#yeast infection cream

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 11

PREVIOUS

FF could admit that he may not be working with a full tank at the moment.

He had not slept very well the night before.

He had watched a lot of horror movies (a genre that he generally does not consume because his mind is already a scary enough place).

He was not able to go see his Grandma and he was going to miss the traditional(tm) Black Friday extravaganza that he and his Grandma did every Black Friday since he was little and encountered the horrible truth about Santa and she’d let him in on when / where most of his Christmas gifts were obtained. (The answer was not the North Pole under the watchful eye of elves. He had cried himself to sleep at the revelation but Gran always had a way of making the worst moments of his life tolerable.)

He may have eaten just…a bit too much pie?

He definitely ate too much turkey.

His stomach is killing him because he had forgotten to take his pepto when he had slammed that five hour energy.

His heart may actually break out of his rib cage with how hard it’s beating in his chest.

He’s been listening to Andrew and Captain Neil go back and forth for the last hour and a half between discussing Aaron’s recent mess ups, to what they’ll do to one another with a locked door between them and the world, to Andrew complaining that Neil’s hand is sweaty, to Neil saying Yes and Andrew’s hand is no longer in Neil’s and-

He clenches his eyes close.

And Andrew has swerved back into the lane for the third time in the last five minutes while saying something unrepeatable about his plans for Captain Neil and the whipped cream.

FF does not handle swerving cars very well.

He hears Andrew say something that sounds like it could lead to a very uncomfortable yeast infection for Captain Neil didn’t properly rinse off afterwards.

The car swerves over the rumble strip.

A fear far stronger than his fear of what Andrew could do to him overtakes him.

“I don’t like swerving cars. So, I’m going to ask that you focus on the road and keep your hands on the steering wheel.” FF says so panicked that he sounds calm and he watches as both Neil and Andrew stiffen at the sound of his voice. “If you can’t, then I’m going to ask that you pull over and let me out.” He offers a second option and a part of him is just amazed that his voice doesn’t crack even once. “I’m fine with either option.” He says.

He says both are fine but…

Honestly he hopes Andrew chooses the first option as he looks at the dark and lonely highway.

He looks back up at the front seat and both Neil and Andrew are looking straight forward. Andrew’s hands are on the steering wheel.

“Thanks.” He says and returns his attention to back over Aaron’s head.

The rest of the ride to Columbia is blessedly quiet. Aaron and Nicky wake up when they get off of the interstate and Nicky has the good grace to try and wipe the drool out of FF’s hair while Aaron seems unbothered by the wet spot he left of FF’s shoulder.

They get out of the car and they each grab their own bag in exhausted silence. Nicky is barely managing to put one foot in front of the other and before FF can do or say anything Nicky is in his room and has locked his door.

The room that FF had been planning on sleeping on the floor of because Nicky had told him he could so that FF would not drink 20 5-hour energies over the course of the weekend.

But Nicky had looked really tired.

So he is given a general tour by a very quiet Captain Neil and FF forces himself not to think about the cooler that Andrew had brought to, what he assumes is, Andrew’s bedroom before it was brought to the kitchen. He gets shown where the blankets and pillows that Kevin uses are and FF nods in quiet acceptance even knowing that he is going to spend the night going over Katakana flashcards and maybe up his literacy on Kanji to a second grader’s level.

Captain Neil wishes him a good night while Andrew gives him a nod and it is the last time he sees Captain Neil that night.

It is not the last time he sees Andrew.

***

Andrew comes out of his room to go get two glasses of water nearly 2 and a half hours later. The house is silent and dark. He is pretty sure him and Neil are the only two up.

He is wrong.

He comes out into the living room on his way to the kitchen and finds FF going through flashcards at a rapid pace. He walks a little closer to see what it is but the flashcards aren’t even right side up half of the time.

He thinks about the car ride.

‘I don’t like swerving cars.’

FF had said it so matter of factly. He was uncomfortable with the swerving.

Andrew had told FF recently about the words he didn’t like.

It felt like FF was offering at least something of himself back to Andrew for the first time.

Andrew thinks about how once his hands had gone back to the steering wheel FF had leaned back into his seat and stared out the window.

Andrew has at various points tried to look up what FF’s circumstances were but searching news sites for someone named ‘Smith’ with no first name to work off of was an exercise in futility.

Neil has lamented many times to Andrew about his bizarre jealousy over how unknowable Smith is. “He’s learning new languages, keeping a low profile, and playing Exy. It’s everything that I wanted in my freshman year and couldn’t manage because Riko pissed me off so much! It’s just kind of hard to see someone living my dream.” He says.

Andrew had punched him in the arm for that one.

“My old dream!” Neil had said and Andrew almost punched him again for the smile he flashed but had ended up kissing his stupid pretty face instead.

Where was he?

Right.

FF didn’t like swerving cars.

It didn’t necessarily have to be the trauma that lead to that aversion. Andrew certainly hadn’t had anything scare him on a plane but he still hated flying.

Still.

“The flash card is upside down.” He says and watches as FF pauses in his shuffling before righting that card and flipping to the next one which was turned to the side as far as Andrew could tell.

FF should be asleep.

FF is not asleep.

It might be Andrew’s fault that his friend can’t sleep.

“It won’t happen again.” He says and FF turns and stares at him blankly for a few seconds before he nods his acceptance.

It’s nice having a friend who understands what he means without needing to explain every little thing.

***

FF thinks he might have double-dosed on the 5-hour energy.

He also thinks he might currently be able to see through time.

His flashcards are making so much sense right now.

Then Andrew had come up and it truly was a miracle that he did not shit himself considering the sheer amount of apple pie still making its way through his system. That’s a lot of fiber for one body and he’s sure the 2-3 Five Hour energies he has taken are not helping his plight in that regard.

“It won’t happen again.” Is what Andrew says and in an instant FF feels his stomach drop to his feet. He nods blankly and watches as Andrew nods back before the man went to the kitchen and left with two tall glasses of water.

‘It won’t happen again’

FF has asked Andrew for TWO favors today.

TWO WHOLE FAVORS.

WHAT WAS HE THINKING?

The answer was that he WASN’T.

Even if FF had paid back one of those favors with the sheer power of his granny’s pie there was the case of the secondary favor he’d asked for in the car.

‘It won’t happen again’

There won’t be anymore favors for FF. He’d used up any mercy his grandma’s pie had bought him.

He considers the time pulls out his phone and goes through some saved text files on his phone.

It’s time for guns even bigger than his grandma’s apple pie.

He takes another five hour energy and knows that he won’t be sleeping a wink. He looks up groceries stores that are open this early on Black Friday, he grabs his wallet and with immense fear in his heart grabs the keys Aaron had dropped into a bowl by the front entrance.

He needs the ingredients for his great-grandma’s brownies.

Do your civic duty and: CAST YOUR VOTE TODAY ABOUT MEMES

NEXT

Per y’all’s requests:

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As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

[scapegoat4211]

"Days after the Beast Yeast Expedition started, Clotted Cream received word that all contact had been lost with the airship lent to Pure Vanilla. After several attempts to troubleshoot the system in case of technical difficulties, Clotted Cream came to the conclusion that something had happened to the airship. Taking Financier as his bodyguard once more, he set off for the Pure Vanilla Kingdom to inform the other ancients of what happened. Upon arriving, he held a consul with Black Raisin and Golden Cheese Cookie. However, as soon as he shared the news, Golden Cheese exploded with rage. She blamed him for losing her friends and announced that she would fly to Beast Yeast and find them herself. Before Black Raisin could stop her, she flew out the castle window and headed straight for the Dark Cacao Kingdom. Clotted Cream stopped Black Raisin from following after her, instead insisting on going after her himself. Within a few days and with some supplies generously gifted from the villagers, he and Financier set of after her."

[yikez]

me when I realise that for the past 5 or so years I've probably been having a yeast infection

[bookdoctorconsultationonline]

Effective Antifungal Vaginal Cream For Yeast Infection at Livlong

Discover the antifungal vaginal cream to get rid of a vaginal yeast infection Get more information on vaginal yeast infection cream at Livlong.

