#always sanitary pads

[hjellacott]

"Always" period pads - toxic as hell

After 15+ years of periods, I moved to a new country and decided to give the "Always" period sanitary pads a chance. I got the sensitive, soft, unscented ones — and hell began.

Within one day of using them, I was super itchy in my vagina. Now bear in mind I had never before in my life had vaginal itchiness. Pubic itchiness, occasionally, yes, even the odd vaginal itch now and then, but not during an entire period, practically every hour, and with a level of intensity that was driving me insane. I'd never had an infection there, nor a virus, I hadn't had sex, no way I had STDs. But it itched horribly and when I peed, the itchy area stung. And so I began worrying.

I read everything I could find on diseases, bacterial infections and viruses affecting the nether-lands, I looked down there with a mirror, tried to feel for blisters, checked the smell, analysed fluids and dryness... and I still couldn't find anything remotely abnormal other than the fact that it itched. At last my period ended and, two-three days later, so did the itchiness. Phew.

And then the next period began, and the next. It took a few tortuous periods filled with horrifying itchiness and burning down there for me to realise that the only thing I was doing differently to pre-stinging days was changing the brand of my period pads. I had bought two boxes of "Always" sensitive, soft skin pads. Two. (Note to self, when trying a new brand, only buy one box). I still had half about twelve pads left to get through.

Desperate, I looked online to see if the brand wasn't good, and here's the hell I found:

I've now stopped using Always pads and my symptoms have immediately improved. I've contacted the supermarket demanding explanations, doubt anything will happen, but still. I've also contacted my doctor to see if this can be reported, because I can't believe that with studies saying Always pads contain irritants and carcinogens, they're still being sold left and right.

Please, please, please, for the love of God DON'T BUY ALWAYS PADS. REPORT THEM. SPEAK TO ANY CONSUMER'S ASSOCIATION YOU'VE GOT IF THERE'S ANY (here there's none useful). Contact your representatives! DON'T LET A BIG COMPANY GET AWAY WITH MAKING WOMEN ILL ON PURPOSE.

[maryoliverdotcom]

after somehow learning a few unhinged facts, i have decided that i hate all boys. not men, though.

there's a difference.

[femvertising]

Awesome ad from Always breaking gender stereotypes! A female is driving a car and needs to pull over to change her pad. Unfortunately, her car breaks down. A bunch of men run over to help but aren't very helpful and argue. Always Ultra protection gives the lady the confidence to take matters in her own hands and she fixes the car by herself faster than 6 men. The men are shocked but the lady smiles and is full of confidence.

[1eos]

ppl who have strong opinions on what menstruation products other people use are very strange to me....we’re all soaking up blood somehow beloved

[timepads]

Quality sanitary pads are designed to be highly absorbent, keeping you dry and comfortable throughout the day. Always sanitary products, are well-known for their simplicity and accessibility. They have also set high standards for pleasure and protection. They are also made of breathable materials that allow air circulation, reducing the risk of irritation and rashes.

[floatyflowers]

Helaurrr I'm thinking of a young reader getting their period for the first time any character will do like sibling/parents yk 🥹

Dark Platonic! John Wick, Hannibal Lecter, and Thranduil x Reader

Father! Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal almost had a stroke when he saw trails of blood on the floor, after waking up.

Thinking that someone might have broken into the house and killed you, his 10-year-old daughter, he quickly rushes to where the blood trails lead him to.

Only to find you in the kitchen, in front of the open fridge, eating your favourite snack as if there's no blood between your legs.

Realizing what is happening, he makes you have a bath, and change into new clothes after teaching you how to use a pad.

Hannibal made sure to explain what was going on in a simple way.

But, you only pout.

"Does it have to come every month? Why not every ten years?"

Father! John Wick

When your period arrived, you already knew what you were going to do.

But that doesn't mean John would not coddle you, and make sure you have everything you need.

Especially since his wife's death, he had to be the mother and father for you.

You are the last thing left of his wife, so he will do anything in his power to make sure you are always safe and happy.

He would kill for you, and also kill anyone who would try to steal you from him.

John would make sure to buy the most expensive painkillers and sanitary pads because he is against you using tampons.

Also, the painkillers might be the same ones he uses after treating his bleeding wounds.

Grandfather! Thranduil

Elf women get their period at a much older age then humans, and their period comes every three months.

Meanwhile, you are half-elven, so you got your period around the same age as human girl would.

So, the Mirkwood king got confused when he saw you, his cheerful granddaughter, having bad mood swings.

Directed at him.

Thranduil also got angry, when you were good with servants.

He felt like it should be the opposite, he should be the center of your attention.

So, he locked you up until your period is over.

Let's just say when Legolas got back from his mission, he got into a huge fight with his father.

[spiderlyla]

im on my period and im having a miguel brain rot so you guys bear with me—

but can you imagine how tender miguel would be during your period?

like i imagine he'd be home for however long it lasts just so he could assist you

first two days are the worse and he knows that full well, so he does everything in his power to make you feel like you don't need anything

sanitary products? all accessible in one place and in your feild of vision so you don't have to think too much while trying to find them

snacks? he bought all of your favourites, put them all on a big bowl beside your bed for you to munch on while watching that silly spanish soap opera on your laptop to distract yourself

anything else you might need? he has it all covered.

hes much more softer when he sees you bent over in pain, too stubborn to listen to him. he just wants to make you feel better

"nena, come on, I heated this up for you, it'll make you feel better." he'd be offering a heated pad, but you'd shake your head, squirming in place. "I promise you'll feel better, hermosa, don't you trust me?" his kind tone would make you give in just a few minutes later.

when the heating pad was no longer doing anything, you'd guide his hands to your lower stomach and he'd keep them there. his hands are always warm and the feeling of his skin soothed the cramps for a bit

once you feel okay enough, you'd tell him to lay beside you and he complies without second thought, wrapping your figure in his big arms and pulling you close to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat and those gentle soothing words of his lulling you to sleep that was so rudely intruppted by your cramps earlier this morning

"you're so pretty, mi sol", "mm, pobrecita, you're clinging to me really hard, feeling comfortable?" , "duérmete, amor, estaré aquí cuando despiertes. ¿vale?" [go to sleep, love, ill be here when you wake up, okay?]

and you bet your ass he's going to be there, playing with your hair or massaging your abdomen gently.

and when you start ovulating? he's for sure going to be home for it too

but this time, it's less for you, and more for him.

tell me if you guys want a part 2🤭

[babyleostuff]

could you do how svt looks after you when you’re on your period/ how they react when you start your period at their place? on my period rn and having the feels lol thank u

thank you so much for your request! sending love and comfort to every menstruating soul out there <3

seventeen taking care of you on your period | OT13

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

𓆩♡𓆪 he cannot stand seeing you in pain, so he does a thorough research on how to help you 

𓆩♡𓆪 randomly starts explaining how he read that broccoli and kale helps with period cramps 

𓆩♡𓆪 when you assure him that his cuddles are enough, he pouts and says that they can’t possibly help you feel better :(((

𓆩♡𓆪 regardless, he wraps you up in blankets and puts your head on his chest, while your favourite movie is playing in the background 

