your body was covered by the bubbles. You smile, holding your hand out for him to take as you look up to him with heavy eyes.

"You should have joined me," you smile, knowing that it wouldn't have even been an option, but it was nice to think of.

"I'd have burned down the shop to have jumped in there with you," he says with a deep chuckle, perching on the side of the tub with you, his hand still holding yours.

"You're going to get wet," you say as a soft warning, eyes roaming over his work suit.

"Don't care," he replies quickly, his other hand scooping up some of the extra bubbles, eyes lighting up with mischief as he suddenly blows the bubbles back towards you. You squeal seeing the bubbles flying towards your face and flail slightly to get your face away from the incoming bubbles as George laughs.

"Hello ladies," George smirks, staring at your breasts as they become exposed by your flailing, the bubbles no longer concealing you. Your eyes widen and you scramble to cover your chest with your arms instinctively.

"Angel," he says, one brow slightly raising as he reaches to stroke your concealing arm, gently beginning to pull it away from you, though his touch is gentle enough for you to keep it there if you're uncomfortable. "I've been looking at these pretty tits for years, don't go shy on me now."

With the look in his eye and his smooth voice, you're helpless to resist and pull your arm away from your body with a slight bite of your lip. Seeing his eyes feast upon your exposed chest is instantly arousing, your naked form so vulnerable to his fully clothed self. The mood in the small room has shifted almost instantly, the calm and peaceful atmosphere now filled with a need, the tension between you both so overwhelming. His eyes are half lidded but it's no longer from tiredness as he looks up to your eyes again, pausing as if he's considering his next move before he leans forward, capturing your lips in a dangerously loaded kiss. You want to reach out for him, to run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer to you by his tie but you're wet through and you'd inevitably soak his favourite suit.

"George! Where are you, you're needed out here!" You hear Fred calling up the stairs and pull apart, a quiet sigh of disappointment falling from your lips as your shoulders sink like a deflated balloons. George growls as he pulls away, his head resting on yours with his eyes still closed, evidently we wound up and frustrated as you by the sudden interruption.

"Hold that thought baby okay? 30 minutes and we're all yours, I want you right here when I'm done."

With one last smirk and a delicate kiss placed upon your forehead, George steps out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You throw your head back onto the side of the tub in frustration, arousal swirling through your body with no outlet now to relieve that need. The thought of having to wait for at least another half an hour was killing you but there was nothing you could do about it.

You tried to stay in the bath just as George had requested but you found yourself growing cold even after enchanting the water back up to the warmth of before once again but you were no longer relaxed, unable to find that sense of peace. You were too wound up, too aware of your naked body, the hardening of your nipples and the ache between your thighs that seemed to be calling out to you for relief.

You heaved yourself out of the bath with a frustrated groan, not even sure what you were annoyed at. Before George had walked in you'd been perfectly content to just lie there and put your day behind you. If Fred hadn't had called out for him, if the shop wasn't open so bloody late, if the customers would just go home. You were spiralling but didn't care, for once you just wanted the night to go how you wanted it to go, for your needs to be met and to come first for a change. Groping for the towel, you quickly dried yourself off and walked into the bedroom, cursing Merlin under your breath at the state of the room. Wardrobe doors left open with various ties scattered around as if someone had been looking for a specific one this morning and simply discarded all the rest. Your pyjamas from last night were thrown in a pile in the corner of the room, the bed wasn't made and various pieces of clutter decorated the vanity that had become a dumping ground for all three of you. You cursed again when you stepped on the corner of a pin badge, one of the many iconic 'W' badges that your husbands wore in the shop discarded on the floor. You reached for your wand and cast numerous cleaning charms, not even caring on how they would clash, just praying that they would sort out the room.

You threw on your comfiest, baggiest clothes and threw the towel towards the rough direction of the bathroom, watching briefly as it got caught up in the crossfire of the charms you'd used.

Gone were the thoughts of a quiet night or any hope of some stress relief fucking that you'd so desperately needed. Apparently your lack of sexual relief had caused you to become increasingly frustrated and short, your lip fixed into a near permanent pout as you sulked about your day. You wouldn't entertain ideas of making dinner, despite your stomachs grumbling protest and opted instead to flip down onto the sofa, pull out your book and ignore the rest of the world- especially the 'Christmas to do list' that lay infront of you almost mockingly on the coffee table.

"You were meant to be in the bath sweet girl," George says as both he and Fred entered the flat after close. Your eyes flicker up to the clock on the wall and saw that it had not been thirty minutes as promised but instead it had taken nearly double that for George to get back to you. You don't reply, only offering a noncommittal shrug as you fix your eyes back to your book, rereading the same sentence for the third time.

"Hey princess, good day?" Fred asks as he throws himself down onto the sofa beside you, arm immediately reaching across the back to where his fingers reach out to run your shoulder.

"Busy."

"Tell me about it," Fred answers, reaching up with his spare hand to undo his top button and loosen his tie, missing the true meaning of your words completely. "So what's for tea?"

You slam your book down onto the coffee table and march off towards the bedroom without a single word, barely holding in your groan of annoyance at his lack of sensitivity. It wasn't just down to you to think about meals all the time, to do the bloody shopping and start preparing a meal when you'd already worked twelve hours, having to fight through the stupid crowds morning noon and night just to go about your day. You knew they'd had a long day too but it didn't trump yours, didn't mean that they automatically got a pass from adulting because they'd been working hard because you had too.

"Angel?"

You rolled your eyes, knowing what was coming. You didn't answer, hoping that George would just go away. You didn't want sensitivity or broken promises right now, you didn't really know what you wanted but you knew that if George came in here to try and reason with you, you'd go mad.

The second he slips through the door, you know that you'd gotten it very wrong. He wasn't coming to reconcile or to ask you what was wrong to fix the issue, instead his eyes told a completely other story.

"Where did my sweet girl go?" He says, eyes fixed hard as he looks at you, suddenly seeming to be even taller than you pictured. "I kept you waiting too long."

You don't reply, knowing that you'd only say something that you'd later regret.

"I agree it was mean of me, getting you all worked up and leaving you like that, so beautiful and needy."

He knew exactly what he was doing, and unfortunately for your pride, it was working.

He moves closer to you now, his firm towering over you as you sit on the edge of the bed where you'd slumped down, neck craned to stare up at him with a look that is softening more with every passing second.

"But there question is," he says as he squats down in front of you, your eyes lining up once again as you threaten to cower under his blazing eyes and dangerous smirk. "How needy are you?"

You can't help it, your chest heaves at the very same time you have to swallow down your nervous energy, altering George to how well his words were affecting you.

"That bad huh?" You don't know if you want to slap or kiss that smirk off his smug face but all you know is that the fire from earlier had been reignited in the most sinful way possible.

"You think Freddie could help with that too?"

At the very mention of your other boyfriend, you feel your eyes widen slightly with the sudden influx of sinful possibilities crossing your mind, your need and arousal doubling as you fight the need to squirm under his forceful gaze. You nod gently, hardly daring to look away from his mesmerising eyes, your breathing rapidly increasing though it's shallow breaths only.

"You need us to fuck away your day sweetheart?" A second voice says from the side, alerting you to the presence of your other love, his eyes just as fiery as his words. You nod again, biting your lip under the scrutiny of them both.

"Words princess," Fred warns, eyes dark as he prowls over to you.

"Please," you say as if on command, submitting to them so willingly that it's almost alarming.

Their smirks are completely identical as they briefly share a look before turning back to you, stalking closer and capturing you in their arms. George attacks your lips again, his tongue snaking around your lips before mingling with yours in a sinful battle of dominance that he inevitably wins. Fred's lips attack your neck as he joins you on the bed, hands snaking around your waist and up to your breasts where he cups and squeezes with just enough pressure that you gasp onto George's lips. Your hips begin to cant on their own accord, too aroused for you to remain stationary as their hands begin to wander. George's hands replace Fred's on your breasts, his favourite place to play on the wonderland of your body whilst Fred's begin to stroke across your legs, caressing your thighs through your baggy clothes that you deeply regretted wearing.

George pulls away from your lips and tits for only a second as he rips your oversized shirt over your head, leaving your tits exposed to him once again. His eyes glaze over as he looks at your bountiful flesh, his eyes tracing the curves of your body and fixating upon your rosy nipples, so hard and aching for his mouth. You cry out when you feel Fred's big hands snaking around your waist and reaching to cup your breasts, squeezing them together and raising them up for George to take into his mouth, his full lips wrapping around your bud as his tongue pokes out to circle it seductively.

"I want you naked beautiful girl," Fred whispers in your ear, his right hand beginning to toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, long fingers edging closer to your heated core with every stroke.

"Please."

George pulls away from your breasts once again and gives you a devilish smirk as his fingers reach into the top of your waist band whilst Fred pulls you back to recline on him as he slips behind you on the bed. They share a brief look of utter mischief before George rips your sweatpants away from your body leaving you completely exposed to their eyes.

Your legs squeeze together as you look between the three of you, seeing them both still fully dressed in their suits with you wearing nothing but a smile between them, like the prey and the predators together.

Fred's lips trace the lines of your ear down to your neck and your chest rises, back arching in pleasure which seems to welcome George back to caressing your tits, his mouth latching back onto the hardened buds. He breaks away from sucking on your nipples to press a line of kisses up the column of your throat until he captured your lips in a blazing kiss once again, his hands caressing your breasts now instead of his mouth.

"Don't know about you mate, I reckon she's soaking wet for us," Fred says to George almost mockingly, as if you're not lay between them.

"Oh I know she is mate," George says as he pulls away, casting a cursory glance over at you before replying to his twin, "I can see that little pussy glistening from here."

"Ah ah ah," Fred warns with a firm grip of your thigh as your legs squeeze together to offer any relief you can find as their words catapult you towards dangerous levels of arousal.

"That was naughty," George chastises, one single finger on his right hand now trailing down the length of your body towards your core, teasing you.

"Will you be our good girl tonight?" Fred asks in your ear, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through you.

"I'll be your good girl," you say breathlessly, needing more than what you were getting.

"Then prove it," George says, standing up in front of you and undoing his belt. You watch with rapt attention as he undoes the belt, looping it out of his trousers and throwing it off to the side, nimble fingers undoing the buttons on his tweed trousers and dragging down the zip.

Your mouth waters when you watch him reach into his underwear and pull out his hard cock, already so swollen and throbbing. You force yourself to look away from the delicious sight, up into his eyes to look for his consent, seeing his eyes dark and predatory.

He holds out his cock towards you, gripping it hard in his big hands by the base, offering it for you to take. You waste no time, slipping out of Fred's grasp to crawl forwards on the bed so that your face as near perfectly aligned with your reward. You kick a tentative stripe up from the bottom of his cock towards the tip, circling the bulbous tip and moaning when you taste the faint salty liquid already leaking from his little hole. You lap it up greedily, allowing his cock to rest on your flat tongue as your lips wrap around the entire head before giving him a long and deliberate suck. The growl that you pull from his lips only makes you want to do better, to suck his harder and take him deeper. You allow your mouth to fill with saliva, knowing how sloppy he likes it, how he likes you messy. You push him deeper into your mouth, tongue working over the sensitive veins and ridges until you open your eyes, looking up at him with big, wide eyes that you know he can't resist. His mouth is open, face contorted into pure pleasure as he pants, nose scrunched up as he watches you pleasure him. He pulls away his hand now, knowing that you can take more of his length and his now free hand reaches out to stroke your hair in a way that shows his love for you even in his dominant state.