[scapegoat4211]

"Ever since the departure of her friends, Black Raisin Cookie has had her anxieties. While she has faith that they will succeed, she can't help but worry. Her worries are shared with Golden Cheese Cookie, but through stories and memories, they've found ways to bounce off one another and keep themselves in high spirits. However, after days of no updates from the Creme Republic, Golden Cheese began to spiral. Black Raisin insisted that everything was fine and tried to feed her better case scenarios rather than the worst her friend worried about. This all culminated into something dreadful when Clotted Cream arrived unannounced with a troubling message. They'd lost all contact with the airship. This information sent Golden Cheese into a fit of rage, blaming them for losing their friends. Before Black Raisin could calm her, she flew away with a single promise: that she would find them herself. Worried for her safety, she attempted to follow her, but was stopped by Clotted Cream. He told her to stay within the Vanilla Kingdom, as if both she and Golden Cheese disappeared without warning, it may cause the villagers to become panicked. Instead, he and Financier went after her. She only hopes that things end in the best way possible… and that everyone returns safe and sound."

[a-bunch-of-bees]

don't tell people they smell bad

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

what are your thoughts on those creams that are advertised as supposed to make a vagina smell better? they seem suspect to me cause they idea of sticking any creams in there unless its for an infection or issue you already have seems like a surefire way to get a yeast infection and i saw a bunch right next to the vagisil at the pharmacy yesterday and it made me kinda raise an eyebrow. but if its at the pharmacy im assuming maybe it isnt as actively harmful as i think?

hi anon,

yeah, don't use those. your vagina knows how to take care of itself just fine and it smells how it's supposed to smell; if something really is unusual about it, then you most likely need antibiotics, not an artificial scent from walmart. the vast majority of those products contain chemicals that are much more likely to know your vaginal floral WAY out of balance and make you much susceptible to infections and more negative smells.

for anyone worried about what constitutes a "normal" vaginal smell, I've borrowed this handy list from our friends at Cleveland Clinic:

A vaginal odor that smells slightly sour or tangy may be a sign that the pH level in your vaginal flora is slightly more acidic than is typical. This smell is associated with the good bacteria in your vagina, lactobacilli. Some people describe the odor as yeasty, similar to sourdough bread.

A slightly sweet or bittersweet smell, like molasses or gingerbread, may also be a sign that your pH levels have changed.

Your vaginal discharge may smell slightly metallic — like copper pennies — when you’re menstruating. This is because period blood contains iron.

A vagina that smells like ammonia may be a sign that there’s urine residue on your genitals (vulva) or that you’re dehydrated.

A skunk-like scent or a smell similar to body odor may be a sign that you’re stressed and your sweat glands are working overtime.

[wegc]

i need to give head to jeongin with whipped cream on his tip

maybe he can do the same to the reader with the same thing inside her

m m mmmmmm i’m drooling at the thought. all of it is so sexy when u ignore the possibility of yeast infections💗

but ! jeongin who convinces you to give him head by putting the cream on his cock, cooing and rubbing your head, telling you it would taste so good and that it would make him feel all tingly.

he would try so hard to resist thrusting into your throat when he sees the residue of the white cream on the corner of your lips :( even better, he’d ask you to stick your tongue out so he could ingrain the image of your messy, cream coated tongue in his mind. maybe he’ll add some of his own cream hehe!!!

[butchpeace]

Pelvic Floor Health for Detrans Women

A disclaimer before we start: I am not a doctor, a PT, or an expert of any kind, I just noticed there was a lack of information about pelvic floor health in the detrans (and trans) communities and I wanted to compile the information that I’ve gained. If there are any issues or you have any wisdom to share, please DM me! I plan to add to this post and edit it over time as I learn more.

95% of females who have been on testosterone report pelvic health issues, which can include urinary leakage or retention, bladder pain, difficulty emptying the bladder, general pelvic pain, pain with sex, vaginal dryness, vaginal atrophy, vaginismus, anal issues, and more. (Source)

If you’ve experienced any of these problems, you’re not alone, and there are things you can do!

Vaginal Atrophy

The vast majority of detransitioning women (and females who are transitioning) have vaginal atrophy, which is a thinning and weakening of the tissues that line the vaginal wall. Atrophy can lead to pain during sex, or with regular movement, bleeding due to small tears in the vaginal lining, narrowing of the vaginal canal, urinary issues, and more.

Because testosterone affects our ovaries, we can think of this issue as something similar to GSM (Genitourinary Syndrome of Menopause). Many of our symptoms mirror what happens to women as they age and their estrogen production decreases.

Treatments for Atrophy

1. Vaginal estrogen comes in the form of creams, suppositories, and insertable rings.

2. Vitamin E suppositories have been found to be as effective as vaginal estrogen in some studies. (Source)

3. Regular sexual activity can help by filling the vaginal wall tissues with blood, which can help to revitalize those tissues.

There are also many options for dryness, including vaginal moisturizers, aloe, coconut oil, and more. Sometimes the simplest natural options can be the most effective! Always talk to your gynecologist and do your own research on products you’re considering buying and make sure the ingredients are safe. Some people may experience yeast infections and other issues when using certain products.

Vaginal atrophy itself is to blame in many cases for the urinary symptoms that many of us report, and treating the atrophy may be all that’s needed in order to improve the urinary symptoms.

In other cases, we also need to look at overall pelvic floor health. I would argue that taking care of your pelvic floor is essential for any woman at any stage of life, since it can help with so many things!

Pelvic Floor Muscle Issues

Pelvic floor health issues can be divided into 2 types - Hypotonicity and Hypertonicity. Both types can lead to bladder issues, among other things.

Hypotonicity is the classic type many women experience after having children or during menopause. It’s also described as having a weak pelvic floor, and kegels are often the best treatment. The YouTube playlist at the end of this post includes videos for beginner and advanced kegel exercise methods and yoga.

Hypertonicity is the opposite type, where the pelvic muscles are chronically tight. For this, the treatment is to use muscle release methods to relax the pelvic floor. Remember - Relaxed muscles are the best at doing their job.

You wouldn’t think at first that Hypertonicity could lead to urinary symptoms like leakage, but when your muscles are overly tight, they just don’t work the way they should.

And when you have a urinary issue, or you’re dealing with the aftermath of childbirth, surgery, or any other medical trauma to the pelvic floor, there can be a tendency to reflexively tighten your muscles all the time, for fear of what might happen if you don’t. Some people with hypertonicity also experience their symptoms getting worse if they do a lot of kegel exercise. In these situations, kegels can become counterintuitive.

That said, using methods to address both types can be the best option for some people. As long as you listen to your body, keep track of how each method makes you feel, and talk with a doctor or pelvic floor PT if you have serious concerns or don’t understand how to do something, you should be able to figure out something that will help!

Vaginismus is also a very common condition that’s connected to hypertonicity and potential mental causes. You’ll know you have Vaginismus if you’ve always had trouble inserting things into your vagina, or if your partner has had trouble with it. Many women describe it as a sensation of the vagina closing up when faced with something trying to get in. You may find that at certain times or with certain objects, you have no problem, and at other times or with other objects, you do. Stretches and massages for hypertonicity can often help with Vaginismus.

Prolapse is a relatively common issue in women who have had kids and older women in menopause. This can also cause urinary symptoms. The incidence of pelvic floor prolapse in females on testosterone is not known, but due to atrophy weakening the walls of the vagina, it’s possible that testosterone will increase your risk. It’s also more common in people who have had a hysterectomy.

Tools

1. Vaginal dilators can be helpful for people who have trouble with Vaginismus or feel like their vagina is small. These are also helpful for people who have difficulty inserting fingers

2. A pelvic wand can help you to massage the internal muscles, if needed

3. Vibrators can be helpful for releasing tight muscles

4. Kegel trainers come in various types and can help you perform kegels more effectively if you know that your issue is hypotoniticy

5. Pessaries can help in cases where atrophy has led to pelvic floor prolapse. Make sure you get diagnosed before using one!

6. Your hands! Don’t underestimate the power of using your hands for external or internal massage

The biggest thing to take away from this post is this - Don’t be afraid of your vagina! Don’t be afraid to try things that may help you improve whatever issues you’re having.

Your vagina is a normal part of your body, and especially when you’re experiencing issues, that’s when it’s time to get to know it inside and out. If you’re anything like me, you’ve gone your whole life being too afraid to do certain things or explore your vagina in certain ways. We need to reduce the fear, stigma, and awkwardness of vaginal and pelvic floor issues, and the first step is to get to know your body. 💪

Exercises

I’ve put together a playlist of YouTube videos that have helped me in this process, which I will continue to add to. I hope they help you too!

And again, please DM me with any information you think is helpful or stories about what worked for you.

And if you’re a medical professional, I would love for you to review this post and suggest edits or additions.