𓆩♡𓆪 and when you’re laying down on the couch, he makes sure to gently rub your tummy or put his warm hands on your lower back, to ease any aches that you might have there

YOON JEONGHAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 somehow is always prepared for your period

𓆩♡𓆪 so if you’re out in public and forgot to take a pad or a tampon with you, don’t worry - he is stacked up with them

𓆩♡𓆪 always keeps you close, so he knows when your cramps are getting worse 

𓆩♡𓆪 during your period he smothers you with extra affection (but makes sure that you’re not feeling suffocated or overwhelmed) 

𓆩♡𓆪 if you're out with other people, he has his arm wrapped around your waist, stroking your hip with his thumb, to let you know that you can always lean on him 

 HONG JOSHUA 

𓆩♡𓆪 slayer of period cramps and back pain 

𓆩♡𓆪 he is build for this and he never fails to take care of you every. single . month 

𓆩♡𓆪 if you ever start your period at his place, he is quick to give you painkillers to prevent some of the cramps and tells you to take a hot shower, while he prepares dinner 

𓆩♡𓆪 he also gives you his t-shirts and hoodies, because he know how much you enjoy wearing them (sprays them with extra cologne just because he can)

𓆩♡𓆪 knowing that you tend to get a bit self conscious during your period, he compliments you a lot and always makes sure to tell you how beautiful you are

WEN JUNHUI 

𓆩♡𓆪 tries to make you laugh in any way possible

𓆩♡𓆪 but the second he sees you wince in pain, he’s back on the couch asking you if you’re alright 

𓆩♡𓆪 if you ever stain the bed sheets, he immediately tells you to take a warm shower, reassuring you with lots of kisses that it’s alright, because you have no reason to be embarrassed 

𓆩♡𓆪 he hates the idea of you being in pain, so he always buys a ton of different painkillers 

𓆩♡𓆪 mentally curses your period for making you feel so miserable every month

KWON SOONYOUNG 

𓆩♡𓆪 kind of helpless, because he doesn’t want to risk doing something wrong that will only make you feel worse 

𓆩♡𓆪 he is attached to your hip and does not want to leave you alone, so you spend most of your days at the dance studio

𓆩♡𓆪 comes back home with the most random stuff that are supposed to help you with the pain (he read online that they help, SO THEY HAVE TO HELP) 

𓆩♡𓆪 if you get emotional, he gets emotional as well and then you’re just a crying mess

𓆩♡𓆪 to make each other feel even worse, you watch a side movie and the weep in each other’s arms for the rest of the night (but it’s okay because you’re crying together <3)

JEON WONWOO

𓆩♡𓆪 gets so much more affectionate with you when you’re on your period 

𓆩♡𓆪 but because the sight of you in pain makes his heart break, he can’t help himself but drift towards you at any given moment 

𓆩♡𓆪 puts your head on his lap when he reads, so that he can read to you as well and gently sets you on his lap when he’s gaming, so that he can rub your back from time to time 

𓆩♡𓆪 has no shame in buying pads or tampons, because he’ll do anything for you (and there is no shame in being a man and buying their partner sanitary products)

𓆩♡𓆪 says “tasty” at any given moment because knows how much it makes you laugh 

LEE JIHOON

𓆩♡𓆪 reminds you to take the painkillers (he leaves a bottle at your nightstand before he goes to work in the morning) and reminds you to eat (leaves a note at the fridge doors that he ordered your favourite breakfast take out) 

𓆩♡𓆪 you spend your every free moment in his studio so that he can keep an eye on you and work without worrying about you being home alone and having no one there to help you in case you need it 

𓆩♡𓆪 holds your hand at any given opportunity, it’s his little affectionate way of comforting you  

𓆩♡𓆪 watches your favourite movies and shows, no matter how stupid or bad they think they are, because it’s the least he can do to make you happy 

𓆩♡𓆪 nothing gives him more peace of mind than seeing you finally falling asleep after a rough day full of pain and cramps

LEE SEOKMIN 

𓆩♡𓆪 his baby is in pain HELLO IS THIS THE END OF THE WORLD??? (then you remind him that this is how every month looks like) 

𓆩♡𓆪 calls his mum for advice, but also spends some time doing his own research after you’ve finally fallen asleep 

𓆩♡𓆪 surprises you with flowers and your favourite food, because he’s just romantic like that 

𓆩♡𓆪 and it never fails to bring a smile onto your face, which is the most important thing for him 

𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn’t want you to move too much, so he helps you with all your house chores

KIM MINGYU  

𓆩♡𓆪 during your period you’re only allowed to wear his t-shirts and hoodies, because he insists that they are more comfortable than your own clothes

𓆩♡𓆪 makes you ramen and food he knows that you particularly enjoy (tries to spoon feed you, but you shush him aways, saying that menstruation isn’t a sickness)

𓆩♡𓆪 90% of the duration of your period is spent on the couch cuddling because the best heat  source is your boyfriend's arms 

𓆩♡𓆪 if at any point you leak, he quickly comes up behind you and wraps his jacket around your waist 

𓆩♡𓆪 and if you feel embarrassed or bad about it, he spends the entire night kissing your face, assuring you that it wasn’t a big deal and that he’d always be there to take care of you

XU MINGHAO 

𓆩♡𓆪 makes herbal teas for you, while you’re resting in bed 

𓆩♡𓆪 and runs you warm baths in the evening to relief you of any pain that you might have (he lights up some candles and plays music in the background to make the whole experience more soothing) 

𓆩♡𓆪 drawers in his apartment are filled with sanitary products for you

𓆩♡𓆪 and if you run out of anything, without even asking, he’s out the door on his way to the nearest convenience store 

𓆩♡𓆪 if you’re up for it, he tries doing yoga with you or any type of light exercise that might help with your cramps

BOO SEUNGKWAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 treats you like you're the most delicate thing in the world, because the sight of you in pain makes him so so sad

𓆩♡𓆪 he always has painkillers and a heating pad ready for you, along with your favourite food and snacks 

𓆩♡𓆪 whenever he sees you wince in pain from your cramps, he rushes to your side with wide eyes, asking a hundred (mostly unnecessary) questions (he’s just worried)

𓆩♡𓆪 glued to your side, because he claims that he’s the best source of comfort (he’s right)

𓆩♡𓆪 loves singing to you, because then he can physically see you relax and drift off to sleep

CHWE VERNON

𓆩♡𓆪 a clueless baby 

𓆩♡𓆪 doesn’t quite know what to do, but is ready to do anything you ask him for 

𓆩♡𓆪 if you ask him to buy you pads, he comes home with six different brands because he got confused with the colourful packaging and the sizes 

𓆩♡𓆪 will make a fort in your living room to cuddle and watch your favourite movies

𓆩♡𓆪 and if when he sees you wince in pain because of your cramps, he pulls out a heating pad out of nowhere

LEE CHAN 

𓆩♡𓆪 he hates seeing you in so much pain every month, it breaks his heart :(((

𓆩♡𓆪 does everything you ask him to do and probably scolds you for getting out of bed (no matter how much you reassure him that you’re okay and that your period isn’t a death sentence)

𓆩♡𓆪 gives you a lot of tummy and back rubs, along with kisses on your cheeks, because he know how happy they make you <3

𓆩♡𓆪 if your cramps aren’t that bad, he brings you to his dance practices because he knows how much you enjoy watching him dance 

𓆩♡𓆪 he wraps you up in one of his hoodies and a blanket, and in case you want to take a nap, he has a fluffy pillow ready

[blueparadis]

❝ FIRST CODE RED ❞ !