You take him deeper still, fighting off the urge to choke as you slip him into his throat, immediately rewarded by the most delicious moans and gasps from above, his hand slipping into your hair to gather it. He doesn't force you nor guide your movements but simply holds back your hair in a way that forces you to know that he holds the power here.

Fred, who had been stroking your body as you gag on his twins cock suddenly sits up, unbuckling his own belt as he moves towards you, no longer content just to sit there and watch.

You're acutely aware of your nakedness between the two men who are still fully dressed and suddenly have a desperate urge for them to be just as naked as you, to see their perfect bodies taking yours. Defying their usual expectations, you take it upon yourself to reach out for Fred's trousers, giving a slightly pull trying to silently communicate your needs whilst still pleasuring George.

"Think our girl wants something," Fred says, the smugness in his voice allowing you to almost hear the smirk upon his face.

George's fingers tap gently on your chin and you look up at him as you pull off of his cock with a resounding 'pop', his whole body fighting off a shiver of arousal.

"What does our princess want?" George says, the dominant edge to his voice almost mocking you.

You don't answer verbally, your hands reaching up to fumble with the buttons on his waist coat, wanting his naked. He's still wearing his full suit, jacket and all except for the long cock hanging free from his unbuckled trousers. Fred's equally as clothed only without his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

"You want us just as naked as you sweetheart?" Fred murmurs in your ear, hands wandering again.

"Please," you say sounding desperate, "want to see your bodies as you fuck me."

"Merlin," Fred curses behind you. George's fingers instantly hook under your chin to force you to look at him and he leans down to place a blazing kiss upon your lips with so much force that it knocks you backwards, your words clearly affecting him too.

You can hardly believe your luck when as you get to watch them undress, having a moment of confused sentimentality that this was your life, that only you were in this position. They were so similar and yet so different, even as they undressed. You watched transfixed as their braces were pulled off their bodies, shirts quickly unbuttoned by long fingers and trousers pulled down their long legs until they were bare.

"Is that better sweet girl?" George mocks, moving to stand in front of you. Fred slips back behind you on the bed, maneuvering you so that he can slide in. You can feel the prominent bulge of his erection as his rests on your hip and you fight to control the urge to squeeze your legs again, feeling largely untouched. "Now because you've been so good."

"Lean back on me darling," Fred coos in your ear, handling you backwards until you're resting against his chest, head thrown back onto his shoulder.

"Let me make you feel good."

His hands slip down over your breasts, his fingers reigniting the hardness in your nipples as his gorgoeus, veiny hands cup and squeeze your supple flesh. His fingers trail down your chest and across your tummy making you squirm, hips raising on their own accord as his fingers trail down towards your dripping core.

You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower, legs spreading wide as you allow him access. He strokes over your outer lips, barely ghosting your pussy as he teases, touching your thighs, your outerlips- simply anywhere except where you need him.

When his finger suddenly dips within your folds, collecting the juices that are freely flowing from you and beginning to draw a line right up to your throbbing clit. You cry out as he makes contact with your clip, back arching at the pleasure as he begins to circle it slowly, knowing just how you like it.

Your eyes open and you gasp seeing George sitting directly infront of you, his hand wrapped around his cock as he slowly strokes himself, eyes fixed upon your spread pussy as Fred works his magic.

You're close to the edge already, aching for it, the teasing already too drawn out. Fred senses it right away as your breath catches in your throat, hips canting as you fight back the urge and stops his ministrations. You whine at the sudden loss of contact but stop when you feel his hands on your hip.

"You need my cock darling? I'm aching for you."

"Please Freddie," you gasp, rubbing your ass against his throbbing cock, desperate to have him inside of you.

"Up baby," he instructs, tapping your hip as he kisses your cheek. You lift your hips and Fred scoots down a little, lying flat but propped up on the pillow. He reaches down and holds up his cock for you. You stay facing away from him, lying on top whilst holding your weight on your hands as you align yourself with his gorgeous length.

You can hardly contain the moans as his tip begins to penetrate you, the tip slipping in easily with the wetness between your legs. You're breathless as you push his cock further into you, slipping down until you were taking almost every inch of his cock. He's moaning and breathing heavily underneath you as he keeps a firm hold of your hips to guide you, picking you up slightly only to bring you down a second time, his entire length inside of you. You cry out in perfect synchronisation with Fred as you begin riding his cock hard, bouncing up and down in his lap.

You feel sexy, empowered and yet submissive being so spread out and naked, completely open for George's view as he sits with his cock in his hand almost drooling as he watches you get fucked.

Fred's grip is almost bruising but it only serves as a reminder of his control over you, even if you are the one on top as he stops your hips bouncing, choosing instead to pound you from below as he keeps you still, the feel of his cock overwhelming. He bares the brunt of your weight as he forced you to lean on his chest instead of your hands. His thrusts are forceful and powerful with perfect aim as your head falls back from the overwhelming pleasure, your moans and cries unable to be contained.

You whine as you feel George join you on the bed, his hands grabbing hold of your thighs as he attempts to hold some of your weight whilst keeping you spread open for them. His lips find your clit from above, tongue running over that swollen little nub, latching on giving sharp, quick sucks. You're completely done for, the pleasure taking over your entire body.

Your walls are squeezing Fred who's moaning out your name and growling from below, long fingers still brushing your hips as his thrusts get harder as he approaches his end. George's lips suckle your clit with perfect precision, doubling your pleasure and propelling you towards your orgasm in no time at all.

"I'm, I'm," you try to warn but it's pointless, your climax ripping through your body in a fit of blinding light as you scream out Fred's name, hardly able to hold your head up any longer.

You're lost in pleasure, barely registering fred's orgasm that follows yours within seconds until you feel his cum filling you to the brim, cock lodged in you so deep that you feel he's in your tummy.

He waits for you to get your breath back before slowly pulling out of you, shifting you gently so that you're almost lay beside him, his lips pressing a cool-down kiss onto your own as you feel a stream of cum slowly leaking out.

You're breathless and panting but you still need more, turning to George with expectant eyes, seeing that he's waiting impatiently for you to come back to him.

"On your knees," he commands. You sit up onto your knees and turn away from him now, looking back towards Fred who offers you a loving smile as he leans against the headboard, giving you room.

You gasp when George's hands wrap around your hips, his fingers digging into the marks that Fred had left as he pulls your ass right up to the edge of the bed and presses a hand to the skin between your shoulder blades to push your body down. Your upper half falls forward, ass high up in the air as he grips you with force, his cock already pressed up against your core.

"George," you breathe out in desperation, too worked up for teasing.

The cry that falls from your lips sounds almost non-human as he suddenly pushes forward, his entire length slipping inside your already overworked pussy. The curve of his cock drags purposely against your inner walls and your head drops down onto your arms with the force. He shows no mercy as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing around the room, his balls hitting your clit with every deep thrust. It's agonising pleasure and you scramble with your fingers to reach out for the duvet beneath you to ground yourself. You look up into Fred's eyes when you feel his hand entwine with yours, offering you that support you so desperately needed.

It's a delicious contrast of personality as the usual menace tenderly holds your hand tenderly in support whilst the normally more sensitive twin takes you roughly from behind. He's growling and groaning as your walls stretch and constrict with the pleasure, your body becoming quickly overstimulated as you feel tears well up in your eyes at the sheer sensory overload.

"George!" You cry out, earning a swift spank to your right bum cheek that seems to echo around the room multiple times. The force of the smack, the jarring of your nervous system and the deep growl that emits from George as your pussy clenched on him is enough to renew your arousal to heightened levels. You can feel that telltale feeling in your lower stomach rising, as if it's slowly taking over your entire body, your skin erupting in goosebumps and your hips suddenly trying to squirm against George's hold. It rises within you quickly until you're squeezing Fred's hand, clawing at the sheets and fucking yourself back onto George's cock, your orgasm erupting. You're silent this time, the slow build of the white hot heat rendering you silent.

"Fucking Merlin!" George cries out, pulling out of you and quickly pulling you down into the bed, turning you over with one slight shove to your shoulder. His fist works quickly on his cock as he looks upon your squirming body, breasts heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, legs wide open and a slight line of drool coming from your mouth. You scramble forwards, your mouth wide open for him as you look up into his eyes with a look that you know will finish him off. You watch closely as his face crumbles, eyes squeezing tightly shut as his fist moves quickly along the long column of his cock, catching against the bulbous tip that looks bright pink.

He cries out as he cums, the viscous liquid spraying your face and shooting into your waiting mouth. You taste him on your tongue, leaning forward to engulf his throbbing tip in your mouth to lick up every drop of the salty liquid that addicts you as you watch him shudder.

You fall back onto the bed in an exhausted heap, flanked by two satisfied men mere moment later who instinctively reach out to touch you, their lips pressing against your slightly sweaty hair and any skin they can reach. Fred offers you his handkerchief to wipe off your face which you gratefully accept, wiping off the quickly drying cum from your cheek.

"You did so well sweetheart," Fred murmurs into your ear, his voice soft and quiet as if speaking louder would shatter the bubble you found yourselves in.

"So good for us," George echoes, his hand reaching out to yours to entwine your fingers as you all fight to regain your usual heart rates.

You're exhausted. Unable to reply back to them no matter how many ways you want to compliment them but can't bring yourself to muster the energy to talk and so you sink down into their comforting hold in complete contentment.

"Not that I mind how it's turned out since I asked the first time," Fred suddenly says, his softness disappearing from his voice as he sounds just as mischievous as usual now. "But what's for tea?"

You smack him on the chest playfully, not wanting to answer his question.

"We could go out," George suggests. You instantly groan thinking of the crowds of people that were inevitably still shopping somewhere, all the craziness of London in general and the number of layers you'd have to put back on. You needed a bath again, cum leaking from you and onto the sheets below, your skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat and most of all you just didn't want to leave the flat again.

"We can order in," George offers, hearing your groan. "Order in and work on getting that Christmas joblist sorted, plenty we can get done before bed."

You don't answer, you simply reach down and pull the covers above your head to hide yourself, wishing it was Harry's invisibility cloak, thinking to yourself  that you'd never heard a worse idea in your life.

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[footballerimaginess]

That isn't me

“You said I love you to a girl that isn’t me, how am I supposed to react?”  Daily prompt from @hayleysprompts Trent Alexander Arnold Word Count: 618 The last few weeks had been awful for you, your relationship had been all over social media due to Trent being seen with someone else. The past few weeks had been a blur, you'd moved out of your house due to the press being outside your flats and wanting to know information about your relationship.