Please share this with all your friends! My intention is for this to be a community resource we can use to spread awareness✌🏼

[soraviie]

chasing after you.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation

━ about: dynamics in order: Joon - one-night stand + enemies to lovers, Yoongi - neighbours with a bit of a bad boy influence, Jin - sort of arranged marriage au, Hoseok - exes to lovers, Jimin - sugar daddy/fake dating au, Taehyung - tease x anger issues/clingy + tsundere/f2l, Jungkook - bodyguard x ward

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: "Aw, fuck, who invited that guy?" you growled, whilst rolling your eyes at the corner where Namjoon had been so precariously sat like an asshole. You hated everything about him - the smug smile, the cocky tone of his voice, the winks he threw your way. Kim Namjoon was nothing but a sure way to get your blood pressure up and stay that way all through the night.

"Probably one of his fri- Shit! He's coming this way!" as your friend dipped over the bar and away into the crowd, courageous as ever, you snatched your drink partially pondering about throwing it into his face.

"You look lonely," he cooed with that shit-eating grin that you had wanted to smack away since the first meeting. And maybe to kiss but he didn't need to know that. "Why don't I keep you company?"

"Keep company with your left hand like you usually do," you yelled over the music.

"Well it does pair well with certain memories of you," he smirked and you groaned in disgust.

A misguided February 14th evening could lead to many foul things - unexpected pregnancy, STDs, Kim Namjoon having the delusional idea that you liked him.

Frankly, you'd rather endure a yeast infection than have this 6 feet fuckboy in the disguise of a pacifistic art lover keep chasing you every night out. More than once you wanted to slap your younger self only to come to their defence over and over again.

Namjoon was big. Big man. Big muscles. Big...well you get it.

And that may have made you a little bit stupid once! But not twice.

Yes.

"I can't stand you," you sneered at him with the most contempt you could possibly muster

"Sit on my lap then, baby."

You took a long swig to finish your drink, sliding it across the bartop and walking backwards, you levelled him down with a:

"You'd only cream your jeans, caveman."

"That's possible," he reckoned with a soft smile watching you mingle with the dancing crowd.

And for a while, it all went well, you'd find someone to at least waste some time with only for them to suddenly start sprinting away for their lives. You frowned after them, coming to a screeching halt in the fun.

Did your breath smell or something?

Taken with dancing, you hadn't noticed the broad-chested giant charging forth, smoke practically fuming from his nostril as his eyes glinted devilishly when tracking down the opponent. As the music changed, you found your waist circled by a shovel-sized palm.

"You really have no luck out here. You keep on being stuck with lil' old me," he whispered in your ear, causing long trails of goosebumps where his breath landed and you elbowed him, hard, in the gut.

He didn't even seem to mind.

"I don't know who you think you are Kim Namjoon but I will never-!"

"Oh, how you hate me," he lets out a burst of raspy laughter, head thrown back on the pillow, pulling you closer as much as he can despite you both being considerably sweaty.

"S-shut up," you grunt back, thighs aching but just a little bit more and you'll be in your happy place even if it was with this obnoxious gym rat. "You're just a cock on legs to me."

"Oh, for sure," he smirks and then prompts himself upwards to bite on your neck. "But you might think of screaming a tad quieter if you want to be really convincing."

It's a sick sense of deja-vu to wake up sore and aching all over in a sun-filled room overstuffed with cacti and a very soft blanket. The bed was empty and as you clamber to the toilet wearing a shirt found on the floor, struggling to walk, you stumble upon him in the kitchen - Cheshire grin spread all over his lips.

"Good morning," Namjoon greets. "You want some eggs, babe?"

YOONGI: His eyes track your movement as though it's dazed him and it's in moments like these you wish he was a criminal or something, a certified member of a mafia. A flag touch redder.

Stay away from Min Yoongi, they said, he's trouble but what to do when he doesn't stay away from you?

"So a kitten does come out to play," he purrs pressing one of those veiny palms against the elevator doors, halting it in its tracks and climbing in. You roll your eyes and straighten your back to appear more threatening. Yoongi, of course, couldn't give less of a shit.

"You're one to speak," you counter. "The most walking you do is through your apartment. It's like a herd of elephants."

"Well then don't listen in on what I do, you little pervert," he smirks, pressing the 8 on the elevator and it jerkily moves through the floors, reminding you once again to be grateful for life.

"Give it here," without waiting for a reply, he grabs the hold of your bags and goes straight to your apartment doors. Once inside he makes himself right at home, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"What are we eating?" he questions gruffly, examining the produce with no small amount of judgment.

"You're speaking French now?" you push him away, relinquishing the rightful ownership of a pair of avocados you bought. "Whose "we"?"

He doesn't bother gracing it with a comment as anyhow a doorbell rings and you see his tongue poke against the cheek.

"Who the hell are you?" he questions sharply and you peer into the doorway.

"Oh, hello," you greet your coworker with a reserved smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Yoongi echoes, placing his hand above your head and on the very edge of the door.

"Just interested if you're going to the uh... team bonding activities," he replies, fretfully glancing at Yoongi.

"Ignore him, I do," you smirk up at Yoongi. "And-"

"She has plans," Yoongi interrupts, pushing you back into the kitchen with his palm against your back.

"Oh, okay," your coworker stutters awkwardly, trying to lean in somehow. "See you around?"

"No," Yoongi cheerfully replies and smacks the door right into his face.

"You're such a dick," you groan.

"Did you have plans?" he asks with a teasing lilt, voice dropping nearly an octave lower. "And are you going to lie that it wasn't with me?"

"My jumbo-sized Charmander plushie and I are doing well on our own," you point at him with a packet of tomatoes. "Where you fit into the equation is a mystery."

"I'll tell you where I can fit," he laughed, wagging his eyebrows.

"No, no, goodbye," you wrinkle your nose in disgust, pushing his still laughing back out of the door. "Leave."

"Wait, what if I need some sugar?" he objects and you furrow your eyebrows, glaring up at him in suspicion.

"Do you?"

"No," he shrugs carelessly. "But what if."

"Begone, demon," you push against him harder but he seems to only enjoy it.

"Come to my game. It's right across the street in that park. I need a good luck charm."

"Will you be throwing a ball in your face? If no, then I'm not interested."

As you slam the door shut there still comes a raspy whine.

"Come on, short ass, come."

And if you do happen to drop by the nearest park with its shitty basketball court it's because you have nothing better to do and you needed some ice cream. Yoongi, uncharacteristically brazen for him, smirks at then winks in the middle of the game.

And promptly receives a ball to the face.

JIN: "Eat more garlic!"

"Straighten your hair with an iron!"

"Belch really, really loudly!"

You try to recall all of your friends' sage advice whilst pacifying your nerves. Being late nearly an hour didn't sit well with you but this guy was...determined. Insanely determined. So the ends justify the means.

When at last you arrive at the three Michelin star restaurant it's an hour later than what your family had set and you're wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Your face may burn with shame at such a display but certainly, this would beat this broad-shouldered man off the path. This was beyond and above rude. You're already prepared to be yelled at, scorned and insulted but Seokjin merely blooms into an eager smile. Doesn't even blink twice at your choice of wear.

He dismisses the host with a polite nod and pulls a chair out.

"Hello, _________," he greets innocently. "Traffic is hell, right."

There was no traffic and he knew it only making excuses to achieve whatever nefarious goal he had set out to.

"Just give him a chance," your mother pleaded over the phone. "He's been asking about you forever. Please, he's rich and handsome, what's not to like."

What's not to like? Well, probably something. Kim Seokjin in your mind had always stood as that annoying guy who'd dropped a water bomb on your head when you were about to take the most glorious profile picture ever. Spinning in overlapping social circles, you'd seen too much of him growing up and had to endure several of your friends flailing over him especially when the pool season began. He was like a jar of honey to their fly status. And as such only a tar in your own pot of sweetness.

He was old. You had not exactly a criminal age difference but still more than 2 years. He was a creep, you firmly plant that idea into the recesses of your mind.

Why oh why, was he so insistent on asking about you?

"Good idea," he praises, pointing at your outfit. "It's best to be comfortable. I should have done that as well, this is quite uncomfortable," he waves a disappointed hand over the blue three-piece suit.

The waiter along with the menu serves you a freshly plucked side eye.

"Yeah, that's why I did it," dryly you mutter back, hiding behind the menu.

Think, think, think, what else turns off snooty men?

"Fucking shit," you cry out to your own amazement. "These prices are ridiculous. I'm not paying for this!"

"That's fine," Jin shrugs with that seemingly permanently etched expression of a tender smile. "I invited you here, I'll pay."

You groan.

"I'll fart," you threaten.

He shrugs and gracefully pours you a glass of wine.

"Everyone does that. It's a part of life."

You slobber your dinner up like a beast.

"Hmm, you're making the meal look more delicious," he nods.