( 𝐢 ) → f!reader, established relationship ( they're all married ), some flashbacks, suggestive, fluff & humor, mention of periods, sanitary pads, parenting, them being adorable dads. headcanon format plus scenarios about their daughter experiencing first time bleeding. characters include—sae itoshi, nagi seishiro, isagi yochi, bachira meguru.

( . . . ) → kudos to dawn for this. @lalunanymph-main . A small gift for her when she comes back. | redirect to blog navigation| tagging –› @tokyometronetwork @fueledbysano

⌗ SAE ITOSHI

Those teal restless eyes dance all around the house and then land on the wall clock. Although occasionally but Sae seems to lose patience with each tick of the clock, each breath growing longer than the bygone moment. He remembers being like this when his wife was in the washroom with a pregnancy testing kit while he was in another country, following another time in another country. He almost cried after his match, and still thinks it was for the victory and not for the positive news of her pregnancy.

And now, he has to sit in the lounge waiting for her daughter who just had her very first bleed. She thinks she got her mother's presence of mind for calling her first and since she was not able to pick up the phone Sae witnessed half of her daughter’s face through the opening of the washroom door, lips parting, and voice steadily asking for sanitary pads. His first instinct was to call her but his daughter quipped, “I already tried calling her. She isn't answering. Probably busy.” So, rather than scouring her cupboards for sanitary pads, he got them from the store, easier and faster.

“Are you feeling all right?”Sae asked with tension brimming all over his body.

She shakes her head, grabs a pillow places it over her belly saying, “um-hm. Just. . . just feel tired.”

“Alright, come here princess.” His daughter carefully walks in between the space of the tea table and the sofa while holding her father's hand as support. She glances at him, pouting, and then sits beside him for a while only to rest her head on his lap.

“I wish I could talk to Mama” Sae smiles at her confession running his palm over her head, caressing and saying, “I wasn't there for her so many times. Always busy with soccer and as such. When I heard that I'm going to a father over a text, all I thought of was to leave the game and come home. But she never complained. She said she's gonna come to visit me. ”

“Are you listening?” Sae asks since the rise and fall of her chest is long, relaxed and he could hear a low purr. “Ah! She missed the best part. ”

“Well this is a rare sight ”

“jealous?” Sae asked taking another cushion to rest her head on it.

She responded, “try again.” before emptying half of the water bottle.

Sae curls his hands around her waist and rests his chin on her tired shoulders murmuring, “She had her first period. ”

“Oh god. Oh my god,” She checked her phone. “I couldn't pick up the phone i was on the bus.” She was aware that her daughter was calling since she had different ringtones for her daughter, her husband, and her brother-in-law.

“It's okay. I took care of it. And was telling her about you”

“ about me?”

“um-hm. How you were so quick to convince Rin that he took the next flight with you and came to visit me. . . and when I saw Rin carrying your bags I was so jealous ”

“Ah! There we go again ” Rin exclaimed in a whispering audible voice throwing his hands in the air in disappointment, from the entrance of the room watching all of these unfold. Sae recoiled like a spring from his wife glaring at his brother, Rin who was being a major hindrance for all the hard work Sae did to get his wife a little in the mood.

⌗ NAGI SEISHIRO

The cash machine beeps making Nagi more nervous than before as he weakly taps his feet on the floor. He has never done this before, not for his girlfriend and definitely not for his wife. Sure, there were times when he witnessed other people buy sanitary pads, maybe even when he went out shopping for groceries with his wife, but never alone like this, standing at the apex of the queue waiting ( and being the center of attraction ) for that particular thing to cash out. Why does it have to be like this? He just came to the nearest grocery store to buy a few things and that is when his daughter called saying that he needs to buy a pack of pads too.

He hates it, hates the fact that he is not there for his family. Not enough. His daughter is alone in the house, god knows what's running through her mind and his wife is on her way home, stuck in traffic. Well, he is no better. He is stuck in a queue. Even though both of them were aware, they could not do much other than wait.

Somehow he thinks his daughter is tougher than him or the fact that she was aware of what's happening to her body. He is thankful that his wife taught her things at the right time and talked her out of it because some firsts can be terribly scary, if not adequately aware of it's happenings.

The cashier looked at him with surprise asking, “this pack has the same price. But it has wings. Would like me to switch? ”

He tilted his head taking both the packs in his hands mumbled to himself,“Do they make you fly or something? ” He looks up to the cashier noticing a tug on her lips that instantly pushes him into a hole of embarrassment. Why does he have to be like this?. “I’ll take both,” he comments and leaves as soon as the payment was done.

Fifteen minutes. It took fifteen minutes for her to freshen up and come out of the bathroom. The longest fifteen minutes Nagi has ever been through. He was on the couch watching TV, trying to and when he noticed his daughter walking towards him and then slouching beside her he couldn't help but chuckle. It reminded him of himself.

“Here, I brought these” he hands out a packet of ice creams and chips to his daughter. “Mama is gonna scold me for having these. I wouldn't be able to eat dinner for sure.” She protested while Nagi grabbed a juice from the packet exclaiming mischievously, “Who says you're getting scolded alone?” handing her a gamepad.

⌗ ISAGI YOICHI

When Isagi walked out of the store buying pads he did not think of the consequences of not picking her up after school for the past few days. It has been weeks since he picked up his daughter from school and sadly that is the only time he properly gets to talk to her, hear her smiles, and see if she is holding up alright or not. It is not like he did not want this, albeit he wanted this, he worked for this to build a home with her. Guess it really takes a toll on the child when both parents are working.

"All okay?" Isagi asked as he walked into the drawing room holding two bags in his hands.

"What is all these?" She asked throwing her hands up in the air, her voice keeping low as much as possible so that she does not wake up her mom. She came straight home when she saw Isagi's text; a text that conveyed that their little girl is now a big girl. And of course, with all the rush, nervousness, and work exhaustion she forgot to buy a fresh set of pads.

"don't worry. I did not forget to bring pads." Isagi said handing her one of the huge packets filled with different types and different brands of pads. He leans to take a look at his wife who was asleep seated on the couch with her head resting on her hand. "no wonder my calls and texts were not reaching her." Isagi carefully lays her down on the couch while his daughter grabs a pack of pads and heads toward the bathroom.

Something does not fill right by Isagi. It is Friday. His wife is supposed to be working late on Fridays but she is here asleep on the couch. He is supposed to pick up her daughter from school, not her. He is supposed to cook dinner for today yet she has been doing it for some Fridays. When did his home start running on fuel? like a factory .

His daughter walks out of the bathroom and halts in surprise in front of the kitchen counter seeing her dad behind the kitchen counter and chopping vegetables. "What?" Isagi asked while his daughter squints her eyes at him saying, "Did you fight with mama too?"

"Probably." and she chuckles at that.