You had stayed in bed most of the time, whilst Trent had tried to contact you so much since the video was leaked. But you were in no mood to speak to him. Once again your phone buzzed beside you as your sister walked in. "You need to answer it, he will constantly be ringing. Just go back home, I know you don't want to but I think you should" she suggested as she placed a glass of water on the beside table. "Mm suppose so" you muttered as you pressed the call button. "Hi" you muttered into the phone. "We need to talk, you can't keep avoiding me" Trent grumbled down the phone. "Okay meet me then?" you suggested. "Alright, we need to meet in private. I really don't want to be seen by the paps again" he laughed. "Fine. Choose the place and just text me it" you bluntly replied as you ended the call. - You read the text as you saw where you were meeting, you had to make yourself look a little bit presentable. Something you hadn't done for the past few days was get out of your pyjamas. - You headed to the place you were meeting, walking in as you watched him staring straight at you. "Hi" you muttered as you sat down in front of him. "Thanks for meeting me" he smiled as he sipped on his drink. "Fine, would have liked it not to be so public though what if we get seen again" you muttered as you were starting to feel nervous with eyes all on you. "Sorry, we can leave if you want to. Just walk somewhere quieter with no peering eyes" you nodded as you stood up and walked out of the cafe that had appeared a lot more busier than when you first walked in there. "So how are you?" he asked quietly. "Great, whole of the internet knows my life and that you are a dirty cheat. So yeah, doing fantastic thanks" you rolled your eyes sarcastically. "Cut that out, don't be like that" Trent told you. "Are you being fucking serious right now?" you exclaimed, raising your voice as you felt the rage bubble inside of you. "Yes you are seriously overacting to the video, there is no need to be like this. You know how much I love you and you are being stupid. The video means nothing" Trent told you as he leaned forward to try and grab your hand. "You said I love you to a girl that isn’t me, how am I supposed to react?” you shouted at him as he shook his head. "Oh you are overacting, give over babe. You know my true feelings, this isn't worth arguing over. Just come home now" Trent tried to reassure you but you were having none of it. "I am not overacting at all Trent, you are the one that was plastered all over the internet kissing and saying I love you to someone else. But I should just suck it up, no thanks. Excuse me, I think this conversation is very much done." you stood up "Again are you serious? you are really walking away from this. Why are you doing this to me? walking away from me? whatever" he shouted out as you walked off. This was the start of a new chapter.. Let me know if anyone wants part 2?

[read-write-thrive]

Charles Rowland Week Day Two - Chorb/Comfort

After over three decades as ghosts, you would think that Charles and Edwin would have a good grasp on what ghosts can and can’t do, or even what ghosts could or couldn’t feel, so, etc. Like, ghosts can eat, but it tastes awful. Ghosts can’t sleep at all. That sort of thing. Edwin called them “ghost rules”. Charles also called them ghost rules, but he did his best not to talk about them at all unless directly asked. He’d opened up about missing being alive and all that baggage, yeah, but no need to poke at it, alright?

But lately they’d discovered a new ghost “rule” (ability? Function? Who knows) completely on accident. You see, after the entire fiasco with Esther (and the following quest to get Niko back) the boys had been, frankly, exhausted. They’d done a lot in their thirty years but never so much in so little time. It was weird, to say the least.

“Are you guys sure you’re okay? We can stick around—“ Crystal had tried as they all but herded the girls out of the office. It was past midnight and they should’ve left hours ago, but the boys must look especially bad if their looks were anything to go by.

However, this exhaustion was wearing on the boy’s patience (well, Edwin’s, but Charles had to mediate so it was getting to him too) and frankly, they needed a break. Charles was happy to say as much.

“Nope, all good here! In fact, I think we’ve all earned some time off, so maybe take the next few days to rest, yeah? You sure you don’t want us to walk with you to the tube?” Even his face hurt from smiling, which hasn’t happened since long before he died. There was an alarm bell in the back of his head, but he felt too exhausted to have a proper look at it. He just needed a break is all.

The girls shared a look again. Is this how people felt when he and Edwin did that? Charles didn’t realise it was so annoying.

“We’ll be fine. You have my number right? If anything happens?” Crystal pulled on her coat and helped Niko with her accidentally inside-out sleeve, “And you’re sure that ancient landline even works?”

“As I’ve said, the phone was enchanted to work even without electricity. Barring extremely dire circumstances, it works.” Edwin snapped, lighter than his proper angry tone but still on the edge.

“Do you want us to call you before coming back?” Niko asked towards Edwin, but with a significant, pointed glance at Charles. Charles knew there was something in that look, too, but thinking felt a little difficult at the minute. His head kinda felt like the jar of bees. Maybe he should fish it out of the backpack to compare.

Edwin replied to Niko kinder than he’d been with Crystal but not by much. Crystal snapped at him, probably about his tone with Niko, and then those two were arguing again. Charles really should break it up so the girls could get back to their flat.

God, was this a migraine? Could ghosts get migraines? It’d be just his luck, too. Was there ghost paracetamol he could take? He’d have to dry swallow it since the drink would taste like sand—

There was a hand waving in front of his face. Someone grabbed his arm and shook him. Suddenly Edwin grabbed him by the shoulders, staring him down intently. He was saying something, too. Charles moved to smile and nod, even as he had no idea what was going on, but that seemed to make the pain spike again. He flinched against it. He crossed his arms across himself, though he couldn’t say why. Comfort? Warmth? Guess it didn’t matter much, really.

Several sets of hands were pushing him somewhere—oh, the sofa, right. That seemed like a good idea. Weren’t the girls going somewhere? Or supposed to be, at least. He assumed they were some of the other hands pushing and pulling him along.

He landed on the sofa with little grace, the bouncing making something pulse in his brain is a not nice way. Edwin was there again, hands on Charles’s cheeks and forehead as if checking for fever. It was silly—surely ghosts couldn’t get fevers, if they didn’t have bodies. Edwin knows that.

They were talking to him again. It sounded like he was underwater, sound carrying but only barely. Oh, right. Ghosts weren’t supposed to have whatever was happening now, either. That would explain Edwin’s furious note taking and fussing. Niko was up and about helping him, which meant Crystal had to be the one next to him. Turning his head felt like a bad idea, so he was glad they only had so many people in the vicinity. Process of elimination and all that.

Pain struck at his abdomen next, dull ache turning stabbing in the matter of minutes. He curled in on himself, bringing his feet up onto the sofa and his knees to his face. Clutching at his stomach, Charles squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead into his knees. Maybe if he just curled up tight enough—

It was like his ears popped and every joint cracked at the same time. Charles was pretty sure it was an audible pop! too. But suddenly everything was peaceful, like he was stretched out and condensed into the best full-body hug at the same time. The world was a warm yellow, bright but comfortable. Sure he couldn’t see his friends anymore, but it was blessed relief from whatever the bloody hell that pain was and Charles was absolutely going to bask in it.

After a minute or two of adjusting, Charles realised he could almost hear what was happening in the office. Crystal and Edwin were fighting again, though now Niko seemed to be— cooing over something? Muttering reassurances? He couldn’t catch all the words, but he was pretty sure that was her “finding a literal creature and/or inanimate object adorable” voice. Who/what was she talking to? Shouldn’t she be splitting up the other two? Actually, weren’t the girls supposed to be heading home?

He wanted to ask all of that, but this blissful state didn’t grant him the power of speech, apparently. Charles’s questions came out as a humming noise instead. Surely this should be worrying him—no sight, no speech, hell he’s pretty sure no body—but it was hard to feel worried, or frustrated, or sad here. He felt so good, why would he ruin it with all that? Besides, taking a step back and being relieved of his headache gave him the chance to carefully consider what had just happened.

And he would do that. Definitely. At some point. Look, this was probably the closest he’d gotten to sleep in over thirty years, you can’t blame him for wanting to bask in it for a while, alright? Just a little bit, so Edwin doesn’t kill Crystal (or Crystal somehow double kills Edwin). A bit of rest then he’d figure out how to go back.

~

When Charles “popped” again, returning to the mortal plane or whatever, it was to a pile of blankets and pillows in the middle of the office, wood burning stove lit and his three best friends circled around him. Thankfully they left him enough room to not pop on top of someone.

The girls were asleep, but Edwin was instantly focused on Charles. He went so far as to scurry forward, kneeling between Charles’s flailed legs to, again nonsensically, press at his face for a fever that wasn’t there.

“Charles, you’re back! Are you alright? Do you know what happened? Lord, I— we were worried.” Edwin admitted, dropping his hands and rocking back on his heals to create a smidge more distance.

Charles, genuinely smiling this time, decided he wasn’t a fan of this embarrassment or shame or whatever it was Edwin was dealing with. So, naturally, he leaned forward and threw his arms around his best mate.

“Oh, mate, it was brills…”

—

Day two of @charles-rowland-week !! I am vvvvv sleepy rn so if there’s mistakes no there isn’t 😌 hope y’all enjoyed!

[yanderelionwrites]

Pucker Up, Buttercup (Yandere!Denki Kaminari x Reader)

Synopsis: For some reason, Denki has the notion that giving you your first kiss will bring the two of you closer together...

Content Warning: yandere, implied kidnapping, non-consensual touching, forced kissing

Word Count: 1.9k

Denki Kaminari was an affectionate man. Words weren’t enough for him; he needed action to convey his love. So it hurt his heart to find out that his darling didn’t share the same sentiment.

You hated his touch. Each hug was too tight, every peck on the cheek was too slobbery. Everything he did was too much. You can’t help but flinch every time he comes close, waiting in anticipation for him to smother you in cuddles and kisses.

Denki didn’t know what he was doing wrong. He just wants to love on you, why are you acting scared? He thought taking you and keeping you in his apartment would bring the two of you closer, but it seems to have done the opposite. He thought showering you in affection and gifts would do the trick, but that’s proving to be fruitless too.

The blond sighed as he patrolled through the city on his usual route. His eyes were scanning the streets for danger but his mind was elsewhere. There’s gotta be some way to get you to be comfortable with him. At least to the point where you don’t push him away whenever he hugs you.

He thinks back to his days in U.A., when you actually welcomed his touch with open arms. Denki had never felt so much warmth and kindness from another person before, and he quickly developed a crush within only a few weeks of knowing you. He’d had plenty of other crushes in the past, but with you, it was different. This was something he’d never felt before. You made him feel wanted, needed.

Soon he grew to crave your presence. He just had to have you; he didn’t want to be with anyone else.

Well, he got what he asked for, but not without suffering the consequences. Now, instead of warmth, Denki was met with fear and anger. You wanted nothing to do with him anymore. And it bothered him to no end.

He trudged through the agency he worked at, feeling tired and annoyed that he hasn’t found a solution to improving your attitude towards him. Denki slumped down into his chair, laying his head flat against his wooden desk. Think…how can I win them over again…

“So what’d you think of the manga I lent you? It was good, right?” You asked him, sitting on his dorm bed while he sat on the floor, playing on his Nintendo Switch. 

“Eh, it was kinda cheesy, not gonna lie,” Denki smirked, leaning his head back to look at you. “No way do you actually like reading those trashy romance books.”

“Aw, come on! I thought it was sweet. The way the male lead gave the main character her first kiss at the end, it was so romantic!” You gushed. “Don’t tell me you don’t ever daydream about scenarios like that.”

Denki shrugged, knowing full well that he does dream about that kind of stuff. All the time. With you. But he would never admit that. “Maybe. I just think it’s a little unrealistic.”

“It’s fiction, Kaminari. And a manga. Of course it’s gonna be fluffed up,” You rolled your eyes. Then smiling dreamily, you added, “I hope my first kiss will be that exciting…”

That’s it!

Denki shot up from his seat, causing his coworkers to startle next to him. How has he not thought of this before? He knows for sure that you have yet to have your first kiss, and who better to make it as romantic as can be than him? This will certainly bring the two of you closer! It has to! An ecstatic smile crept onto Denki’s face as he got ready to go home. His cheeks warmed at the thought of feeling your lips for the first time, and he couldn’t wait to see your own flushed face afterward.