And not even when you "accidentally" spill a mango sauce on his pants worth more than your apartment, does he weigh the thought of becoming angry in his mind.

"Ah, it's a perfect colour now," he merely congratulates with a jubilant cry and you let your head fall on the table with a thud, only it hits his palm as he had stretched it out at the last second.

"Are you insane?" you breathe out in sheer desperation. "Why are you not running over the hills?"

"Do you really think I can't see that you're doing this on purpose?" he smirks in amusement, over the rim of the wine glass. "We've known each other for a while, I know you better than that."

"Exactly!" you yell before falling into a hush as numerous daggers shoot your way. "You know me! As the annoying friend of your cousin! Why are you asking after me all of a sudden?! What joke are you playing?"

"Well, first of all," Jin corrects all too self-congratulatory. "I've never thought you were annoying. Maybe except when you were like 14 but who isn't the worst person in the world at that age? And secondly," his ears abruptly turn quite pink and he lets the wine glass rest on the table, nervously fiddling with its stem. "I asked for you because as you may know your mother is quite eagerly seeking various wedlock opportunities. For you specifically."

That makes you groan only louder.

"Don't remind me. So, so what? You want to get married to me?" you snort at the idea but then, for the first time ever, Jin is not laughing.

"Yes," he says dead serious.

"Wait, is this a prank?" you glance all around in an attempt to find the hidden cameras. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"I'm pulling no legs. What a weird thing to do," Jin muses and you narrow him down.

"Don't joke. It's not funny. Say "got you" or something. You can't be serious?!"

"Listen, ___________, I've liked you for a while now. I wanted to ask you before you began university but then you brought Jae home and..."

"Jae? Jin, that was...that was five years ago! You couldn't have liked me for five years?"

He averts his eyes and sips on his champagne. Even his neck is red.

"Five years?" you cry out. "And you kept quiet?!"

"Well, I told you now!" he objects with some indignation but even more of a burning shame. "All you need to do is to decide what you're going to do. 'Cause I'll accept you as you are, belching, sweatpant wearing and all. Even if you straighten your hair with an iron."

For a second you sit still and stupefied on this ridiculously over-padded chair ad then you feel yourself match the heat blooming on his face.

"You know Giulia?" you ask, downing the entire wine while desperately trying not to smile at the soft amusement in his eyes.

"Of course, I know Giulia," Jin chuckles self-consciously. "Who do you think gave me the genius advice of this stuffy suit?"

HOSEOK: You should have known from the start that this would lead to nothing good. What else could wait for you at the end of the nondescript hallways of conference rooms? One thing you didn't expect however was the loathsome face of your ex-boyfriend. Hoseok was sitting already by the table, beautiful as ever, leg nervously bouncing against the floor and treacherously a click of a lock snapping in its place echoes behind you.

He springs up from the seat, nervously glancing at where you tried to somehow break through the door. Or the wall, whichever came first.

"Oh, hell no," you growled, nails scraping against the doorknob. The betraying Brutus of a friend he had bribed to text you to come here will find an egg on their window for sure.

"_____________, please, let's just talk," he pleads. "Just let...let me explain."

"I don't want to hear any explanation," you hissed, turning to glare at him. From the way his eyebrows sloped, you could tell he was deadset serious but then it comes too clearly back into your mind.

That you were weird, not his type, that he doesn't understand you. But instead of simply crying about it you left. To cry about it in your own space. And also then turn incredibly bitter over it.

"I just meant that..."

"That I'm a freak? Yeah, I got it," you snarled before yanking harder on the knob. "Open the damn door!"

"No. If you're going to leave then please do the courtesy of letting me memorize your face."

You close your eyes, steeling your resolve. Don't give in, you reminded yourself, not after a whole year of hunkering through yet another heartbreak. Hoseok was just like the rest. Taking weirdness in all the things you liked, that you were. Why should you ever change for anyone else?

"It's been a year," you note sternly, having slid on the floor. He's also there, watching away from the small distance with a crease of a frown between his brows.

"Exactly. This year was one of the worst I've ever had," he confesses, supposedly earnestly. "I admit the things that I said were wrong but I did not mean it like that!"

"________________ is just a bit weird. You know the people I used to date, there's a bit of a difference, softly said," you quote him word for word. "And you said that to someone else! You opened your mouth, said that shit and thought it was okay!"

The sun behind the window had nearly slipped over the horizon and the office space was illuminated with a soft orange glow.

"You know the first time I met you, that was a lie," he mutters into the air. No one had come to open the door despite you nearly beating it off the hinges.

"Oh, that too was a lie, wonderful," you groaned, rolling your eyes but Hoseok remains sitting sadly by, occasionally passively twirling his shoe laces.

"I actually went past you on the street. Remember the crossroad by that small confectionery?"

You did remember. You lived right above it for a while, making your hair smell perpetually of candy for half a year.

"I...I got lost around there and walked past you, and you were sort of listening to your headphones, not looking around. I remember," he chuckled as though taken by an old memory. "You wore that knitted jumper that kept falling off your shoulder, the faded beige one and I just...I was so jealous of you, you were so carefree."

You glanced at him surprised. As far as you knew the first time Hoseok and you met was at a graduation gathering, a friend of a friend sort of a situation. And as you sat there, enjoying your barbecue by the side, wondering whether to dip your ketchup-stained hand in some weed brownies, he came up to you with the brightest smile, talking as though he knew you. Guess he did then know you.

"And the next day I went there again. I didn't even know why but I just did and you were there again. And I kept returning," he smiled at the ground but it quickly vanished. "Every day for a month before I met you at that gathering. Sometimes you were there, a lot of times - not but when you did it lit up my entire day. I didn't know how to approach you though, it's not a thing you do in the middle of the street, you know?"

"No," you affirm faintly.

"And when you left..." Hoseok winced at the mere mention of it. "I still kept going back," his breath was nothing more than a whisper stained with regret. The look in his eyes was downright depressing and you wondered if he had roamed around bearing the same heavy chip that you had. "And our favourite cafe. And your favourite park spot. I was there like...like a ghost lingering in your presence."

"But why did you say then that I was weird?" you sniffled, letting, for the joke of your own mental stability, some of that defence down. Attempting to look at Hoseok without the veil of contempt you've draped over him for a year. Dragging yourself back from hell was hard, dragging yourself from hell when thrust there by the one person you thought wouldn't do that - even harder. But by peeling off at least one cover, you saw many wonderful memories behind it, as slightly tainted as they were.

"I don't know," he groaned, hiding his face in the palm of his hands. "I was stupid. I meant in my heart that you were unlike anyone I've been with before. Not bad but different. And, yes, sometimes I don't understand you but I want to," he rouses to look into your eyes across the room. "I want to. And even if I never fully understand, I would like to make you feel heard and stand by your side nonetheless."

You stare into the sun to avoid crying. Stupid thought as no one ever stared into this glowing orb of light hanging in the sky in order to not get misty-eyed.

"What I said there was, I admit, crass. I was scared because I...with you I don't want to leave. I don't want to call quits when it becomes uncomfortable or becomes uneasy, I want us to grow together. And that scares me because, for the first time, I can really truly get hurt," he exhaled a heavy sigh, voice growing strained. "So when you left, no explanation, just gone in the wind..." he glimpsed over the horizon. "Anyway, I recognise me cornering you like this is wrong but...if you ran away because you felt unloved, I just wanted to show that I'd be chasing after."

Hoseok wiped at his eyes and briskly got up.

"But if you didn't and don't want me, I'll open the doors," from the pocket of his jeans, he fished out a glinting silver key. "I really just wanted to memorize you for as long as I could. I'm sorry."

He opens the doors and you called out -

"Hoseok!"

JIMIN: The phone kept ringing. You'd put it on mute but even so the bright light of the flashing screen stirred you awake and after a brief wrangle of putting the chip bowl actually on the table nearby, kicking your leg free from the grasp of the blanket, you simply watched it ring. After eventually growing into silence, it went to the 45 unanswered calls like the rest. You sighed turned to your side and slid the eye mask over the face, trying to somehow coerce yourself into immediate and indisputable slumber.

This was just the outward manifestation of his bruised ego, nothing more. You don't think anyone had ever rejected Park Jimin so this must be a new, unfamiliar feeling, one he'll get over in time and then maybe even laugh about it years down the line.

I mean, come on, you thought to yourself cutting the words like bloodied post-it notes in your own mind. There's no such thing as a rich handsome guy genuinely falling for someone so...