"can I help you?" she chimes walking towards her dad, standing beside her peeking to see what was boiling. It smells nice.

"Only if you tell me what were you talking to mom while I was out..." Isagi says holding his fist out towards his daughter.

"Sure," she exclaims giving him a fist bump.

⌗ BACHIRA MEGURU.

From the moment his daughter told him that she had her first period he has not stopped googling, texting, or calling. It is back-to-back. His immediate reaction was to call her, his wife and luck seems to be on his side. At least he felt so when he heard her mellowed voice saying, "hello." And there it is. the calm in the chaos of his life.

He tells what happened and when it happened to ask where he could get pads, as in, if they're out of it or if he can find them in the usual place. Many times he has done that. She had told him where she kept the pads and he would bring her while she was still in the bath. So, it is nothing unknown to him, nothing to be freaked out about. He drags the drawer in gasping finding it empty. Of all the days, she had to run out of pads for today. So, he wastes no time doing the needful but the question is how? he has never bought pads before. He tried calling his wife again but it was all in vain, must be in a meeting.

Bachira can feel it, feel her stares on him while his eyes are glued on the stretch of selves that has different types of pads of different brands with different types. How does anyone manage to pick the best from all these options? He tried calling his wife again but the call beeps after ringing for a while. out of reach. He looked around totally clueless as he ran out of time. Luckily, one of the staff turned up asking questions. Questions like, "Does she goes to the bathroom a lot? Does she change her pants regularly? does she has trouble sleeping?"

And, how on earth Bachira could answer all of those? He does not know the answers to any of them, not that he is supposed to so he says that, very clearly, that he does not know because his daughter is having her first period and he is freaking out because her mom is not around her. . .So after the staff explains the benefits of various brands he picks the one that his wife uses. Phew! that was easy. why didn't he think of that earlier?

He calls his daughter letting her know that he is on his way home and if he should buy anything to eat since mom will be late today. "Ahhh... then I want some ramen, the one that we always eat," she responded before hanging up. She did not sound nervous but rather bubbly about it. Maybe the food lightened her mood. Bachira smiled since he was already standing in front of that Ramen shop where he used to take his missis once a month when they were still not married, when they were just seeing each other, when everything was so uncertain "She got her mother's spicy tongue." he texted to the number saved Y/N xoxo.

—

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER FOURTEEN: TRIPE

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, child abuse and more (check the tags)

Read after the cut

-

By some sense of duty, or else an undug tendril of guilt, Will volunteers himself to oversee your evening routine alone. You allow him this, being in scant possession of what slim tolerance has borne you through Hannibal’s accompaniment thus far.

Will proves himself to be far less involved than the other man would have been in his stead. He leans against a wall with the nonchalance of a prison warden as you shower blood and spend alike down the receiving drain, allows you to pad into your bedroom, towel-wrapped, to select a clean nightdress and sanitary products with his head turned nobly aside.

You cannot determine if his distance from you is through respect for your condition or some lasting dislike of you, neither of which holds entirely true.

More likely it is that he does not see you as his child, yet, nor quite with the equality of a lover.

Still, as you get into bed he cannot help but come to you, uncertain as he his of his purpose.

“Will you give me a goodnight kiss?” you ask, part in bitter jest, and part in annoyance with his indecision.

That a man can fuck and beat you in throes of black delight and still skulk about like a repentant sinner would have confounded you in the days before you became accustomed to such duality. To what end, and upon what strength the latter side subsists is now the greater puzzle, for it is this that drags its heels and restrains Will from his full devilry.

“Well?” you say, brusquely. “What are you waiting for? Dad’s permission?”

Will gives a hard laugh, one hand kneading the back of his neck.

“I admire your commitment to the part, but you don’t have to keep it up so seriously when it’s just you and me.”

“I promised I would,” you remind him. “Why can’t you? You had no issue kissing me in front of Hannibal. I don’t see why it’s a problem now.”

You see Will’s fingers go to the bridge of his nose, wanting the guard of the eyeglasses he’s neglected to wear.

“It’s not genuine,” he says, flatly. “The only reason you’re asking is to manipulate me.”

“So what?” you say. “Scared that it’ll work?”

“Not scared, no.”

“Sure you’re not.”

There is something hysterical in your tone, the cut string of a trapped and weary madness.

Will examines you, aware of the power play you’re attempting over him, intrigued by it, despite himself. Attracted, even.

His gaze is like a stone in the sun, all heat, all black, all blue.

He knows what revulsion you must push past to test him like this, still slightly high from the forced euphoria of fucking, and the drugs. You’re beyond consideration of the consequences, irrational, barely attached to the tongue and teeth that bite at the air in their ire.

Still Will hangs from your words like a pilgrim knelt before an oracle, dependent on your answer.

“Haven’t you had enough of me kissing you tonight?” he asks.

Sniffing, you turn to face his gargoyle shadow on the wall.

“So it’s a no. You’d make a really terrible father.”

“One...”

“Not my name.”

So Will says it, gently, and you roll back towards him, your heart quick and high behind a rail of bone with the thrill of his appeasement.

Your truce, the union of flesh: they’ve altered Will, for as he looks at you a second time his pupils are the chasms between worlds, wild and deep.

Kneeling up on the bed, you make a trellis of both hands through his curls and clutch him to you in an ungainly kiss. Will stumbles in the force of it, his arms spilling about your back so as not to fall upon you with all his weight.

You gasp against his lips with eagerness to take what he has taken, to fallow the rose flesh of his inner mouth, the lathe of your tongue churning. Will is too surprised to kiss you in return, but as you hitch one leg after the other upon his hips you feel the vine of him against your groin, wanting you again, as always.

You think of him fucking you now, pinning your wicked hands with the nail of his fist as he thrusts through a sheen of blood. Though you despise him still, your loins smart with interest in engineering the act rather than merely suffering it as ever before.

At last Will returns your kiss, but briefly, and with a knowing restraint before he lays you back upon the bed again.

You grasp at his face in an attempt to reclaim his lips. He pushes you lightly away.

“Hey,” he grins. “You made your point.”

“Oh?” you say, coolly. “And what is my point?”

“That I like kissing you. That I want to kiss you, whether Hannibal’s here or not.”

“Right,” you say, twisting a corner of your quilt around one finger for something to do with your hands. “But you never would have picked me. Like, if I was in one of your FBI classes. If I was your student. Would you even have noticed me?”

Will laughs again, with a startled unease, as though the notion is foreign to him.

“Starting affairs with students isn’t exactly my style. I turn up, I teach. That’s it. I don’t get personally involved. Or didn’t, till now. Letting people get close is... uncomfortable for me.”

He glances down at the bunch of quilt in your closed knuckles. Unlike the ever-tactile Dr Lecter, he makes no attempt to take it away.

“So how come you got so close to Hannibal?” you ask. “Didn’t you say you had reservations about him?”

“He saw me even when I was making an effort to turn away. He and I have commonalities I can’t ignore, and enough differences to keep me wondering who he really is. There’s a lot even I don’t know about him, and there are times I wonder what I’m doing letting him in.”

You’re on the verge of another question as Will steps sharply back from the bed.