By the time he got home, Denki was practically vibrating with excitement. As usual, you weren’t there to greet him at the door, but that was okay. Everything will be better than okay after tonight.

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out, turning on the living room lights while his eyes scanned the room. His brief frown quickly disappeared when he saw your bedroom lights on, the door open just a crack. He burst through the door, causing you to jump and shut the book you were reading. You gave your captor an indignant glare.

“Ever heard of knocking?” You snarled from your sitting position on the bed, flipping through the book to find the page you were on.

Denki chuckled, coming around to his side of the bed and sitting down. “Why would I need to knock to get to my own bedroom?” He simpered, slipping his visor off and tossing them onto the nightstand. “You weren’t doing anything naughty in here, were you?”

You tugged on the collar that was strapped around your neck, a nervous tic you had developed when Denki had forced you to wear it. He had “gifted” it to you the first week you were here, explaining that if you misbehaved or tried to run away, it would shock you. How fitting for a hero with an electricity quirk.

“No, you just startled me, that’s all,” You muttered, shoving your face back into your book. 

Denki hummed as he finished changing out of his hero costume into his regular clothes. “I’m only teasing, buttercup. I know you’ve been extra good lately. So good that I think you deserve a reward.”

Your eyes flicked to him, a skeptical but still curious look on your face. Denki often had a wildly different definition for what was considered a reward or a gift. You put your book down, prompting him to continue.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve had some fresh air, soooo…why don’t we go out onto the balcony?”

You perked up at that idea, eyes widening in surprise. Normally, it would be a silly thing to get excited about, but it’s been so long since you’ve been outside. Felt the wind on your skin. Breathed in the (not-so-fresh) city air. You were never allowed on the balcony, Denki’s orders. You guessed it was because there was the possibility of someone seeing and recognizing you. Or the fact that you might shout for help the minute you step out onto the platform.

“Really? You’ll let me go out there?” You asked, hopeful and pleading.

“Yeah, babe! You’ve earned it,” The blond grinned, coming to stand in front of you to pat your head. “But you have to promise me that you won’t try anything funny, okay?”

“Yeah, promise,” You rushed out, jumping up from the bed and heading to the balcony’s sliding glass door. Denki followed after you, loving the way you waited patiently for him to unlock it. How cute, you look just like a puppy. He’s glad you’re as enthusiastic about this as he is.

Soon, you were gazing up at the night sky, your smile shining just as brightly as the full moon above you. You wished the city's lights would turn off so you could see the millions of stars covering the sky, but you would have to settle for the few that were there. It was still a beautiful sight, however, one that you would never take for granted again.

Your hands took hold of the railing, and you leaned over it to look at the streets that were still busy with cars and pedestrians heading home or enjoying a night on the town. You used to be one of those people.

You sighed.

“It’s a nice view, right?” You had almost forgotten that Denki was out there too; he had been so quiet up until now. You only nodded in response, trying to save the peaceful silence that had been kept between the two of you.

“When I get big as a hero, I’m gonna buy the nicest penthouse I can find,” He didn’t seem to get the hint, though. “And then we’ll have the biggest balcony with the best view in the whole city. How do you like the sound of that?” He was right beside you now, elbows nearly touching yours on the railing. You scooted an inch or two away.

I’d like it better if you weren’t in the picture.

At least that’s what you wanted to say, but didn’t because you wanted to stay out there as long as possible. You opted to just shrug your shoulders, an indifferent answer that wouldn’t lead him on.

“We could spend hours out there then. No one would be able to see us cuz we’d be so high up,” Denki was leaning in even more now, his face dangerously close to yours. His eyes were half-lidded, giving you a sultry look. “It would just be the two of us.”

You didn’t like how his gaze jumped down to your lips for a brief second. Alarm bells were going off inside your head, and you were starting to regret accepting his reward. Your body tensed when he moved his hand over yours.

“We should probably head back inside, it’s getting a little chilly out-“

Swift as lightning, Denki pinned your hands to the railing, pressing his chest against yours so your back was squished against the metal barrier. Before you knew it, you were met with an innocent and coy smile inches away from your face.

“We can’t leave yet…we just got out here,” His breath tickled your nose, causing it to scrunch up. “You’re always trying to leave whenever I get close to you… It really hurts me, buttercup…”

“Denki, l-let me go,” You wanted to sound intimidating and stern, but your words came out shaky and pathetic. You tried to remove your hands from his, but they wouldn’t budge. You had underestimated how strong your captor really was.

“Shhh… It’s okay, baby,” Denki moved in towards your lips, his eyes closing as he puckered his mouth.

You leaned backwards, as far as you could go, turning your head to the side to avoid his kiss. You gasped as you got a nice view of the drop below, but the vertigo was short-lived when you felt Denki grab your face, smushing your cheeks together to pucker your own lips. He brought you close to him again, making direct eye contact with you.

“Stop struggling. I’m trying to make this special for you,” He huffed, though his glare didn’t last long as he returned to the task at hand. “They say you never forget your first kiss, so I want to make sure this will be burned into your mind.”

Denki smashed his lips against yours in a crushing kiss. Just like everything he did, it was too much. It was obvious he was inexperienced, and you figured that this was his first time too. His lips felt rough as they moved against yours in an overly eager way, and you whimpered at how he tried to delve his tongue into your mouth. He only smirked at your resistance, however, taking it as a challenge. The blond bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to yelp and giving him the access he needed. His wet and warm tongue wriggled all around inside your mouth, exploring every crevice and committing it to memory.

You thanked whatever higher being that was listening to your silent pleas when Denki released you to gasp for air. A trail of spit connected the two of you, and you desperately wanted to wipe it off, but your captor beat you to it. He licked his lips right afterward, shooting a playful grin your way.

“Was that romantic enough for you? Because we can always try again.”

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome <3

[the---hermit]

A lovely festive card from a friend and random notes.

19|12|2023

I am back after being very ill again. This time I got the flu, and to make things worse my panic disorder kicked me once again and it was bad. I am starting to feel a bit better now, but I am still very weak and my stomach isn't at its best yet. I spent a couple of hellish days, and decided to skip class this week. I confident I will be fully recovered for Friday when I'll have to speak in the seminar, but until that day I am not leaving my house and I am taking things slowly. This of course means that my nice study plan is totally fucked. I am so beyond schedul and I am not in shape to get caught with it, so I will simply have to sit down and make a whole other plan. I am starting to slowly getting back into doing some work during the day, but I have not enough mental energy to power through the book I have to study. So this week I will try to stay productive as much as I can but minding what my body allows me to do. I will study less hours during the day, do lighter stuff, and stop whenever I feel like I need to lie down, or move around depending on what my body is asking me. This morning for example I got about an hourish of work done, I was very happy with myself but then I simply had to accept that I needed to lie down, and I did so. I am fighting with the guilt of not sticking to plans and feeling overwhelmed with everything I have to do, and I am trying my best. The other thing I am struggling with at the moment is food, not in a concerning way, but more in the sense that right now I feel like I lost the joy of eating and having a good meal and that is impacting my mood so bad. First a couple of weeks ago I went to the dentist and struggled so much with pain in my mouth for a while, and now due to my stomach being affected by the flu, eating has just become something I have to do and I despise feeling like this. I want to sit at my table and be happy about what I am going to eat, I want to look forward to my meals and I have yet to figure out how to get back there. Maybe I just have a bit of a scare since in the past two or three years I often had my anxiety and panic symptoms strongly linked to my stomach and I am now scared that I'll get back into that stupid place in which eating was anxiety inducing for me. I just hope that will get better soon and that I will be able to enjoy the amazing food my family will make during the holidays.

calm hobbit winter activities and productivity:

read first thing in the morning (I managed to read ten pages which is such a big win after these awful days)

wrote notes for the second chapeter of Nature, Human Nature and Human Difference by Justin Smith

updated my reading journal

started watching cabinet of curiosities (in the past few years I have been terrible at watching new series, but this morning when I had to lie down after studying I felt like watching something new could be a good way to keep my brain a bit active. I watched the first two episodes and loved the first one. The second one fell very flat for me but I am exctied to see more of it, it definitely has the gothic horror vibes I adore)

started reviewing my men theories and power practices notes and added a few additional informations here and there

practiced my presentation for Friday

📖: Bookshops and Bonedust by Travis Baldree

[rourkie]

Honestly? Forget about health insurance. I can't even get my doctor to believe me when I'm hurt or sick. And then they just go up with a narrative that they have decided before they even examine me without even listening to what I have to say.

I'm almost certain that I have anemia, something that didn't come up until I started transitioning. 🏳️‍⚧️ I don't know if it was brought on because of the change in hormones, (which my armchair research says is a possibility,) but it's something that I found out one day when I tried to give plasma like I always do only to find that my red blood cell levels were too low. Lately I've been feeling more and more exhausted, so there's actually kind of tracked with the general malaise feeling of "something is wrong but I don't know what."

(Rant under the cut)

In the past I have never had high blood pressure. Even when I was roughly 30 or 40 lb heavier than I am now, my blood pressure has been remarkably stable. Lately it's been trending slightly high, and while some of it can be accounted to age and stress, it's a definite and distinct change. My diet and exercise habits had roughly stayed the same. (Anemia can cause increased blood pressure.)

In the last 2 years I've definitely started having some circulation problems, especially in my feet, which sometimes feel like I'm stepping on rocks even though I'm not. I've never had this problem before. (Anemia can cause phantom foot pain and circulatory issues.)

I started taking iron pills in addition to the regular multivitamin I was taking (from the recommendation of the plasma donation nurse) and my mood increased drastically. I felt I had more energy, didn't feel as exhausted all the time. And while I don't think I was suffering from an iron deficiency, I definitely think that the extra iron helps to produce more red blood cells.

I went in for a physical with a new doctor a few months ago. I told him everything above (including being off iron for a few months so they could get an accurate blood test). He was concerned with my blood pressure being slightly high and attributed it to my weight.

I told him flat out that I didn't believe that my weight was the cause. That I had much more normal blood pressure when I was heavier than I am now. He didn't believe me when I told him that I wasn't anywhere near my heaviest, and seemed shocked to believe that I had been able to lose that much weight, and asked me what had stopped or changed from me continuing to do so.

He wanted to put me on Ozempic (as if it's the answer to everything) for the rest of my life, and I flat out told him I didn't want any appetite reducing drugs. I told him that my problem is that I generally sometimes don't remember to eat, and that I'm likely to eat too little during a day than too much, as I'm not really a snacker for the most part. He didn't believe me, but agreed to go in a different direction.

But then offered me a second solution that would "boost my metabolism and help me lose weight" that way, and that if I didn't like it, it's something that could be stopped, unlike Ozempic. I stared straight at him and asked if it was an appetite suppressant, and he told me no. So I agreed. I also got him to agree to run a blood panel with my labs despite the fact that he didn't think anything was wrong.

In the week that I was waiting for my labs, I started my new medication. By day 2 I just didn't ever feel hungry anymore. By day 5, I felt sick drinking even just seltzer or water. Water made me nauseous. By the end of the week I had to just stop because I felt so awful. I looked up what the drugs actually did, probably something I should have done earlier, but found out that when taken together, one drug acted like an appetite suppressant and the other was designed to make me feel fuller when I ate. My doctor flat out lied to me to my face about what prescriptions he had given me.