The disgusting words sprung too freely on the tip of your tongue so you settle for normal. To not at least give into self-hatred so easy. Such was the plot of romantic dramas and fantasies hence why it was fiction. Rich, beautiful people went for other rich beautiful people, normal folks went for normal folks. Dogs did not mix with chickens or pandas with capybaras. It was simply nonsense.

But as you close your eyes, the memories make it harder to be as clinically objective. All too well, you remember. His hands on your face, grasping as though he feared you would leave.

"Why don't you ever believe me?" he asked with heated desperation. "Nothing I say is ever good enough. Nothing is trustworthy!"

You tried to pry him gently away.

"Because how can I believe you? Look at yourself and look at me. This is not even opposites it's...unfathomables!"

You wished partially that he'd go to the good old Mr Park of the beginning, one who'd walked up to you in a cafe and asked if for a fair amount of money you'd be willing to answer his phone and pretend to be his girlfriend. And since the sum he called out was the rate of an onerous monthly rent, you'd plastered the sweetest voice you could in a matter of seconds with no questions asked.

When thinking of all the troubles when he approached you again, completely by accident, you had thought to yourself jail, assault, violence, even cannibalism for good measure, who knew what kind of sicko this stranger could be, but never you considered you'd be scared by the simple fact that he was in love with you. He had been cold, rude and brusque at the start and you had been fine with that, your "job" was to sometimes go to family dinners and lie which while not moral was not a crime.

Only then he invited to accompany him to his office, then to trips, then to movies and then one day you wake up in your bed and Mr Park, once a cold and resigned man, drenched in his own riches, is now making pancakes on your old stovetop and smiles the kindest smile you'd ever seen and asks if you slept well.

How could it not be a scary sight?

"I love you!" he shook you by the shoulders, not hard enough to hurt but as if trying to shake the bad thoughts out. "But you hate yourself! And you never listen!"

"They'll think I'm a gold-digger!" you cried. Just looking around his apartment made you sick. You couldn't even afford his carpet. How could he love someone with whom he shared so little with? He had never known the feeling of counting one's last money to afford bread or not buying something out of impulse. And you had never known the etiquette of polite brutality, of caring about who sits where because one word spoken at the wrong crowd table could destroy your entire livelihood. Love didn't change two profoundly different experiences.

"They don't think that!" he argued. "My parents wanted me to be with someone-"

"Poor?" you interrupted finally wrenching yourself free. Why was he so cruelly saying these things? He will just make you love him and then dump you with nary concern. Like others and then in time you will always think that you should have known better. Should have gotten rid of those rose-tinted glasses sooner not when they're smashed in shatters on the cold concrete.

"No!" Jimin immediately counters. "Of a different social circle! And even if they did, I don't care!"

"But the press-!"

"I don't care!"

"The rest of your relatives and friends-!"

"I don't care!" he yelled back, ripping at his hair, faint tears lingering in his eyes. "What will it take for you to believe me?! Please, why don't you believe me?"

"I can't!" you shrieked back in a sob. "Because better you not love me at all than fall out of it after some time! I don't want to be loved! I don't want to trust! I just want to be alone!"

Alone is what you were now but it felt no better.

"It will," you calmed yourself aloud. "Give it some time and your life will return to how it was."

Boring. Monotone. A single actor performing the most dreadful play to an audience of no spectators. You sniffled punching the pillow. Stupid Park Jimin waltzing into your life and making you think you were not the person you saw in your mind. That you were better. But how can you be when you're always "you"? A nameless face in the crowd, a cog in the machine.

No one, really.

As a sudden hand wraps around your waist, you scream and nearly punch the lights out of the affectionate attacker before in the faint streetlight streaming through the windows you recognized Jimin's eyes.

"How did you get in here?" you rustled in indignation.

"I had a key made. Remember? So I could greet you at home after work," he explained sternly.

"Well, you can't be here now-" you tried to argue, even push him out if needed, but he grasped at your legs and wrestled you to sit atop of him. You always fretted you were too heavy but he never objected.

"I'll leave if you order me to leave. Say those exact words: "Jimin, I want you to leave and never return back."

"I want to be alone," you muttered out of force of habit playing with the neck of his shirt.

"It's not the same," he cupped your cheek. "Until you tell me to piss off in my face, I'll keep chasing you every time you run. You think no one would? I will. Over and over again."

Your lip wobbled.

"It's ungrateful work," you breathed as he tugged you closer into a hug, gently swaying from left to right.

"Not to me."

TAEHYUNG: It takes thirty minutes for your aunt, a known stick in the mud, to go from screaming why was there a whole ass adult man traipsing in the apartment her niece should keep an eye on, to peacefully discussing the best nut selection over the kitchen table with eagerly listening Taehyung on the other side.

You were 35% convinced he knew how to do magic, and 65% convinced he was magic. And if he feasibly could he would live in your asshole. And the worst of all you can't get rid of him.

Well no, the worst of all you don't want to.

Coming from a rough environment, no matter how you slice or dice it, that leaves its own impression upon the mind. Yours being - people leave, people lie, people bad. It was easy to go through life, more than two decades of them in selective solitude, having friends but never letting them too close in and soon after they would stop even being friends. It was easy and predictable and while no one cared for you, you had to care for no one, could go where you wanted, how and when you wanted and fully enjoy doing what you liked.

And then this curly-headed now human reincarnated tiger-bear hybrid showed up. Literally dropping out of nowhere whilst still in university, pointing a finger of his frankly too large of a hand at you and then basically saying: "I want that one, that one's mine". Actually no, he did say exactly those words as you remember faintly chucking a dictionary of law at his head, thinking he'll abduct you or something.

And that's how six years later you were moved in. And he had invaded every part of your life, with his kind words, sopping eyes and chiselled chin.

As Taehyung slowly drifted to sleep, eyes falling heavier, his hand is intertwined with yours. And as you'll go to sleep yourself, despite him having his own bed, inexplicably you'll wake up with his breath against the back of your head.

Which was strange you know. You don't even remember agreeing to be friends with him. But steady as a clockwork, lo' and behold, at two in the morning, Taehyung's thigh squirms in between yours and he sighs in content.

Bizarre to say the least.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asks in wonder, poking his very shirtless body through the crack in the bathroom doors, toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Out?"

"Wait, lemme comme with."

"Can I go out on my own? As the big girl that I am?" you huffed dryly, brows furrowed.

"No," he replied with a smile. Then you walk side by side you glare at your hands, swaying together in the warm air.

"A crazy question, one I'm just putting out there, will you ever...leave?" you ask with a faint frown. There might just be this...supposition, guesswork if you will, in your mind that it might just be that somehow you're...Taehyung's partner now.

"Hmm," he makes an act of pondering it out. "No, no, I don't think I will. Unless you kick me out."

Kick him out. Why didn't you? When previous lovers threw fits about Taehyung always being near, you parted with them with nary of guilt because they were...not your rock. Your rock and safe space had become this strange, occasionally vampiric-looking, a cardigan-loving friend of yours. But he never vocalized it. Or so you thought. He was always teasing you about being hard of emotional hearing, now that you thought about it.

You halted in the middle of the sidewalk and he turns to glimpse at you, curious.

"Taehyung...are you...in love with me?"

Astonishingly, he bursts into a peal of laughter.

"I have been for years now," he chuckles light-heartedly. "Though thank you for finally noticing."

"Wh-why didn't you say something? Anything?"

An expression of deep fondness settles on his face and it warms you like the late summer sun.

"I say "I love you" every day, dumbass. I've chased after you for like six years now. Oh, god," he gasps, sounding suddenly absolutely horrified. "Six years of my life wasted chasing after your stupid head. Oh, I'm an idiot."

"So a moron for a moron, a match made in lower intelligence," you grumble and he snorts at it, crossing the distance once more. When he takes your hand it feels weird for a second. But only for one. You ask yourself what will change and realize - not much.

"That we are Mrs Kim," he coos with a broad grin. "Great! Now I can show you the plans for our shared tombstone I sketched back in the university!"

JUNGKOOK: "He's...will he be staring like that for the entire evening?" your friend asks timidly, voice nearly overshadowed even by the pleasant music of the brunch place. You glimpse over your shoulder to find him aimlessly lounging around. When meeting your gaze, his lips, almost involuntary, spread into a wide grin as his nose scrunches in a manner that is inappropriate for any self-respecting bodyguard. He at least gathers that and sobers with a stern cough.

"Yeah, he's just...my...finance manager," lamely, you trail off but at least they believe it. Considering the last three months it wasn't that believable.