“We can talk more tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll still be here in the morning. But if you want my thoughts about Hannibal then it’s only fair that you tell me a little about you in return. If this is going to work long-term I need to know who you are.”

Then he goes over to the light switch and closes you in behind a shutter of night.

*

 

You’re roused from the saccharine heat of your bedcovers the following morning by Will rapping on your bedroom door. His face appears in the crevice between it and the frame as though wary to trespass, the broken spell of your desperation in his eyes.

“It’s so early,” you whine, noting the bare line of sunlight beneath the curtains. “And I feel like death, thanks to you and Dad. Can’t I stay in bed?”

“Hannibal just rushed out to an emergency appointment,” says Will. “One of his patients is having some kind of crisis, so it’ll be just you and me for a while. You want coffee? I was about to make some.”

An apology, you think, something to alleviate the swaddled and perspiring misery of your comedown.

“Sure,” you say, weakly. “Black, please. Sweetener, if there is any. The low calorie version.”

Will’s brows rise.

“You think Hannibal keeps that around?”

Reflecting on the little paper sachets that had been favoured throughout high school you say, “Ha. I guess not.”

Within twenty minutes you’re sitting up against your pillows, one hand gripping a delicate, steaming cup, the other soothing your stomach through which bites the first monthly cramp.

Will takes a nearby chair, eyeing the bars on your window as though assuming your daily view through the glass.

Though you loathe him still in his unpredictable oddities, you’re keen to make closer yet the allyship you’ve struck up with him, watchful though he is of that very attempt. If he will not help you escape, then a friendship at least may fortify the sanity you fear will leave you in this quasi childhood.

Will doesn’t seek your regression quite as Hannibal does— a cantankerous teenager is as young as he perceives you, the sick girl that never grew up. This house, then, is a Neverland in reverse, a sumptuous den of brutal sex.

Closing your eyes against such thoughts, you take in your coffee, each dark mouthful a long-acquired taste. You remember forcing back cup after cup of it, trusting it over plain water in the belief that it would burn calories as you drank.

Suddenly you’re acutely nostalgic for the days spent in your childhood room, scrolling through online threads of ailing young women in a community of mutual suffering.

It occurs to you that you may never feel so entirely comprehended without judgement as you were there again. You understand Will rather more through the thought, his convergence with Hannibal a relief to so lonely a monster.

“Tell me about ‘Dad’,” you say, into the silence. “You said you would, last night. Like, who even is he? Where did he come from?”

Will blinks, stirred up from his own brooding thoughts. In the dreary daylight he has the face of a beautiful invalid, all its angles skirted in shade.

“Hannibal’s from Lithuania, originally,” he says. “He had a younger sister, Mischa. She died a long time ago. I don’t know the finer details of what happened to her. She’s the only family he’s ever talked about, and even then it’s been bare bones.”

You sit up straighter, envisioning a young girl with Hannibal’s eyes, and none of his appetite.

“Huh,” you say. “That makes a lot of sense.”

"Hannibal would disagree. He doesn’t put much stock in the past making him who he is.”

“Seems kind of a weird thing for a therapist to say. He’s always digging into mine.”

Will looks at the floor, as though distinguishing some new pattern from the grains in the carpet.

“Hannibal views himself as... separate from other people. Being that he acts outside of ethics and the law in his own profession, I’d guess that what’s between us isn’t his only secret.”

“I’ve tried to tell you,” you say, tapping your coffee cup with bitten fingertips for emphasis. “I’ve known this for so long. But since you’re going along with his games how can you even judge him for whatever horrible things he’s doing?”

“Without knowing what he has or hasn’t done,” says Will, slowly, “I can’t say that I do.”

He gets up from his seat and paces before the window, his hands gesticulating like pigeons frenzied into startled flight.

“You assume that what I’m trying to learn about Hannibal—the core of who he is—is something ugly. But that isn’t what I’m afraid of. It’s the possibility of him lying to me. I don’t know if I could forgive him for that after the bond we’ve made. After what he encouraged me start with you.”

“You shouldn’t trust him,” you say, urgently. “Don’t. You don’t need him.”

Scoffing, Will says, “Jack seems to think I do. Alana— she’s convinced I’m one nudge away from disappearing so far into a case that I kill someone without even knowing it. Hannibal's the only one that doesn’t think of me as broken.”

You consider informing him of his suspected encephalitis, that Hannibal surely withholds this truth and more so as to keep his favour.

In the end you retain your silence; better that Will discovers the manipulation alone and behold how he has been misled upon this trail of darkness.

“Enough about me,” says Will, abruptly. “I know that someone hurt you, long before Hannibal. Before me. Someone you've never forgotten.”

Alarmed by the twist in conversation, you stammer, “I— I already told him some of it. I said I didn’t remember. But I was lying about that. I just don’t know if it was only one, long night, or it happened other times. I don’t know which is worse.”

You pause, slightly breathless. Like a portent from the white lips of some phantom you know that you must tell Will the truth, adhere him to your weeping heart with empathy for you.

“I was just a little kid,” you say. “And he was an adult. Nearly family— I used to call him Uncle Lee. Hannibal probably told you that. Anyway, I got my ‘wrong’ feeling about him way before he did what he did. Like I knew it was coming. Then he came into my room alone one night and... it happened.”

You put down your coffee cup, almost knocking it from the bedside table with the shaking of your hand. Will comes away from the window at once, dragging his chair to your bedside to listen. He neither speaks nor looks into your eyes, aware that you can bear neither without faltering.

“He touched me,” you say, “and the whole time I couldn’t even face him. I don’t even remember what I felt. Maybe I didn’t feel anything at all. Just stared at the ceiling or whatever. He did stuff to me that changed me forever. I felt like a tiny old person in a kid’s body, after that, knowing about things I wasn’t supposed to know.

“And the worst of it was still having to see him after. My parents— I tried to tell them, but I couldn’t get the words out. They just thought I didn’t like him. So he came back to the house, now and then. Never saw any consequences.

“I’ve always wondered if I was the only one, or if there were others. He was a plumber, or something; he could have access to people’s daughters anytime he wanted. Just walk into their room and... you know. I think maybe he did do that, a couple of times. Who knows.”

Your restless fingers pick at the gold embroidery on your bedspread, working it loose from the velvet. One of Will’s hands folds over yours, gently holding them still.

“What I always think about is how he treated me, afterwards,” you say. “I tried avoiding him, but it didn’t always work. One day he cornered me at the top of the stairs— my parents were in the kitchen, so it was just me and him.

“I must have been maybe twelve or so. Not far off thirteen. My body was changing. I was growing up. He said, ‘you’re getting a little chubby, you know. You ought to do something about that before you look like your mother.’

“Then he smiled at me, and just walked into the bathroom like there was nothing wrong with what had just come out of his mouth, or what he’d done to me all those years ago.”

Inhaling an unsteady breath, you try, with dubious success, to smile.

“So now you get why I’m like this. And knowing it wasn’t my fault, that Leland Frost is just a predator... it doesn’t fix anything. Like, where do I go from there?”

“He injured you,” says Will, softly. “And it may never stop hurting. But you can recover. No matter what you believe, it is possible. His shallow cruelty is not your compass. You don’t have to live on the basis of an insult.”