Around this time I got my labs back. Low hematocrit (red blood cell count), though regular iron levels. About what I expected. But of course, despite the fact that the lab said that there would be a follow-up from my physician to discuss my labs, no follow-up happened from my doctor. Apparently it wasn't important enough for him to go over my labs with me. I had another appointment with him in 2 months, which I canceled because I knew that I wouldn't be able to control myself with the amount of rage that I felt towards this man. Especially since my "routine labs" ended up costing me about $500 out of my own pocket, because they refused to recode the lab work they did to have it covered under my physical

So here I am without a doctor. I'm back on iron pills because they make me feel better, but I know it's not a permanent solution. But I really don't know what to do from here.

And before any of you tell me to go find another doctor, let me explain to you that this happens to me anywhere I go. Last year I had a doctor who I went to because I was sick and it wasn't COVID. The doctor performed a few sample tests on me and told me that she would let me know in 48 hours. Covid came back negative. Flu came back negative. The sample that I was waiting on, the strep test, kept showing as no data. This was a test that I asked her to do because I know what my body feels like when I'm sick and I was pretty sure this was what it was. I was sick for another 3 days before I went to a walk-in clinic who confirmed that I did in fact have strep. When I called my doctor to see what was going on, the receptionist found out that my doctor had thrown away my strep sample because she was convinced that it was COVID and that the COVID sample would come back positive.

I can't tell you how many times something that was diagnosed as "just a cold" ended up being upper respiratory infections and sinus infections.

I am the leading expert on my own body. Yes, I'm overweight. Yes I'm working on that. Despite what people see when they look at me, I am a relatively healthy human being who keeps in regular shape despite the fact that I am heavyset.

Yes, health insurance companies suck. But so does our current healthcare system. There's a reason why I don't go to the doctor anymore unless I absolutely have to, and even then? Usually they charge an arm and a leg to misdiagnose. I'm not the only one, too. There are many of my peers who struggle with the same thing. What is going on? And how can we change this?

[mercwiththem0uth]

Evenings with Ross Gaines - drabble

feeling bored and just wanted to write something short. feel free to leave requests xo

[pairing - ross gaines x reader]

---

I had been dating Ross for a few months now, having met in the small town of Royston Vasey. He loved his job and would usually work long hours, but he had been significantly busier the past couple of weeks, working on a case of an insufferable woman whom I learned was called 'Pauline'. Too often he would arrive home in the late evening, his dinner going cold, with me sat half-asleep waiting for him on the couch. The most worrying part would be when he'd show up with bruises and dried blood all over him, having faced beatings and attacks from the dreaded 40-something-year-old. I couldn't count the times I'd sat with him on the bathroom floor, wiping and wrapping his wounds, and comforting him as he would rant and tell me about his awful day.

So as I stood in the kitchen beginning to prepare our evening meal, my heart almost dropped as I heard the front door open and his voice call out "hey, I'm home."

I turned and faced him as he walked in, a confused smile on my face. "You're early?" He hummed in agreement against my lips as he pressed a quick peck to them. "Yeah, well..." He sighed as he grabbed two wine glasses and opened the fridge to retrieve some alcohol. "I hate these late nights. I missed you." He handed me a glass with a small smile before we both took a sip. "I've been missing you, too. Your book has barely been touched." I laughed gently, gesturing towards the two books on the coffee table.

Most evenings before Ross met Pauline, we would come home from work and cuddle up together on the couch to read our books in a comfortable silence. It was one of our favourite activities. But recently I'd been left to read alone, and my book was almost finished, where Ross had only managed to turn a few pages. I watched as he glanced at the books and smiled sadly. "What's wrong?" I asked, worried he'd sustained more injuries. "Are you hurt?"

"No" he chuckled, putting his glass down and walking towards me, extending his arms. I let him wrap me up in his warm embrace, breathing in his scent as I hugged him back. "I just missed you" he mumbled into my hair, slightly rocking me from side to side. I laughed against him, "Yeah, you already said that."

He pulled back and pressed another kiss to my lips, "I'm gonna have a quick shower... wanna join me?" He smirked. I rolled my eyes and denied the offer, much to his dismay.

When he was showering, I finished making dinner and laid the table, before changing into my pyjamas. He walked out in his robe, his hair all flat and stuck to his forehead. It was my favourite look on him, and he knew it. Over dinner we spoke about our days and made plans for the weekend, and just had a much-needed catch up. After clearing up, we moved to the couch and put on a DVD, wrapping ourselves up under a blanket. My head laid on his chest as his fingers played with the ends of my hair, making it almost impossible to keep my eyes open.

He noticed my sleepiness. He notices everything. "You wanna go to bed?" He whispered down at me half-way through the movie, but I shook my head, not wanting to waste any of the short time that we had together. I grabbed his hand and fiddled with his fingers, tracing over every line, mark, and scar, before raising his finger tips to my lips to lightly kiss each of them. I felt his eyes watching me intently.

"I don't want you to go to work tomorrow" I whispered, sadness lacing my voice.

"Well it's a good job that I already booked the day off, then" I turned to look at him, only to find him grinning down at me.

"Are you serious?"

He just nodded, still smiling. "I couldn't go off to work knowing you were at home alone on your day off. I need a break." He sighed contently, pulling me closer to him.

"Well, what will we do?" I asked, leaning my face close to his.

"I can think of something" he barely whispered, allowing his lips to collide against mine.

[cowgremlin11]

For vikdecai ideas/prompts:

Mordecai 'visits' while Viktor is still healing from a wound, maybe it's vague on whether he actually did it or not as it's from Viktors perspective who might not have a clear head at the moment

Mordecai meets Viktor after the kneecapping incident, things are very very awkward and tense and neither of them are happg about it but for whatever reason they can't fight right now (maybe both are in a position where they can't currently give their location away by yelling at each other)

anon your BRAIN.

anyways i did the first one since i could have fun fucking w viktors head :) its pretty loose cus Someone Is Having A Sick

ficlet under the cut hehe

Viktor’s stuck at home after taking a bullet to the chest. He’s lucky to be alive is what he was told. Viktor stubbornly believes that he can do his job fine, but the horse doctor Mitzi called to the scene had given him strict orders to stay home and let himself recover. He isn’t happy about the situation, but he’ll rest if it means everyone gets off his case about it.

It’s honestly awful being all alone like this. Yes, he hates the way noise incessantly chatters on, but dead silence is far more grating right now. The emptiness of it all makes him feel like he’s going to lose his mind. It leads to his thoughts running wild as Viktor desperately tries to catch them before he falls into a depressive spiral.

As of late he’s been failing at the task of wrangling his own mind. He ends up thinking of all he’s lost. He thinks of the things that were taken from him. The honourable man he once was. The family he tore from his own hands. The happiness he once felt. Everything had been ripped to pieces over the years by himself and the people he once knew.

Mordecai was the one who took the most from him that day he left a bullet in Viktor’s knee. Mordecai’s the reason he’s stuck standing behind that damned counter. Mordecai’s the reason he’s been in this downward spiral for the past few months.

It’s not like he enjoys thinking about what Mordecai did to him, but sometimes his mind has other plans. Every time his mind lands on his old partner he starts out angry, but then his thoughts begin to trickle down into the fuzzy memories of their time together.

He likes remembering how it felt to hold the smaller one close to his chest. The intimacy of when they would press their foreheads together. The smell of a warm breakfast in the morning. The sound of rain drumming against the window.

He misses his old partner every day. He can’t help it. They had a real connection that he’s never had or will ever have again. They’re completely different ends of a spectrum the way left is to right, north to south, yin to yang; both opposite but reliant on the other. That's how they worked so well in the past, after all.

He’d give anything to see Mordecai right now. He’d rather spend the awful weeks of recovery ahead with Mordecai at his side. He just wants to hear that familiar-

Ra-ta-ta.

Viktor shakes his head. He must’ve just been hallucinating that knock. But again— Ra-ta-ta. More urgently— Ra-ta-ta.

“Viktor, it’s me. Open the door.”

The voice is all too familiar to him. Smooth with no discernible accent, but so distinctly the voice of the black and white triggerman who’s running from his past. Viktor’s heart tightens with a myriad of emotions.

Viktor tries to sit up, but Mordecai’s already walked into the flat. Had the door been unlocked? Viktor rubs his remaining eye and struggles to recall what he has and hasn't done. He looks up and focuses on the image of Mordecai Heller. He looks the same as he did all those months ago: beautiful.

Mordecai stands a few feet away and gives him a once over. “I heard about your injury,” he says.

Viktor just keeps staring in awe. He doesn’t know what to say at the moment. He’s just stuck sitting in his chair with a dumb look on his face. It’s more so the fact that Mordecai’s here at all that has him so stunned. He’s dressed in what Mordecai considers casual: a nice button up, a crisp tie, silk pants, and his business shoes. Can’t forget his classic pince-nez pinching his muzzle to stay in place.

He should punch those glasses right off his face, but he can’t bring himself to it.

“Vhat are you doing here?” Viktor asks with a rasp to his voice.

Mordecai doesn’t answer him. Instead, he feels Viktor’s cheek and forehead to check his temperature.

“Have you been taking care of yourself? Ugh, you haven’t changed one bit,” he says with an annoyed tone. “Stay there, I’m sure you haven’t been eating as well as you should be. I’ll make you something.”

Viktor’s ears flick back grumpily as he watches Mordecai go to the kitchen. He can sit and sulk all he wants, but he has to admit to himself that he’s missed the fussing. He’s missed their time together. He’s missed Mordecai.

But Mordecai doesn’t come back with anything. He doesn’t come back at all; the flat is quiet once more. Viktor is alone with the painful memory of a love he once had, and the strain of a bleeding lung.

[theoddcatlady]

I Moved Into The Cat Lady’s House

I bought my very first house last month.  

I had to sit in my car for a few minutes, I was just in awe for a few minutes that this house was really mine. It was one of those things that I wanted since I was kid, as stupid as it is- my very own house. And I got it for a steal, the previous owner had just gone into hospice and her son just needed to get rid of it.  

Dylan was waiting for me when I got there, he was a really sweet guy who was just going through one of the roughest times a person can. He welcomed me in, offered to help me sort through the furniture to see what I was going to pitch and which I was going to keep- he wasn’t the sentimental type when it came to flower printed couches, apparently.

I had just laughed and was about to tell him yes when something large ran past my leg and raked its claws down my leg. I screeched, hopping up on a chair and pulling up my pant leg to assess the damage. That was one deep cut, and I looked over at that flower printed couch to see the furry culprit-

a gargantuan calico cat, with the most angry amber eyes and the meanest face I’d ever seen on a cat.  

“Goliath! That’s where you are!” Dylan attempted to reach for the cat, who just hissed at him and bolted down the hallway and I heard him zip up the stairs.  

“Goliath?” I questioned as I sat down on the chair I’d so carelessly leaped on.  

Dylan held up a finger before he went to the bathroom and brought me a wet rag to care for my ankle. Then he told me about Goliath.  

His mom had apparently always loved cats, but the accident that killed her husband also killed her three cats. Dylan, all sorts of messed up from the grief of losing his father, ended up pulling away from his mom and moved across country to go to college. By the time he sorted himself and returned home several years down the line, his mother had taken in the feral tom.  