"In a twist of miraculous fate, a poor vintage boutique worker becomes the sole inheritor of the Durhanan Estate," she quotes with a mysterious smile and you squirm awkwardly as you always did when it was bought up. Six years of lawsuits had rendered the luck into a frenzied fever dream one you thought would never come to fruition. Even when the final decision was laid to rest and the lawyers of your great-grandfather popped their champagnes with cheery eyes it all felt so distant. Like a different life. That feeling, you find out, never left.

"Yeah, it's...crazy," you chuckled self-consciously.

"So is the old house haunted?" she questions leaning over the table with keen interest, though every once in a while her gaze does stray worryingly to where Jungkook was standing.

"It's just creepy. It's big...and old," you confess perhaps colouring it with hues too bold, knowing only the answer such as this would satisfy her interest. It was old and entirely too big (who needed thirty-four rooms) but with Jungkook it was less lonely, less of a ghost house and more of a...

No, it's stupid, don't say it, you think to yourself.

"So now that you're rich," she throws a not-so-small of judgemental look over the crystal glass of mimosa. "Will you be forgetting all about us?"

"No," you assure her. "This means nothing. It's just a change of...housing."

But she only scoffs in reply. You think you might not have your best friend much longer.

"You look unhappy," Jungkook reckons quietly, whilst driving back to the Durhanan estate. A nearly 300-year chateau hidden within an unnamed forest deep in the countryside. Once the chief story of the local children's ghost tales and now - your home.

Of sorts.

"I'm just tired," you deny, peering into the rolling landscape of the wilting greenery. A rougher hand suddenly rests atop of yours, stopping them from ripping the skin around the fingernails. Your face swelters with heat and you gently remove his palm.

You were his boss and this was...this was not appropriate.

But Jungkook has other ideas and despite there being thirty-four rooms and whooping nine acres of gardens there's hardly any escape from him.

"My lady, oh, my lady," he calls across the gravel path leading down into the overgrown, ivy-ridden paths. He runs up to you and then gently tucks the bloom of one of the wild roses ravaging the grounds behind your ear. He tries to suppress the smirk on his face and narrows his eyes against the glaring sun.

"You're...you," he stutters. "You doing anything special, tonight?"

You don't quite know why but that question, posed so innocently and presumably out of a need to start a conversation, makes you laugh. It was only you two here, no wifi, piss-poor electricity and the nearest town, a village actually, was thirty-minute drive away and the only thing interesting there was a two-room corner shop.

"Wondering whether we're going to be killed by demons, yes," you laughed lightly.

"I was just wondering whether we could bust out the old reliable solitaire in the library?"

You sigh but it falls more endeared than annoyed.

"Jungkook, stop trying to seduce me."

At first, his face seems to be crestfallen only for a cheeky smirk to appear.

"Trying?" he echoed and slightly leaned into you. A gust of sharp wind broke through the gardens and in sync you glanced at the sky above your heads. A cluster of dark clouds was gathering in the south.

"Let's go in," he urges softly but his body standing behind you flames your back.

A thunder was ripping outside like something crazy, rattling the panes of the window so hard you fretted they would shatter at some point. And the house screamed. Every breeze of the wind seemed to tear into the old floorboards as though they were alive.

Ghosts are not real, ghosts are not real, ghosts are not-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

You screamed your lungs out, lunging towards the golden candelabra perched on the bedside table.

"You're alright? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice swims through the dark and you exhale in loud relief.

"Do not! Scare me like that!"

After a moment and a creak of the old floor comes a bashful.

"Sorry."

Another crack of lightning. In the brief flash, you see him standing, unsure but not leaving. It was a bodyguard's duty to protect and he always took his duty quite seriously. Even if this duty was simply to protect you from any unwanted journalists and stalkers where there was none leaving him practically with nothing to do.

"Should I stay here? Protect you...from the storm?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"The storm? That is-"

CRACK!

"Yes, please and thank you," you whimper and not even a second later, the side of your bed dips.

Crickets might as well be chirping at the moment.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" he offers, sweetly, oh so sweetly as if he wasn't a little demon wearing a cheap halo. But still, the house continues its wail. How many lives had been lost in these walls? What stories did they tell?

You didn't want to know and so you agree but as he takes your palm, your hand lands on a very firm set of muscles.

"Jungkook, please retake 9th-grade biology, your six-pack is not a hand."

"It emits the same level of comfort."

He trails your hand higher, over his pecks and lands right on his heart. It drums like a fevered bird underneath your fingertips.

"Why are you so nervous?" you hum and he rolls on his side and settles himself onto the pillow.

"Because I like you. And you like me. Even if you pretend that you don't."

"It's really not ap-"

"Appropriate?" he finishes and then tugs his hands over your waist pulling you closer. "Perhaps not but you know what happens in the spooky old mansion, stays in the spooky old mansion."

His warm palm cups your cheek, stroking it with a dizzied smile.

"And if it doesn't, I'm a really good runner, so you can scurry all you like," a pause. His hand presses you even closer.

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[romanarose]

Not Tonight

Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader

Summery: Jake comes home from a few day long mission, ready to fuck your brains out... but that's not happening tonight.

Warnings: Lots of vagina talk lol, reader has a yeast infection, starts of blowjob but its interrupted, still its 18+!! Soft, soft,soft jake

*****************

When you heard the door open, you were startled until you realized it was Jake. When you saw hs figure coming through the door, you squeal and run to meet him.

“Jakey! You’re home!” You hug him tightly and greet him with a kiss. “How are the others?” You ask. Your boys all left for a nondescript time on some mission or rather for Khonshu, not knowing when they’d be back. It was 3 days.

“They are good, everything went decent. No graphic violence this time” He smiled before going for a passionate, open mouthed kiss. “But I missed you, bebita, c’mere” Jake pulled you and- fucking hell, he was already hard. “Been thinking about you the whole drive over… your little tight cunt wrapped around my cock, the way I gotta stuff it in you…” 

You are pressed up against him, and fuuuuuck did you want him too… but there was a minor problem. As he slides a hand between your legs, you reach for his wrist, and he stops immediately. “Jake, wait…” Jake stops, he always stops as soon as you ask.

His expression is suddenly soft. “Of course, mi vida, everything alright?” Jake nestles his face in your neck as his hairs wrap up in your hair.

“Yes, Jakey, I’m okay just… not tonight?”

He pulls back to look at you, his face concerned. “Of course, of course…” Jake would never pressure you… but it was very rare you turned him down. You know that Jake and Marc sometimes worry when they are gone for a few days, they worry you won’t be waiting for them, that’ll you’ll be upset… you know you have to tell him, lest his anxieties that he swears he doesn’t have eat him alive tonight. 

“Well… there just… there's a small issue…” You squire a bit, it was gross, it was embarrassing, and although you know Jake doesn’t have an issue with gross things… you couldn’t help feel like your thing was worse.

He was clearly worried as you dodged his eyes, the spiraling thoughts took over and spilled out of his mouth. “What’s wrong, amor?” When yu didn’t answer immediately, he began asking questions. “Did I do something? Are you sick?” His face goes dark. “Did someone do or say something to you?”

“No, No!” You assure your love that no one had touched you or so much as had been mean to you. “It’s just… kinda embarrassing…”

Jake coaxed your face up to look at him. “It’s okay, you can tell me”

You cringe as you look at him, confessing the issues. “I have a yeast infection…”

Blatant relief washed over him, “Oh my god…” Jake rested his forehead on your shoulder, smiling, placing his hand over his chest. “Oh thank god…”

“Jakey!” You tease, playfully pushing his shoulder. “I’m not thanking god for this anytime soon”

“Oh mi vida” He giggles a bit as he pulls you close, his voice sympathetic. “Lo siento, I am, I’m sure it’s very difficult, but my mind went to 100 worst case scenario’s.”

“I know, I know” You hold him close, feeling his hard erection against you.

His hands patted down your head. “Tell me, is there anything you need? Need me to go to the store for medicine?”

“No, thank you Jake. I got those weird monistat eggs up in my vagina creaming up my underwear as we speak”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh again, not seeming too put off by the situation in your pants. “Okay, just let me know if you need anything?”

“I will” You promise. “In the meantime…” You raise an eyebrow, cupping his crotch in your hand as you begin to sink down. “I can help you with that.”

Jake grins. “You sure?” Not a lot of hesitation there.

Your answer was to pull down his pants, and take hs cock in your mouth. “Fuck, así de igual de, chiquita” Jake groans, throwing his head back as you began to suck him off, assuring him in no uncertain terms that yes, you still loved him and yes, you’d always be here waiting for him as long as he came home to you.