Scowling, you pull away from Will, trapping your hands under your armpits.

“How can I change when I’m reliving what I went through every day? Why does Hannibal think this’ll heal me? Why do you? Oh, yeah. You don’t.”

“I want it to,” says Will.

You snort dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah. Not so long ago you would have punched the air to see the back of me. You don’t want to share Hannibal with anybody.”

Will leans back in his seat, arms folded; it takes a moment for you to register that he is, by some subconscious impulse, copying your posture.

“I’m not sharing Hannibal with you,” says Will. “I’m sharing you with him. And I want to do that. You knew it before I did.”

His gaze snaps to yours, more arresting than his hands on you had been.

“You’re more like me than I cared to admit. Hannibal was right about that. And though everything about you should repulse his sensibilities he finds you adorable. You clearly don’t appreciate it, but there it is.”

You yearn to deny him, to condemn this speech as sophistry, but you are silent, as much a congregant to him as he has been to you.

“Leland Frost tore you down because he saw that you were growing up and away from him,” says Will. “He knew that one day you’d have a life, and achievements, and people that really cared about you. He was going to fade out of your world, and he couldn’t stand not leaving a mark.”

“I just don’t get it,” you whisper. “He loved me. Why did he do it?”

Will shifts his chair even closer to the bed so as to lean into you, his expression tender, tragic, sombre with a father’s sympathy.

“Leland never loved you, and that’s no reflection on you or your worth. It makes him weak, that he could throw away the relationship he had with you over an urge.”

You don’t have the strength to rage against the whited sepulchre in Will, not when he speaks the truth you’ve always yearned to hear from another. Pain winds through your body, throat to gut, great, twisting pulses, as though eviscerated on a blade of past.

What advice would Will give for you to survive what he and Hannibal have done, and will do?

Nothing. Not a word. He knows that the structure of the home, even comfort from those that afflict you has changed you in so short a time. Your desperation to be gone from him he senses, too, and with it your lust to be loved.

Will holds your hand for a long time before he speaks again, on another subject quite as dreary as the last.

“When you said it’d been years since you...”

“Since I last had my period?” you ask, touching your stomach through the sheets. “Yeah. It has been.”

Your body, the betrayer, making a scarlet banner of your betterment through cruelty.

“I never wanted it to come back. Having it again means I’m not as sick anymore, and that’s like... messing up for me.”

Will's head tilts, his face carved up by the shadows thrown from your barred window into a lattice of snow.

“Failing to die is barely a failure at all,” he comments.

You shrug yourself further under your bedcovers.

“It is if what’s happening to you is something worse,”

“Is it always so bad, being here with us?”

Will’s hand rises. Doesn’t quite touch your face. You turn your head away, but not cruelly; he’s not a bad man, you decide, only contorted so utterly from the ways of his fellows that he is some creature other, or from before, the flint-armed hunter of the caves.

And like such a creature, he seeks your answering affection for want of some warmth in the dark beginning of the earth.

You allow him to kiss your forehead, clumsily, inclined towards him as though you were not both aware of the fiction that allows this contact.

He can only guess how far you’d run from this, had you your chance. How readily you’d betray him.

*

 

You’re much recovered by the time Dr Lecter returns, having been hydrated and energised by a selection of unnamed supplements Will had you take with lunch; there is a cure for every ailment in the makeshift laboratory of the kitchen, it seems.

Hannibal discovers you at your usual perch of the parlour couch, writing in your journal with a blanket tucked loosely around you against the October cool.

Will stands to greet his companion, setting aside a book you’d offered him from your shelf to peruse, its cover depicting the bloody half-brain of the sun on a desert horizon.

“I didn’t expect our charge to be in such high spirits,” says Hannibal, with unmasked surprise. “Thank you for caring for her this morning, Will. I’m aware that whatever time you can spare for us in the midst of an investigation is very precious.”

Likely aware of your eyes on him, Will says, “I’m glad I stayed. I appreciated the company. How’s the other patient?”

“Suitably quieted. I doubt that I’ll be called away again on her behalf. Still, I made the most of the journey home.”

Hannibal reaches into a shopping bag looped over one arm and produces from it a wrapped package of fresh meat, marbling the paper with blood.

Grimacing, you say, “Ew. What is that? Looks like an organ.”

“It is. I’ll be making trippa alla romana tonight. It’s an Italian dish made from cow stomach. Don’t turn your nose up till you’ve tried it. Have I served anything to you yet that you haven’t enjoyed?”

*

After dinner, all three of the household recline, full and talking lazily before the fire. Had your company been any other than your abusers you would almost be content, for having been allowed to leave the table after a valiant half plate you are not so guilt-soaked as you’d have been had you finished it all.

You had, in fact, disliked the meal, a first in Hannibal’s house. The thought of the organ, plucked from the rib of a butcher’s shelf, had struck bile to the back of your mouth from the first bite.

A cup of chocolate, warmed to a froth and unadorned with cream is set in your hands instead, which you drink in feline licks to make it last.

Will’s phone shrills abruptly in his pocket. Frowning, he glances at the lighted oblong of its screen and starts at a familiar name.

“It’s Jack,” he says. “I’d better take this.”

He promptly exits the room, speaking with clipped tones into the device.

Alone with Hannibal, you become acutely aware of him looking at you, not quite with suspicion, but not so far from that.

"I see that you and Will are becoming close,” he says, at last. “I’m glad to see it.”

Humming vaguely, you snatch up the journal again and weave your pen about in a pretence of writing.

Hannibal says, "Still, it saddens me that—for all your pretty words of promise—you display a lesser willingness to befriend me.”

You do not answer, pressing your pen so hard against a page that it blots through to the other side.

"Put your journal down a moment, Little One,” says Hannibal. “I’m speaking to you."

Without looking up, you answer, "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You needn't say anything at all. It's your behaviour I wish to change."

In a flounce of irritation you throw the journal upon the floor, its spine creasing.

“I do what you say, and I don't fight you anymore,” you say. “Isn't that daughterly enough?"

"For the purposes of your treatment,” says Hannibal, “it is not. You remain closed to me, parted only by narcotic aid. I'd prefer you to open to me of your own volition. With Will, you prove yourself increasingly capable of that.

“I’ve given you all you’ve asked for, and more, and yet you show little gratitude. I wouldn’t wish to remove these luxuries for you to appreciate my endeavours.”

You look at him, then, this man both jealous and performing jealousy to groom you into his concubine, and in looking see that he will deconstruct your room into the barest cell, should he not have his way.

"I do appreciate what you’ve given me," you hastily protest. "I do, Daddy. You don’t have to take anything away. But I— I just don’t know you the way I know Will.”

“But you do,” says Hannibal, rising to sit beside you, a dangerous proximity. “That’s why you are so afraid of me, is it not?”

You begin to object, trailing off at the sound of approaching footfalls as the younger of your captors returns, listing in the churning swell of stress.

“It's the investigation,” says Will. “Another doll’s been found. Savannah Belmont. It’s too soon to be the Lover’s kill. He has a cool off point between each abduction.”

Hannibal straightens in his seat, rapidly alert.

“A copycat, then.”