“He’s always suspicious of strangers, but he’ll warm up to you soon enough. When you can get him calmed down, call me, I’ll take him to the shelter. I’d rather not have Goliath chew up animal control. Besides, he’s a good cat. He saved my mom, I think if he hadn’t shown up, my mom would’ve died from loneliness.”

I don’t know how anyone could be friends with that jackass tom. That night when I was about to go to bed, I found him again. Sitting on my bed. Staring at me with a murder glare.  

I sat down on the bed, the hair on my neck standing straight up as Goliath growled at me. “Stop that,” I shook my finger at the angry cat, “I thought male cats couldn’t be calico. Well, they can be, but apparently the few that are are typically infertile or have a bunch of other issues.”  

Almost as if he understood what I said, the hair on his neck went flat and he stopped growling, like I took the wind out of his sails. That made me snort, but I held firm. “Now, Dylan’s going to pick you up the moment he can, whether you like it or not. I don’t want a cat. Not now. Capiche?”  

Goliath responded by flicking his tail before grooming one of his front paws. I sighed and pulled myself under the covers, feeling a bit silly for talking to a cat. “Goodnight, Goliath,” I said.  

That first week was a nightmare. Other than that initial conversation before bedtime, Goliath spent all his time hiding under thing and waiting for the right moment to come out and bat his paws at me. My ankles and calves were covered in scratches. I complained about his guerrilla warfare to Dylan, and I think he was trying really hard not to laugh even as he offered his sympathies.  

It was irritating and I couldn’t wait for Goliath to take a damn chill pill so Dylan could send him to the shelter.

It was exactly one week after I moved in that I woke up to hear Goliath yowling.  

At first I thought he was just being pissy and this was his new attack on me. But as it carried on… I felt like he sounded sad. Just really sad. I ended up getting up and checking to see what was wrong. Goliath was sitting on the window sill in the living room, for a cat of his mass he was surprisingly agile. He continued to cry and my heart melted. Here I was, being all ticked at this cat, when no doubt he just missed his previous owner.  

I don’t know what possessed me to pick up Goliath and carry him to the couch for some much needed cuddle time, but he didn’t try to hurt me. I stroked his ears and softly told him he was okay, that all was going to be okay. Goliath just repeatedly headbutted me in the chest as his cries quieted, we both ended up falling asleep on the couch. My neck and back were killing me by morning, but Goliath was still asleep as I grabbed my phone off the sidetable where I’d left it charging the night before and I called Dylan.  

“Hey, Goliath’s stopped being so angry, I think now would be the time to take care of him,” I said, quietly as not to wake him up.

Dylan was quiet for a few seconds before I heard him take a deep, shuddering breath. “Yeah, um… I can’t. Not now… my mom went last night. Just passed away in her sleep. I’m sorry,” He said.

I looked down at the sleeping cat in my lap. “Oh, it’s fine. He can stay here then for a bit more. I’m so sorry.”  

He just ‘mmhmm’d’ before he hung up. I looked down at the slumbering Goliath and decided I was heading to the pet store after I showered. Whether I liked it or not, I now had a damn cat.  

I wondered if Goliath knew if he’d lost his owner, that he was mourning her last night.

Now I know he did.

There was another reason I got this house for as cheap as I did- about two years ago, there was a bunch of unsolved disappearances and murders in the area. Heck, the next door neighbors lost their three oldest kids to some sort of wild animal attack before they just vanished themselves. Creepy, but I’m not the kind of person who gives a shit about that sort of thing. So someone may have died on this street, big whoop, people die all the time.  

But Goliath was different. I think I always knew he was different. 

I talked with him all the time and he always seemed to be listening. I usually talked to him about how work was going, or what I was going to make for dinner or what was going on in the book I was reading. Sometimes we talked about more serious things, about my depression and how hard it made it to get up in the morning sometimes, about how I always wondered if moving out to this small town was really the right choice, how I really wanted to be a writer instead of an accountant but I lived comfortably because of accounting and I wouldn’t as a writer. Goliath was a great listener. Never said anything back, but he was a cat after all.

Last Saturday night though, someone broke into my house. I had fallen asleep on the couch watching Netflix, Goliath had just gone out the back cat door to do his night prowls, I was alone.  

I woke up when I heard someone going through something in the kitchen. My half asleep brain first thought it was Goliath just trying to get into the cat food, so I stumbled my way over there to tell his dumb ass to knock it off. Instead of an oversized house cat though, I saw a figure with a black ski mask holding one of my kitchen knives.

I tried to bolt back to the living room to get my phone but didn’t get too far when I felt something cold slice through my back and impale me through the shoulder. It’s not like I had a reference for what being stabbed felt like, I didn’t even realize I had been until I fell to my knees, barely able to even breathe much less scream.  

My attacked pulled the knife back out and I looked up, saw the glint of the blood covered blade preparing to make another strike. I couldn’t move. My dumb ass didn’t fight or run, I just laid there like a complete waste of space while the knife came down again… or it would’ve, if Goliath hadn’t pounced his arm and sunk his teeth right into his skin.

The guy shouted and shook the infuriated cat off, Goliath smacking into the kitchen cabinet before sinking to the ground. I scrambled as fast as I could to the hallway, blood dripping down my arm as I scrambled to get away.

The sound that came from Goliath as he got back to his feet- house cats don’t make that sound. Tigers, maybe.  

Goliath growled again, I felt the temperature of the room raise as cats just starting pouring into my house. Through the open window my attacker had probably come through, through the cat door, hell some even pawed their way up from the basement one way or another. They ignored me as they surrounded Goliath and the intruder.  

“What the fuck-”  

Goliath roared, his tail whipping back and forth as he paced around his prey. The guy gulped before looking down at me. “Call him off! Call your fucking demon cat off!”  

I coughed and shook my head. “He’s not mine,” I said before I began pulling my body down the hallway. I made it to my bedroom and heard my attacker screech in horror before I lost consciousness. I don’t know how long I was out, but I woke up to Goliath licking the wound on my back.  

I only saw what Goliath really was for a second. I’d seen tigers at the zoo smaller than he was, his black fur thick as a wolf’s and the orange patches now glowing like magma. Those fiery eyes flicked up at mine, I blinked, and he was back to being a normal- if not slightly oversized- housecat.  

I don’t know what he did to my back, but the stab wound’s gone. Just a scar now. I’d want to believe it was a dream, but although my kitchen was mostly clean, there was a few swaths of blood left under the table. And I now have like four other cats living in my house. One of them had the nerve to have its babies under my sink so I have to find homes for the fuzzy freeloaders.  

While I lounged in the living room, I saw one of them hack up what I think was a finger. It scarfed it back up before I got a good look. I turned and looked at Goliath, who was perched on the couch arm. “Just what the hell are you? Did that old lady who lived here before even know?”  

Goliath just looked at me, and I swore he winked before yawning and dragging his claws down my couch arm.  

At least I don’t have a body to clean up. And I’ll never need a guard dog with this asshole cat in my home.

[firespirited]

I've been sick with some sort of fluey thing that sets off migraines all week. Did manage to meet the therapist: she's fantastic, no nonsense, up to date science, specializes in autism in women and trauma from interpersonal abuse. Unfortunately I'm going to need that therapist more than ever.

Mum had no intention of doing group therapy, has no interest in fixing our relationship, she's got this idea that it would somehow be taking sides even though she regularly has long whispered conversations with me about how to deal with a situation with sis. I also really upset her by describing dad as having cluster B personality disorders that made him cruel, she read the first sentence of my psych homework and decided she was out.

Because in her mind cruelty requires intent and dad was just being pre-emptively nasty because he'd had a paranoia where he felt we'd been mean. She's retconned him as bpd??? He didn't get paranoias until I was nearly 20. He wasn't borderline, he was a bully. It was calculated and calm not often spontaneous. He had just as many calm collected bouts of psychological violence as he did rages. And oh odd thing right? he never damaged a relationship with a man or employer even if he resented them privately. He never ever once implied he was suicidal to anyone else when that was his go to move. He had depressions and manias, he was rapid cycling. He also managed to keep the damage to his immediate family (except for that school incident) and constantly quitting jobs. There are times when the cluster B was the real issue and other times when he was just selfish and enjoyed his power over others. I know that's an awful thing to say but I've known a lot of cluster B folks who are trying to not break everything and I knew dad well: he blurred the lines between deliberate long term choices and his pathology. His hostility towards my and mum's existence as ill people was obvious to my doctor and every carer we had. My sister's cptsd is mostly from the damage he did with gossip and how she made herself compliant at home.

I can't say this to mum she's in rose tinted glasses mode about dad. The psych definitely noticed when she said some really weird hurtful stuff to me. I did get very serious that she was not to talk about dad around sis. To not even think about it because it could reset her entire recovery.

I have spent the past 25 days neck deep in bpd type cptsd symptoms, learning every trigger point and rebuilding a relationship with sis where she has no idea that I'm just not sharing secrets and fears. I'm still her rock. She's just not my anchor anymore. We're actually doing pretty well now. I can trace the intense anxieties back to last may when she brought a stray dog home and began obsessing about adopting a cat (she's allergic). I can perform the correct emotions on cue instead of relying on just words. Every time she loses trust I reassure and rebuild. She's been able to open up about what she couldn't stand about 'us' (it's not us, she needs a fully quiet space not just a bedroom in a busy flat) etc.

It's sad because every worst fear I outlined in the psych homework came true over the past few days. I have to hope it's some kind of stress phase. Maybe she's got the same flu thing as me and it's making her feel vulnerable and cranky.

There are very good odds she was super spooked at the idea of therapy, goodness knows she doesn't like talking about feelings. The idea that she might one day have to explain her wild family to someone else terrifies her.

Now that I know she's not ok, I need to keep my distance for a while and build myself up so I can handle sis' next crisis alone.

[alexanderossis]

From the “say you won’t let go” - some touch starved scenarios prompt list could I please have two prompts together?

"can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

and

breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much.

for Lando/George?

Would love some touch starved George thrown in there pretty please!!

Thank you 🥹

At the beginning of the season, Lando would have thought he'd be the one in need of comfort.

But after two good races on the McLaren side and a couple of less good ones for George, Lando finds himself knocking at the other Brit's door after one too many unanswered calls.

They're on summer break now, both back in Monaco, and Lando had been expecting a couple of weeks of bliss with George. But after two days of one-word text responses and dropped calls, he's found himself more than worried about the state of his boyfriend.

Lando knocks on George's door, and he hears shuffling in the background.

"Georgie," Lando calls through the door. "It's me, baby."

A few moments later, George answers the door, hair messy and clothes wrinkled. He looks like he just got out of bed, which he may have, despite it being nearly noon.

George gives Lando a small smile, slightly forced, "Hey."

"Hey?" Lando pushes past George, heading into the man's apartment before he can shut the door.

"Is that not how people say hello?" George retorts, but it falls flat.

Lando spins, crossing his arms and giving George a look that clearly says, what the fuck is going on with you?

George sighs, running a hand through his hair. Without the gel, the strands have gone curly, and Lando wants to touch it, pull George close and just never let go.

So he does.

He drops his arms, reaching for George's hands and pulls his boyfriend into a hug.

George is tense at first, almost fighting the grip that Lando has on him. But Lando strokes his back softly, bringing a hand up to play with the strands of hair on George's neck, and the small ministrations are enough to have George relaxing into the embrace.

Lando presses a kiss to George's temple as the man tucks his head into the curve of Lando's neck.