But it wasn’t long before Jake noticed you squirming, and not in the way you usually did as he fucked your mouth. Your face winced as your hand tried to adjust your underwear, attempting to subtly scratch between your legs. Jake watched for a few moments before calling it, pulling out of your mouth and tucking himself away.

“Jaaaaaake!” You whine for him, pouting as you look up at him. 

“Nope” Jake popped the P at the end, and bent over to scoop you up. “You are clearly uncomfortable, I can wait another few days.” He carried you to your bed, laying you down gently. “Stay here” he insisted with a firmly pointing finger before going to dig around the bathroom.

When he emerged, he instructed you to take off your pants and underwear as he sat with a tube in one hand and a washcloth in the other. You did as you were told and he sat on the bed, that tender look on his face he only ever got with you. He places the cool washcloth between your legs, and you wince. He pulled back. “That hurt?” He says with concern.

“No” You assure him in a whispered voice. “Jus’ a lil cold”

“I know, google says its supposed to ease the burning” Jake speaks, looking at your swollen, painful and itchy cunt like his next mission, like making you feel better was more important than anything else. “Is it?”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, feels nice.”

Humming in agreement, he whips the cool clothes with gentle hands, so unlike the violence you knew he was capable of. “I see what you mean about the monistat creaming in your pants” He teases you, cleaning it up. Next, he takes the tube that you now see is anti-itch cream specifically meant for vulvas and carefully rubbed it around the fold of skin he knew so well. You watch him work, nothing but love in his eyes. In the past, boyfriends wouldn’t even buy tampons for you, nonetheless take care of a yeast infection with such care. And turning down a bluejob because you were itchy? You couldn’t think of an ex that would do that. Only Jake, Marc and Steven… they loved and cared for you the way you had never been cared for before.

“Feeling a little better?” He asks when he’s done, getting up and getting underwear from the drawer.

“UUUGGHH” you groan when you see his choice. “Not the granny panties!”

He smiles softly, coaxing you into them. “Cotton is supposed to be the best for you”

“But they are so uugglllyyyyy”

“Well, you make them look beautiful” Jake kisses your forehead and crawls into bed with you. “You tell me if theres anything I can do to help, okay?”

“Okay” You whisper. “You know, I can still-”

“No” he said firmly. “Not when you’re this uncomfortable, querida. Let’s just stay in bed, relax. Together.” You are wrapped up tightly in his arms, safe and secure.

“You don’t think I’m gross?”

“Muneca, I had a man’s intestines on me last month” He spoke bluntly.

You burst out in a fit of laugher, happy to be distracted from the itch between your legs. “Okay, good point.”

Jake did his damndest to keep you distracted, and you spent the night wrapped up in his embrace and he told you about where he traveled too, an you filled him in on the latest friend drama, feeling content and happy with him, excited to see Marc and Steven later that evening, but always happy to spend time your Jakey. You loved how he took care of you, you loved how he adored you and respected you, you loved his handsome face and comforting presence, how the terrifying fist of vengeance was soft for you, the way the tiniest little snort comes out of his nose when he laughs too hard, and the creases that form when he smiles that are distinct from Marc or Steven, how they all smile so different and laugh so different and exist so different but all so, so perfect. You love them, you love them all in their individual ways… you adored your special time alone with all of them, and right now you were thankful for your time with Jake, despite not feeling well. Jake? He made it better.

************

Just a lil thing I wrote because, I'll be totally honest, I'm just prone t yeast infections, and it sucks. I only wear cotton, I do all the things to keep myself clean, and yet! I just fucking get them and it sucks and it hurts.

@my-secret-shame @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @eyelessfaces @luciannadraven33 @trinkets01 @littlenosoul @ninebluehearts @welcometostayingawake @ahookedheroespureheart @jake-g-lockley

[macgyvermedical]

Home Nursing Advice Column #6: Home Nursing Kit

You have probably heard of a first aid kit, and you may already have one. First aid kits are pretty much for minor injuries and illnesses, and to get you through the first few minutes of more severe injuries.

This post is not about those. This post is about a home nursing kit. Things you need or would at least want to have while taking care of someone at home long term.

Note that you probably wouldn't need all of this for a home nursing kit if you have one particular patient in mind. But it's good to own some of these things just because you're probably going to take care of someone at some point- be it a child, chronically ill person, or elderly person.

Assessment/Data Gathering Tools:

Stethoscope (and ideally know how to differentiate normal and abnormal lung sounds)

Blood pressure cuff (manual and know how to use it, or automatic- upper arm cuffs are more reliable than wrist ones, but the wrist ones are cheaper)

Fingertip pulse oximeter

Nitrite dip sticks for UTI detection

Thermometer (ear or oral- the glass kind never need batteries jsyk)

Glucometer and test strips

Personal Care Tools:

Nitrile gloves

Urinal (female or male depending on your patient)

Bath basins

A lot of washcloths

Electric kettle for warming up water (mix boiling water with tap water to desired temp in bath basin)

Rinse-free soaps

Leave-in conditioner or de-tangling spray

Bed pads or diapers for incontinence (they both come in both disposable and reusable- even for adults)

Bed pads or draw sheets for positioning

Evaporative cooling towel

Hot water bottle

Ice packs

Pillows for pressure reduction

Nail care kit

Medications:

Person's prescription medications

Acetaminophen

Some kind of NSAID

Aspirin

Some kind of antihistamine

Pill organizer

Pill cutter

Petroleum Jelly

OTC antifungal (like the cream kind for vaginal yeast infections, especially if the person has a vagina or skin folds and takes antibiotics)

Laxatives and stool softeners

Wound Care Tools:

Adhesive bandages

ACE wraps of different sizes

Irrigation syringe or the ability to improvise one

Cloth or paper tape

Gauze pads. Like way more of these than you could possibly think that you could use if you're dealing with literally any wound. Alternatively strips of soft cotton cloth that are boiled in between uses.

Food Items:

Instant chicken stock

Electrolyte powder

Drink mix powders to make water more palatable

Some good milkshake recipes

Some good soup recipes

Overbed tray

[which-item-poll]

[littleredwing89]

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 6

PRINCE OF GOTHAM - PART 6

CEO!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings – Language. Fluff. Domestic fluff. Very, very minor Daddy kink.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! :) apologies for no tag list, still trying to get it working and get back into the swing of things xoxo

——

You pushed the trolley further down the refrigerated aisle, humming softly as you threw a selection of soft cheeses into it. Jason was close behind you, hand resting on your lower back. You bit back the smile at his semi protective manner as you strolled on.

You glanced at the vast array of butters frowning. Did there really have to be so much choice? Salted, non salted, low fat, garlic flavoured. You scoffed, “They must think I’m crazy, I’m not paying $10 for butter!”.

Jason’s brow creased slightly, “Do they not normally cost $50?”.

You almost choked at his ridiculous question before bursting into laughter, “Are you drunk?!”.

He grunted and threw in a butter of his own before returning close to your side. His hand rested in the same place as before sending a wave of warmth through you. You glanced at him sideways, appreciating his form. It was a change, a welcomed one mind you, to see him in black sweatpants and a simple charcoal T-shirt instead of the expensive Italian suits. His dark hair was messy, several white strands from his fringe flopping down into his blue eyes. He still looked just as handsome, maybe even more so in such a relaxed and casual setting.

Your thoughts splintered when you heard another item drop into the trolley. You rolled your eyes when you saw the whipped cream. Typical. Jason had a filthy smirk on his lips when you looked up at him, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“No”, you bent over into the trolley, grabbing it quickly, shoving it back into his hands.

“But-”.

You cut him off, “No”.

Gripping the can in his hands, Jason pouted before pressing his lips to your hair, “But I have an idea”.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feel of his lips brushing against the crown of your head before you whispered, “You’re not putting it on your cock”.

Jason grunted quietly, “Kill joy”, he shoved it back into the fridge before looking at you, eyes glittering darkly, “What about on your pussy?”.

An old lady passing you both gasped and scuttled by, muttering angrily to herself. She looked completely disgusted with both you and Jason.

You blushed before shaking your head, “Yeah…that sounds like a yeast infection, no thanks”.

He smirked and palmed your ass, tugging you closer to him. His chest pressed against you, “I’ll just have to find something else to eat off you”.

His husky voice sent shivers down your spine which you tried to pass off down to the cold atmosphere of the aisle.

“You’re a sex pest”.

Jason shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “Oh, that reminds me I need more coffee”.

“What the-”, you shook your head in disbelief, “How did you leap to that?!”.

“Sex pests need their energy to harass beautiful women...like you”, his voice oozed with the charm he laid on in the office. The one you swore wouldn’t work on you but was suddenly making you flush pink.