Will nods, his throat tightening. His eyes touch your face briefly, and you offer him a small, close-lipped smile, an extension of comfort from across the room. His shoulders drop from their rigid line, and when he speaks again the frantic note in his voice is tempered slightly.

“Definitely a copycat,” he says. “The Lover disposes of the dolls by throwing them into rivers like garbage. No attempt to lay them to rest. Savannah was put on display, placed in a chair on a dirt bank as though she was waiting to be found.

“Both killers meant to degrade their victims, but only the copycat’s is implied to understand and accept that humiliation. Savannah Belmont died aware of her inferiority in the eyes of her murderer.”

You find yourself sitting on your hands to prevent them from betraying your agitation with their unsteadiness. Your leg, however, you cannot control, the right foot gyring an inch above the floor.

Hannibal eyes it without speaking, folding your reaction into the lengthy tome of his mind.

“The victim’s stomach was missing,” says Will, turning to pluck a bottle of whiskey from a nearby cabinet like some bronze fruit. “That’s new. The Lover’s mutilations are all with the purpose of fitting the bodies of his victims inside their silicone casings. He has no surgical skills.

“This new killer obviously has expertise. Savannah’s stomach was cut precisely from her body with the clear intent of taking it as a trophy.”

“Her stomach?” you repeat.

You feel the heaviness of meat within you and are chilled by the coincidence.

Hannibal could not have known what the copycat would take to reference it, could not have known of his existence to begin with, and yet as you glance at him under your lashes you don’t quite trust the seriousness of his expression, his eyes gleaming dimly as tarmac in the rain.

“You mustn’t worry, Little One,” says Hannibal, turning to lift you up onto his lap. “The Lover can’t hurt you. We will protect you, always.”

He settles your head against his chest, which resounds with the slow beat of his heart and the machinery of organs digesting his own rich meal.

The monster knows of your renewed distrust and is unthreatened by it, declawed and tooth-filed as you are by his influence over you and all the passageways of the world you’d otherwise cross in your escape.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Daddy,” you mutter, against his shirt, and the warmth of Hannibal’s palm cups your buttocks with a tormenting friction, both threat and tease at once.

While you hate him—are in terror of him, always—your form is increasingly enamoured by his touch as though it knows that it must be so, or die.

“No need to thank me for performing my duty to you, Little One,” says Hannibal, into your ear. “For you belong to me, and to Will, and you must never forget it.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to clean my house's bathroom bin?

Sorry, this is a bit gross.

I (22M) am a trans man living in a house full of cis men, none of whom I know particularly well. Recently, one of them (20sM) has gotten up in arms about cleaning, which, in theory, I'm in favour of, since the house is disgusting. However.

He assigned me to clean a bathroom he uses a lot. When we were talking about cleaning at first, I commented on the fact that the room's bin is always full of wet wipes covered in shit. He claims that this is how he cleans his ass. I don't comment on how gross this is because I don't want to start conflict.

Fast forward two weeks, he starts literally shouting at me every time I'm in the room to clean that bathroom. I go no I don't want to empty the bin full of YOUR shit covered wet wipes. He claims I'm just as gross because there's a couple of sanitary pads in there, and that I should deal with my period stuff in my room. I'm already weird about my period because I'm trans and I would rather die than discuss it with this guy. But I don't feel safe arguing with him because, again, house full of cis guys.

So, AITA for standing my ground and not literally cleaning up his shit?

What are these acronyms?

[plush-rabbit]

The Spot Headcanons

Request: I have no idea if you take requests or anything but like ... spot with an s/o who chews on him. Nothing nsfw or suggestive or anything. I think they'd just wanna chew on him like . Some kind of stick. (Btw i 💞💞💞 ur writing so BADDDDD)

A/N: I did a quick glance and I thought you were calling my writing bad and im like, then why are you hereಥ_ಥ (there’s a quick mention about sex, but its not like graphic)

-

In all his time that he’s known you, he’s always known that you had some oral fixation. There were times that you tried to hide it from Johnathan, but it was never successful. You’d chew on popsicle sticks until they were splintered and frayed, you bite on toothpicks until you’d spit out the thin lines of wood, and only once you grew comfortable around him, you’d bite on your knuckles. If he were to be honest, he was worried you’d break your skin, so he started to carry bandages in his pocket.

However, you never broke skin. You’d chew lightly, your teeth marks dented into your skin, over your knuckles and on the webbed part of your hand, chewed on the side of your finger. Further into the relationship, you start to chew without trying to hide it from him. He’d watch as you bite on a popsicle stick, bitten between your molars and grinded until it pared in the middle, and you’d hold his hand. You’d massage it, your jaw tight as you press into his palm and squeeze onto his fingers. With wood acting as a poor replacement for flesh, you’d satisfy your desire by holding his hand.

Splinters are on your tongue and drool lays a pool into your mouth as you focus on his hands and wrists, running the pad of your index finger over his veins, pinching over the flesh of his knuckles and the meaty part of his palm. It’s obvious to anyone watching that you want to bite him, but are too afraid to ask. He has his own quirks that you’ve satisfied without complaint, and he’s sure that he’s made it clear that you can ask him anything, and yet, you don’t. Your tongue is splintered, and his hand is massaged, and he lays on your chest. A part of him wonders if his flesh is not to your desire, if his fingers are too calloused for your liking. He can only hold his breath when you kiss his palm. Your breath is warm, and your lips are soft, you hold him gently, running your lips from the center, up towards a finger, and he hopes that you bite him, that you mark him and dent his skin with your canines.

Of course, he has tried to get you sensory toys due to not wanting you to get splinters on your tongue, they never worked the same. The toys would work for a while, and it was apparent that you tried to enjoy them, grinding your teeth into them, and trying to tear it apart, but he could tell that you’d only grow frustrated. As you would chew and chew,  by the end of it, spit had coated the toy and dripped onto your hand. It wasn’t the most sanitary, especially when you made it a point to try to tear apart the toy, and it would lay wrapped clean in a napkin until the next use. It was fairly common that you would end up losing them, and by the time you found them, no amount of soap and water had deemed the toys clean. 

The only time that you’d actually bruise his skin is when the two of you are intimate. You’d bite his shoulder, sink your teeth in and pull him closer when he hisses at the contact. He had no idea someone could bite so gentle and harsh at the same time. You lap at the wound, kissing it, pressing your lips softly as if to ease the sting. And again, you bite, scratching at his back, knitting your hands into his hair, and breathing heavily. When he stares at himself in the mirror, he lets his hands linger when your teeth have tattooed themselves. His fingertips ghost over the inflamed skin, and he swears that he can feel the dentations, and the skin burns, and he can’t stop tracing where you’ve kissed him.

If you won’t bite him unless there’s intimacy involved, then he’ll make it known that it’s okay to chew on him. He’d cover your mouth with his hand, his index over your mouth, and the rest of his hand cradling your chin. He’d feel your heated breaths pant over his index, and he’d stare into your eyes, the void of the black hole that is him staring into your shining eyes reflecting his image. Neither of you dare to break eye contact for a moment- he wants to see if you’d actually bite him. You’re the one to break eye contact, your eyes darting down to his finger, and back to him and he nods, unable to breathe as he can feel the skin of your teeth drag over the side of his finger and feel the thin of it bite down. His breath catches in his throat, and his spots widen and contract as the feeling of your teeth squeezing down.