They stand there like that, Lando trying to keep his breathing even and keep himself quiet, despite his urge to ask George what's going on.

Instead, he waits and then feels George's tears against his skin.

"Honey," Lando soothes, "What's going on?"

George stays quiet, arms wrapping tighter around Lando to hold him in place.

It takes everything in Lando to not ask George again, but he knows that George will tell him when he's ready, and not a second before. They've been friends for too long for him to not know how this all works.

And he's right because after a few more minutes, George untangles himself from Lando, bringing them face to face again. Well, sorta. Lando is always looking up at George. That's how it's always been.

"This season has just not been-" George cuts himself off, shakes his head. "It's not been good."

Lando doesn't really think that's true. It's more that Lewis is feeling okay with the car and he's giving George a better run for his money this season. That doesn't mean George is any worse.

But now is not the time to argue, so he nods and lets George continue.

"And you've been having a great season, which is amazing," George gives him a bit of a smile, because he's never been anything but supportive of Lando, "and I didn't want to bring you down."

"Bring me down?" Lando forgets he's just supposed to be listening. "When have you ever brought me down?"

George makes a frustrated noise in his throat, "Lando-"

"No." Lando huffs, "I will not let you ruin our summer break because you have decided that I am upset with you or don't want to hang out."

George bites his lip.

"If you asked me how I felt instead of assuming," he's being a bit of a brat but it's George, he'll understand, "you would know that all I want to do is spend time with my beautiful boyfriend, in this beautiful city. And that I don't care whether he's won every race this season or none of them."

George ducks his head, blushing slightly.

"Because, if I did care," Lando nudges George's foot with his own, "I'd have to be dating Max or god forbid, Checo."

They both wrinkle their faces in disgust at the same time and finally, George cracks, breaking into a fit of giggles.

"You're a brat," George smiles.

"You love it." Lando sticks his tongue out. "Now, go get dressed, we're going for brunch."

George hesitates, "Can I have one more hug?"

"Aw babe, you don't have to ask, c'mere."

Hope this is what you wanted, anon! Not feeling my George/Lando skills tonight so not sure if this is good or not lol.

[fantasywriter19]

1. Melody Riddle and the Sorcerer's Stone Ch.4 Birthday Surprise at Midnight

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

I blearily opened my eyes, wondering just what I was being woken up for. I had been at the school for a few weeks and, finally, got rid of my jet lag. Of course, it didn’t change the fact that I’ve always hated waking up early. From how bleary my eyes were, it had to still be early in the morning.

“Who is it?” I called, snuggling deeper into my wool blankets.

“Professor Higginbottom,” a voice, forcefully high-pitched, responded.

I softly groaned to myself as I sat up, pushing my feet into the soft slippers with a yawn. Mom said to respect the teachers, so I better come to the door. “I’m coming, hold on a sec.” I shuffled over to the door and opened it.

An explosion of color and sparkling woke me up the rest of the way, causing me to jump back and rub my eyes so I could see clearly what just happened. As I opened them again, there were the twins with party hats on their heads and their wands held up still spouting sparks and confetti.

“Happy birthday!!” they cheered.

I blinked at them in disbelief. Not only had I not even told them about my birthday being May thirty first, but I was also irritated that I had shown any type of surprise. I hadn’t shown private emotions to anyone but my parents since preschool. In response, I kept my voice flat as I asked, “How did you know? I never told you..”

“Dumbledore told us,” they said giddily.

“Now get some adventuring clothes on. You’re going to explore the castle with us!” George said.

I’d finally figured out how to tell which twin was who. Despite being perfectly similar twins, I could sense who was who by their energy. Fred was more in charge while George generally followed along — not that it was all that easy, because their personalities almost exactly matched each other.

Fred added, “And hurry up before Snape comes. You have no idea how many times he patrols past your door.”

I narrowed my eyes, “What time even is it?”

“Midnight,” they replied eagerly.

“I’m going back to sleep,” I attempted to close the door in their faces, but Fred stuck his foot in.

“You’re turning down a personal tour of the school where no students, classes or teachers can get in the way?” George asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve already shown me enough of the school. Which, might I say again, the library is still my favorite.”

“Not the secret passages,” Fred said, waggling his eyebrows.

“What, you mean there are secret secret passages?” I asked dubiously.

“Of course! It’s a castle!” George said.

I sighed. Sleep.. or explore possibly thousand year old secret passages…. Historical secret passages obviously win my vote. “I’ll just be a minute.”

⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛   ⚯͛

After making sure we left a line of pillows in my bed — that the twins so generously brought to make it seem like I was still asleep — they took me as far away from the dungeons as possible before Professor Snape could return.

Fred then pulled out a worn old sheet of blank parchment paper and his wand. “Can you guess what this is?”

“A treasure map in invisible ink?” I guessed half-heartedly.

The twins chuckled, “Close enough.”

He gently touched the tip of his wand to the paper and recited, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Lines appeared and spread out along the page in different directions, forming a map of the whole school. At the top of the page came the words ‘Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER’S MAP.’ As I stared at the map, I could see very clearly where we were standing by the three dots next to each other labeled with our names; ‘George Weasley,’ ‘Fred Weasley,’ and ‘Melody Riddle.’

At the same time that I was in awe of all the possibilities there could be for magic, I also felt a pang of disappointment. I had to realize that ‘Melody Gray’ really must be officially gone if my last name was automatically ‘Riddle’ on this map. Or maybe my name had never even been ‘Gray.’ I put the thought away as quickly as it had come.

“How do you have this map?” I asked. “Wouldn’t this be something the headmaster would have?”

“That’s the beauty of it —” Fred said.

“— this must be the only map in existence.” George said.

“Last year, we let off a Dungbomb in the corridor —”

“ — and it upset Filch for some reason —”

“ — and after he hauled us off to his office and gave the usual threats —”

“ — we just couldn’t help but notice a drawer in one of his filing cabinets.”

“It said: ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.’”

“Fred dropped a dungbomb —”

“ — and George grabbed the first thing he laid his hands on.”

I could only listen to the story with barely held back laughter as I had to continue moving my head back and forth between the two of them. “Do you always tell stories in parts like this?”

“‘Course,” they replied with a unified shrug.

“Should’ve seen that answer coming. Well, I can assume a Dungbomb must be some kind of stink bomb, but who’s Filch?”

“Filch is the caretaker,” Fred said.

“The caretaker?” I asked, aghast. “There is only one caretaker in this whole castle?”

This was where they looked around and began whispering. “Oh yeah, and you know the catch —?”

“— he’s a squib.”

“So…” I thought about everything mom had said before I left. “He was born to a magical family, but has no magic?”

“Bingo!” they said.

“But how’s that fair?”

They stared at me in surprise, “What?”

“He’s supposed to clean this whole castle, every nook and cranny, by himself? With no magic, whatsoever? That’s not fair!”

“Well — I mean..”

“It’s not like he’s nice! He’s evil!”

“And I can see why! I’d be mean, too, if I have to clean up after magical incidents everyday like a normal person. All alone with a whole castle to travel through.”

They merely laughed and linked their arms through mine.

“You’re funny, Melody, really —”

“— however, we have very little time for dilly-dallying. We want to at least show you one secret passage.”

“But —” I attempted to push my argument through. It just seemed to me that if I was going to have a fresh new start with friends that I was most definitely required to give my opinion.

However, Fred’s hand slapped over my mouth and I was dragged into the deepest shadows of the hallway. I wriggled and tried to yell at him, but he tightened his grip on me as he hissed, “Shhh.”

A cat meowed in the distance.

“~ Come my sweet… we’ll catch them… lead the way…. ~”

The voice chilled my bones as I thought about how it would look to mom if I’d been caught out of bed with some boys before school even starts for me. I stood still long enough that Fred’s grip slackened.

Thankfully, whoever it was hadn’t even gone right past us. The voice had sounded off from a different hallway, but we trepidly watched their silhouettes walk past the entryway. We waited a few minutes before we felt like we could breathe normally, then I followed them in silence.

We reached a statue of a one eyed witch with a hump on her back, and we went around behind her. George tapped the hump with his wand, uttering the word, “Dissendium.”

The hump snapped open to a size big enough that we would only be able to fit through one at a time. As I peeked in, it seemed to be a considerable length of tunnel pointing downwards… we were going to have to slide.

“Alright, Melody,” Fred said with a grin. “I’ll go first, then you count to ten before following. George will be right behind you.”

I shrugged as he hopped right in with a soft “Whoo…”

As I counted to ten, I shook my head. Just my luck for goofballs to enjoy hanging out with me. But, I reasoned as I eased myself into the hole, it’s not like I could find anyone goofier than they are in my own age group. I let myself slide through, feeling cool wind whipping my hair around as I went down, down, down until I landed on wet, soft earth.

Light was emanating from Fred’s wand so, in the surrounding pitch darkness, I saw his hand held out to help me up. When I took it we moved out of the way as we heard George’s “Whoo…” coming down the slide.

We were in a narrow, low ceiling passageway where, once we started moving with the twins cracking jokes along the way, it winded this way and that as we walked. It was too easy to trip, and hard to keep enough balance not to fall all the way to the floor — even with the light from both of their wands. Concerning the pain in my legs, plus the passage beginning to rise up, I knew we must have been walking for quite a while though it seemed that no time had passed at all with those two keeping me company.

A short time later, we came up to another long set of stone steps about as long as the slide had been — though it obviously took twice the time.  When we finally made it to the top, Fred had pushed open the trapdoor above us and we made our way out into a cellar room full of boxes and crates.

I took a deep breath and whispered, “I never thought I’d appreciate air aboveground as much as I do now.”

“Everybody’s a critic,” George whispered back.

Fred replaced the trapdoor, which blended in to the floor so well that it was no longer a surprise how this wouldn’t have been found out… wherever this place was. He then walked over to the wooden staircase leading up to a door, “Prepare to be amazed.”

“By more stairs?” I breathed.

They chuckled, dragging me up the stairs and through the door where I found us standing behind a counter of what looked like a candy store. It was too dark to see much. However, what I could see was not only glass jars filled with unknown objects, but also that there were items in the shape of lollipops and ice cream.

When the light came on, all I could do was stare. There were so many shelves full of so many different kinds of candy that if I’d tried to imagine an equally fantastical candy store before seeing this one, I wouldn’t be able to see it even close to this caliber.

I was more into candy than I had ever been willing to admit.

By the labels, I read everything around me: toffees, pink coconut ice, creamy nougat, all different flavors of chocolate there could ever be; there was a large barrel labeled Every Flavour Beans — most likely jelly beans — and another that said Fizzing Whizzbees, whatever those were.

On one whole wall, there were sweets labeled ‘Special Effects’ of which were such candies called: Toothflossing Stringmints, Exploding Bonbons, Black Pepper Imps, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Sugar-Spun Quills, Peppermint Toads and Ice Mice — among so many others.

“This must be a dream,” I said incredulously.

“Nope,” Fred said, pinching me hard on the arm.

“Ouch!” I hissed, punching him in the chest. “That was not an opening to pinch me!”

“I just wanted you to see that it was real!” he said, holding a hand to his chest as though wounded. “What would you like from here?”

“I’m not stealing candy,” I snapped.

“You don’t have to — we’ll put the money for it on the counter,” George said, showing me silver and bronze coins in his hand. “We haven’t got much, but you won’t be able to come down here to Honeydukes for regular visits until your third year. We’ve been sneaking here since last year because we can’t wait until we have permission to go this coming year.”