You shoved your palm into his face but smiled fondly. He pretended to bite your fingers in a playful gesture causing you to giggle. You briefly wondered what you both looked like to the other customers. Some love sick couple, who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Butterflies flooded your stomach at the thought of being mistaken for a real couple.

“You know, I don’t remember the last time I came here”, Jason spoke as you made your way further into the supermarket, throwing a bag of pasta into the trolley.

You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”.

Jason dropped in some of the more expensive pasta sauce before looking at you, “I don’t - well - I don’t usually do my own shopping”.

“And you call me princess!”, you smirked.

Jason pinched your ass, “You're Daddy's little princess…”.

He went to kiss you but the same old lady from before coughed loudly, clearly having heard your conversation. She hobbled forward with a glare, “Excuse me, you’re blocking the pasta I need”.

You stepped back, burying your face into your hair. You wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. What must she think of you both?

Jason gave her a dazzling smile, “Sorry sweetheart”.

There it was, that same slick charm only even thicker.

“Do you want me to help you with that?”.

His suaveness clearly didn’t work on her as she grunted, grabbing the sauce before waddling off down the next aisle, mumbling about the filthy next generation.

The pair of you shared a look before laughing. He grabbed your hand and tugged you gently, “Come on princess, I need a few more things before we can go”.

———

The whole scenario of you both in the supermarket had your mind hazy. Such a domestic task completed together. It made you feel warm inside. You knew this was new for Jason too, wondering momentarily if he’d ever shared this side of himself with anyone before. Maybe that’s why he was so closed, insisting this was nothing more than passion between the sheets.

He’d vanished for a moment to grab something from one of the other aisles, telling you to carry on. You skimmed your eyes over the freezers, spying the vegetables you wanted. You opened the freezer and grabbed the bag of frozen broccoli before closing the door behind you. You shrieked when you turned and saw Jason right behind you. 

Your grip on the frozen vegetables tightened as you looked up at him, “Jeez, are you trying to-”.

He cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, your back wedged against the ice cold door. You shuddered, gasping into his mouth at the duel of sensations. The bitter coolness biting into your back fighting against the heat of his mouth and kiss.

Without thinking, you dropped the broccoli and wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You felt him smirk and his tongue grazed against yours, hips digging into yours. You could feel the outline of him and the thoughts firing in your mind started to make your stomach twist.

Jason pulled back suddenly, your cheeks tinged pink. He grinned cheekily before bending down to pick up the rudely discarded broccoli.

“I think you dropped something princess”.

You gathered your thoughts and ripped the bag of frozen vegetables from his hands, “Let’s go pay for our shopping Casanova before you can’t control yourself”.

His deep laughter followed you down the rest of the aisle, his hand settling on your lower back again.

———

Jason pressed a button on his car keys and the boot opened slowly. You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Neat trick”.

He grinned, “It was an optional extra when I bought it”.

You ignored him and loaded the bags into the back of the car quickly. As soon as the trolley was empty, Jason wheeled it away back to the trolley station. You closed the boot with a thud and rested your ass on it gently, eyebrow raised.

“Well, I gotta say”, you gave him a coy smile, “This was an original date, I’ve never been taken to the supermarket before”, you spoke as though it was a hidden scandal. Jason Todd, shopping in Walmart.

“It isn't a date”, he grunted and stepped a little closer to you, eyes raking over your body. You’d purposely worn these yoga pants knowing how much he liked the way they clung to your curves. Curves he wanted to worship.

“What would you call it?”.

“Killing time”.

You didn’t take offence to his flippant attitude. You expected it. Despite what he was saying, his actions were doing the complete opposite. Telling you all you needed to know about the man in front of you.

“You”, you prodded his solid chest, “Are severely lacking brain cells”.

Jason huffed, “I needed to go and so did you, two birds one stone”.

He almost sounded convincing. Almost. But the way he was caging you against the boot of his car told you otherwise. He was stubborn. That you had to admit. He just needed a little coaxing. A little reassurance. And maybe some gentle teasing.

You nodded, “Mmhmm, sure…Mr. I don't do my own shopping”.

“It was convenient”.

“Jason”, you whispered softly, batting your eyelashes up at him, “You even kissed me next to the frozen broccoli…which was so steamy it almost melted my vegetables”.

Jason didn’t miss the light teasing in your voice and smirked, “My princess has kissable lips, no one can blame me for that”.

“My princess?”, you stroked your hand up his chest, the cotton soft under your fingertips, “How possessive…you almost sound like my boyfriend”.

He growled low and crashed his lips against yours. You purred softly as his 5 day old stubble tickled your skin, hands snaking around his neck to play with the hair at the back of his head. Jason pressed you further into the metal of his car, one hand gripping your hip, the other cupped around the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place. It might have sounded cliché, and something out of one of your grandmother's romance novels but Jason’s kisses completely took your breath away. 

You grinned into the kiss, pulling away slightly, your lips brushing over his as you spoke, “Your publicity team is gonna have an aneurysm if we get caught, what will the paparazzi say if they see their Prince of Gotham getting x-rated in public?”.

“I don’t care, they work for me”, he muttered, stealing another brief kiss from you, “They can work their magic and earn their salaries”.

Your lips kissed across his cheek, stopping at his earlobe, whispering, “I got the whipped cream…”.

Jason shivered and the hand on your hip flexed, “Oh did you?”, he smirked and pulled your core to press against his crotch, you felt his bulge twitch which was barely hidden by the fabric of his sweatpants, “I know what I'm having for dessert tonight”.

“I thought you wanted me out of your apartment tonight, something about a poker night with the boys?”, you pulled back quickly, your eyebrow quirked upwards.

Jason tugged you back to him, “You’ve got cuter reactions”. He nipped your bottom lip, enjoying the way your gasp stroked over his lips.

“So you’re cancelling on the boys for lil’ ole me?”, you nudged your nose against his before planting a delicate kiss to his lips, “They’re definitely going to think you have a girlfriend if you keep cancelling on them”.

“I'll still be enjoying myself”, he brushed it off completely and stood back slowly, his hand finding yours without question, “Let’s get back, there’s a bottle of whipped cream with your name on it”.

He walked you round to the passenger side of the door before opening it for you. You smiled at his behaviour and kissed his cheek before slipping into his Audi.

———

[silivren-vera]

Newly Omega Bruce

Bruce gets yeeted into another universe, where he's an omega. His body changes magically to match thw new environment. Never having dealt with any of this shit personally, he quickly gets the hang of things. I mean, he'd raised Cass and Stephanie for a while - he vicariously knew about cramps and periods. And he fully agrees with Barbara - God was stabbing him slowly with a blunt stick.

But then, mid way through the month, everything starts burning. The itchiness is driving him up the wall. He thinks for the first days that it's a UTI. But then comes the discharge.

And so, the most awkward conversation in his life with Dr. Thomas about why his burning crotch suddenly spews out cottage cheese gunk ends with being given an inch long pill, a hollow stick, and a tiny tube of cream so he doesn't hurt himself down there.

Because of course his omega reproductive organs want to kill him. If it's not heats, it's cramps and now yeast infections.

[leam1983]

"Assume" makes an ass out of U and me...

It's the dead of summer, which for me equals Sweaty Toes Season. It also means Foot Fungus Alert Season, too. Athlete's Foot loves me like Jerry Lee Lewis loved his cousin, and it's as creepy as it sounds.

So, I'm at the drugstore yesterday, after my shift, and notice that the only stock of clotrimazole left is in the "pink aisle", to uncharitably refer to women's health products. Seeing as the same thing that handles yeast infections absolutely chews through Athlete's Foot, I pick up a tube and drop by the counter. The kid at the register is maybe eighteen at best, and she gives me an odd look.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask.

She shrugs, trying to play off her surprise - and her slight disgust. "Nothing; it's just that you're sort of young to be using a walker - and that's women's stuff."

I smile with teeth. "I see. Well, the uncharitable answer to both questions would have to be 'Nunya', but I could also mention that there's no molecular difference between general antifungal and clotrimazole cream that's specifically marketed for the treatment of yeast infections. It's the same thing, just packaged in two different tubes - with the Pink Tax applying for the second one."

She blinks. "You're not a doctor, how do you know?"

I blink back. "How do you know I'm not a doctor? Should I look like Hugh Laurie and pack a cane instead of a walker?"

The poor kid is in the weeds. "So... You're a doctor?"

My smile widens. "No, actually. Now is the part where you ask me what Nunya is."

"What's Nunya?"

"Nunya Business. And I'll be paying with debit, thanks."