“That’s why we wanted you to see this,” Fred said, gesturing at all the candy in the room. “And you can use the passage whenever you want. Come to us if you forget the spell.”

“I don’t know if I’ll even use it, but…” I looked around the room, then to the boys beside me. “Thanks. A lot. This is one of the best gifts I could ever ask for.”

They grinned before walking me through the store listing all their best suggestions.

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[chorusfm]

Liner Notes (October 29th, 2023)

We’re back with another newsletter. This week has thoughts on a stacked release week and the usual commentary. As always, there’s a playlist of ten songs worth your time, and this week’s supporter Q&A post can be found here. If you’d like this newsletter delivered to your inbox each week (it’s free and available to everyone), you can sign up here. A Few Things * Anyone who’s followed me for any time knows my longtime love for the TV show Friends. It was my comfort show for many years, the show I had every season of on DVD and would put on in the background and watch over and over again. It’s cliche, but it was like having a group of friends to hang out with. It made me happy. I’ve seen the entire show more times than I can count. So seeing the news of Matthew Perry passing has me feeling emotional today; I’m sad. RIP. * I enjoyed this piece by Ted Gioia and felt explicitly like this part resonated with me: “This has forced me to develop a number of tools and rules for my writing. For example, I only review albums I genuinely love nowadays. Life is too short to do hit pieces—although those are often very popular with editors and readers. Also, I try to focus my most intense criticisms on organizations, institutions, policies, and attitudes, and avoid direct attacks on individuals.” But the entire thing is full of gems and worth your time. In Case You Missed It * Review: The Format – Interventions + Lullabies * Review: Blink-182 – One More Time… * Blink-182 Announce 2024 Stadium Tour * New Found Glory Releases ‘Catalyst’ On Vinyl * Two New Blink-182 Songs Added to Streaming * Travis Barker Teases Two More Blink-182 Tracks * The Last Beatles Song * Spitalfield Announces Some New Tour Dates * Green Day Announce New Album * Albums in Stores – Oct 27th, 2023 Music Thoughts * It looks like Blink-182 will have the number-one album in the country on next week’s charts. I’m obviously very happy for the band. The late push to add two new songs to the album and the signing event seems to have put them over the edge. Of the new two new songs, I like “See You” and am pretty impartial on “Cut Me Off.” I’m still, clearly, playing the hell out of the new album and don’t see myself stopping anytime soon. If Blink wasn’t already running away with the top spot on my Last.fm profile, them releasing a new album while Jimmy Eat World didn’t this year, is causing some dramatic separation. * This year saw the release of several albums I’ve written about that are finally available to everyone. The new Taking Back Sunday album is shockingly good. I had written off the band after not liking the past two or three albums outside of one or two songs, but this album has blown me away. Highly recommended. And then we also have The Gaslight Anthem’s comeback album getting a release, and I’ve been happy with all the positive comments I’ve seen from fans in our community. It’s become one of my most-played albums this fall, and it feels perfect for this weather—an incredible late-afternoon album. * Crime and Stereo’s new album is also worth a look and could be a late contender for album of the year lists—super solid rock album with great lyrical moments. * Sigrid released her new EP, The Hype, and it continues her streak of releasing songs that I just flat-out enjoy listening to. Great pop music. * Last week saw the release of A Story Told’s Mundane Magic, and if you’re looking for a really solid guitar pop album, this should be on your radar to check out. Catchy, really great vocals and a super fun listen. * The monster release this week was Taylor Swift’s 1989 (Taylor’s Version), and I’ve listened through once so far. The original version is one of my most played from Taylor, so I was excited to hear the new renditions and the vault tracks. I’ve seen comments ranging from “it sounds identical and reconstructed with the wisdom of time” to “it sounds awful and is so different and demonstrably worse.” My take is dull in comparison. I like… https://chorus.fm/features/articles/liner-notes-october-29th-2023/

[thee-ghosty]

Snippet #2

blood

The hero struggled to unlock their apartment door as they clutched the wound on their side. It was a rough day, to say the least. They had been tracking down the supervillain for months and when they finally got a chance to strike, they fumbled. They had been fumbling for the past few weeks. Fights that were easy once were now an actual challenge and challenging missions were impossible now.

They finally opened the door and slugged through, choosing the collapse on the couch rather than tend to the slash on their side. Would they bleed out to death or simply pass out from the fatigue? They weren’t sure and they honestly didn’t care at the moment. They just wanted to close their eyes for a few minutes and listen to the rain tapping on the windows.

“Christ, don’t you look awful.”

The hero cracked open their eyes at the sound of the voice, a scowl forming on their face. The villain was hovering above them, an eyebrow raised as they scanned their body.

“I mean, I know you’re a scrappy fighter, but damn…” The villain commented, shaking their head as the hero closed their eyes again.

“Go away, villain.” The hero grumbled.

“Maybe say please and I’ll consider.”

The hero huffed. Of all the times the villain could pester them, why did they choose right now?

“Villain, can you please get the fuck out of my apartment?”

“Hmmm…no.”

The hero opened their eyes again, staring daggers into the backside of the villain as they walked around, carefully considering the bookshelf in front of them.

“Why not?”

The villain began to walk around the room. “Because you left a literal blood trail to your home, are bleeding out on your couch, and left your front door unlocked.” They tutted. “So messy.” Then they made eye contact with the hero as they rounded back. “So unlike you.”

Did they really leave their front door unlocked? Huh, they must’ve really been out of it then.

“What’s it to you?” Hero questioned.

“Well, I’d prefer my favorite hero to not have such a boring death.”

“Aww, I’m your favorite?”

The villain rolled their eyes at that, noticing the smirk forming on hero’s pale face. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just the least annoying of your friends.”

“Uhuh, right…where are you going?” The hero watched as the villain disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of opening cabinets and shifting pots and pans leaving through the open entryway.

“Where’s your med kit?” The villain asked after a beat.

“Wait, you’re not seriously…”

The villain appeared through the entryway, a stern expression on their face. “Do you really want to bleed out to death?”

“It’s right of the fridge, third shelf.” The hero finally said. After more shuffling, the villain came back, med kit in tow, and bent down next to the hero.

“I’m going to lift up your shirt, is that alright?” They asked, concern pooling in their eyes. The hero nodded slightly, laying more flat as the villain peeled back the sticky layer of fabric. They didn’t realize the extent of the damage until the villain sucked in a breath, eyes wide at the wound. It wasn’t deep, but a wide slash covering almost the entire side of the hero’s torso. The villain made quick work of cleaning and dressing the wound, saying quick apologies when the hero would hiss at the pain.

As the villain wrapped the bandage around the hero’s torso, they felt a flash of anger go through them. This wasn’t some scrape from a fight, not against a regular criminal anyway.

“Who did this?” The villain asked calmly.

The hero looked at them, first confusion now replaced by grimness once they registered their question.

“Supervillain.”

Damnit, the villain thought.

“I thought I could take them. I should’ve been able to take them, but I was wrong.” The hero said quietly. They looked back at villain after a moment. “Why are you here, villain? Be honest.”

The villain didn’t want to say anything, but they couldn’t lie to the hero. Not now.

“Supervillain sent me. They wanted me to finish you off.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, like I said earlier,” they felt a smirk form on their lips, “I couldn’t let my favorite hero die such a boring death.”

The hero started to smile, not sure if it was because of the villain’s comment or from the loss of blood messing with their mind. “Well, I would gladly die by your hand than on my couch any day.”

The villain chuckled, placing a kiss on their forehead as the hero’s eyes flutter closed and scooped them up, carrying them to their room. They tucked the hero into their bed, they tried their best to clean the blood off the couch, and said a small goodbye before locking their apartment as they left. But that wouldn’t be the end of the night for the villain.

They had to pay a quick visit to supervillain for some unfinished business.

[yeetusdabussy]

Hi hi hi hiiiii!!!!!! I really really love your blog, and so,,,, I was wondering,,,, what do you think dante and vergil (separately) would do to impress their crush?

૮๑ˊᯅˋ๑აawe yush.. Smushy shit!

Vergil

𓈒 ❤︎︎ ࣪ ˖Vergil, Vergil,Vergil. Sigh he hates these feelings, more than anything he's ever felt in life. He knows what he's feeling, but he's gonna just say fuck it and accept it. He's not the type to impress someone. He treats it naturally.

𓈒 ❤︎︎ ࣪ ˖He starts off quite distant. Observing you from afar to really make sure you're truly worth his interest. (Man's is in so much denial) He has nooooo probably doing any favors for you. Even Dante is confused (and jealous). He even grown a habit to talk about you and isn't secretive around you. He even shows you his interests and tells you things he wouldn't tell others.

𓈒 ❤︎︎ ࣪ ˖Even Vergil is upset with himself for being so open so fast. It's when he's scared is when he backs off. He'll suddenly stop talking to you due to doubt that he will ever find peace, too much has happen in his life for something to happen again.

𓈒 ❤︎︎ ࣪ ˖Dante noticed your worried gestures to his brother who is all of a sudden ignoring you. You being Dante's best friend will give you advantages because Dante will confront his brother about it later that night. Vergil wasn't quick to open but he told Dante why eventually. Dante understands how he felt, and it meant to always expect the bad. But he gives Vergil some courage to ask you out eventually.

𓈒 ❤︎︎ ࣪ ˖He will ask you out eventually.

Vergil had approached you in the small library room of the manner and gave you the small talk you missed so much. You wondered maybe he just had a bad week that's all. "Awe Vergil, I'm quite happy to see you today, I was a little worried for you these past few weeks. I thought I did something." You looked up/down at him smiling((tall girls deserve to look down on Vergil)) "sigh, I'm sorry y/n If I'm being honest, you did nothing. It was me." You were confused about his words, and what did he mean by "it was me." What happened? It isn't until he tells you why he's been that way is when you understand. But you also laugh at him. Making him stare you confused. "You stupid goof, I always loved you Vergil... Ever since I met you.." You caressed his cheek with your thumb. He melted into your touch and chuckles. "I'm not stupid by the way."

Dante

🏹 ♡ugh, he's gonna make it known. But you guys love to play cat and mouse huh? Vergil and Nero are annoyed by you two. But Vergil is happy that someone is taking this elephant off his damn back now. Dante doesn't even need to impress you, his charm alone is enough.

🏹 ♡But Dante is weird, unlike his brother, Dante takes it differently. He loves you but he has this fear in the back of his head that YOU don't like him back and strictly just want to be friends. He doesn't wanna ruin the already good relationship y'all have because of him.

🏹 ♡Vergil is literally about kill himself. He pretty much forcefully tell Dante to ask you out already, but Dante clearly tells him how he felt and that its just for the best. Vergil didn't have time to any of it. He's gonna flat out yell at him. "SHE ALREADY LIKES YOU, YOU FOOL!" And boy is Dante happy to know! Wow his brother is smart!

🏹 ♡Hes gonna straight up ask you out.

"Hey hun, I was wondering maybe later we can go see a movie ~ I know how much you like -'insert movie genre'- so I bought two tickets." He smirks at you, and you can't help but smirk back at him, "Dante love, are you asking me out dumbass? I thought you would never ask.~" Ugh the way he's already grabbing you by the ass and kissing you hungrily has your head spinning.