You smile with your teeth bared, and he realizes just how much he wants you to bite him. He wants you to etch yourself onto his skin, to know that you find him worthy of being torn and mawed by you. You comment on the different texture that he has compared to you. How he feels different, and when insecurity makes him anxious, you ask if it’s really okay for you to bite him. And when he tells you yes, you hold onto his arm, your breath soft and fanning over him as you bite and bite, pressing a kiss over each mark.

If he’s not in close proximity towards you- which is rare- he will use a spot to put his hand through, letting you bite onto him. It’s almost frightening how addicted he became to you biting him, how he likes the feeling of your maw threatening to tear and rip his flesh. In the soft kisses that follow, where you flutter your lips over his hand and arm, and over his neck and shoulder, you tell him thank you, and your hands have gone untouched, splinters no longer poke your tongue.

In return for letting you bite him, he likes to rest his head on your chest and feel you scratch his back. He’ll always tell you that there’s no need to repay him- he enjoys your biting habits as much as you do- but he can’t complain when he’s allowed to just rest on you. He’ll put his full weight on you, and stretch over you, humming when your nails pull down on his back, and nearly asleep by the time your hand has cramped. He’ll nuzzle further into your chest when you scratch at the top of his head, letting out a noise of content.

 What will and his spots and the chewing that you allow, you’ve started to try different nicknames. Johnathan and any variations of it were always welcomed and when you called him Spot, you always said it so lovingly that it never struck the kind of intimidation that he was going for. At one point, you tried calling him “Swiss”- “like swiss cheese, ‘cause you’re so holey and chewy,” you joked. He still doesn't know how he feels about the nickname, but the more you called him that despite the obvious grumbling, the more he became almost fond of it. He isn’t sure how much he likes being compared to a piece of food, but you always smile at the name, and he can’t ruin your smile. 

[thoughtsforsoob]

their s/o is a teacher! - nct dream

a/n: lmao ig im just gonna have to ignore that hate ive been getting! I'm gonna write for nct dream this time because for some reasons some MOA's are not being very kind towards my work. That is not an attack towards MOA because I am one of the biggest MOA's I know...it's jut not fair that some of the people I should be cool with are being so incredibly rude...over and over. anyways, that is all from me on that. please enjoy! as always, requests are open!

(I'm gonna add a cut off here so if you don't wanna read, you don't have to)

☆ mark lee ☆

he thinks it's so cute, especially if you teach little ones (kindergarten/1st grade)

he loves asking you about your classroom and how your work is going

he even helps you grade students assignments and he loves seeing what they say on their assignments

he also likes seeing their art work

he meets your students when you have a classroom part and he helps you set up

they immediately start to ask 100 questions, like kids do, ad he is totally okay with it.

he enthusiastically answers all their questions and they love him

they always ask for him every day after that

☆ huang renjun ☆

renjun thinks it's funny if you teach middle school

he is too good at listening to what happened during your day

he laughs at all the stories of students running around and causing chaos

he love's looking at the assignments you give them and tries to do them himself

he whines when he can't get something right and whines even more when you tell him you students got 100% on that question

☆ lee jeno ☆

he's one that thinks you teaching the older ones is cool

you're actually a college professor so he think's that's WAY cooler

he enjoys hearing you talk about the subject you teach and love's to hear you talk about your students and the assignments you gave them

when you offer to give him a your of the campus you work at, he is jumping at the chance

he even buys gear from the university you work at and wears it all the time (the letterman style jacket you got him is his favorite! he wear's it often and even wore it during a soundcheck of one of nct dream's concerts).

you bump into a few students and say hello, introducing jeno as your boyfriend

☆ na jaemin ☆

you teach kindergartners and he adores it

you helps you set up the different bulletin boards in your classroom and helps you organize/set up everything else

he loves to ask you about your lesson plans and you always ask him for ideas for activities and he helps you every time

he really want's to meet the little ones so after the year is done and they are graduating, he attends the event

they ask you, "teacher, who is that handsome man you were with? is that your boyfriend?"

they all giggle and go "ooooo!" and you tell them yes, that's him!

they run to meet him after the ceremony

☆ lee haechan ☆

he would probably find it interesting if you teach high schoolers

since the first time you told him about all your students, he always asks about them and want's you to update them about how they're doing

his favorite thing to do for your students is to send them stuff!

he gives you money so you can buy them snacks for your classroom (and other supplies! my teachers in high school always had sanitary pads, tampons, snacks, and other stuff in them in case students needed them)

he wants to help you make sure your students feel safe in their classroom

he also funds the senior pizza party at the end of the year and even makes an appearance!

☆ zhong chenle ☆

I believe Chenle is also good with little ones since he's always posting with his family (especially his, I believe, little nephew)

he love's helping you choose coloring pages for your students to do when they're done with their minute math sheets (the stress it causes is always rewarded with coloring time!)

he also likes to buy nice supplies for you students

you tell hi not to do it, because kids love to break things and lose them, but he doesn't listen

he love's going supply shopping (he get's all the brand names like Crayola :0)

he also helps grade assignments!

☆ park jisung ☆

you teach middle school and he loves it

he loves hearing the stories of your students acting out during class because it makes him giggle

just give him a glare and he will stop laughing at your misfortune

he helps you grade their papers

sighs every time he get's a that says 'idk'

it's all fun and games until get's those papers...then he wants to flip the kitchen table other and help you quit your job

because he knows how much they stress you out, he's always making sure you're distressing at home.

fetching you a warm cup of coffee/tea, making/buying dinner, giving you massages, helping you with other class stuff.

[atinylittlepain]

Make It Better - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

Joel Miller masterlist

Menstruating in the midst of the apocalypse isn’t exactly a breeze. While Joel can be a real guy about her period, he's always up for helping ease her pain, in whatever way he can.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, period sex, enough said

a/n | this is entirely inspired by a post I saw today from @psychedelic-ink in search of some good, sweet period fics about Mr. Miller. Voila, folks.

Men have it so much easier in the apocalypse. This was a thought that had occurred to her monthly for the last twenty years. Everytime her period came, she found herself woefully unprepared. You would think that FEDRA would start mass producing pads or something, but obviously there were no women amongst the higher ups, because no such relief had ever come. She had figured out a number of tricks over the years, slicing up the military-issued socks to make reusable pads, keeping an eye out for old tampax boxes on runs with Joel. He’d always get flustered when she’d wave a lucky, smuggled box in his face, muttering something about not needing to know about that while she just grinned from ear to ear with the knowledge that she’d be set for the next month. She and Tess would give him endless shit for it, trying to outdo each other in making him blush amidst all their womanly talk. 

She missed Tess endlessly, but had quickly drawn Ellie into the challenge of freaking Joel out with talk of the very normal, very human thing that was menstruation. He at least tried to be a gentleman about it, while still being a total guy about it too, asking her if she was feeling ok when he knew hers was coming up, but also sometimes pulling the “you on the rag?” card when she was being particularly short with him. 

When they got to Jackson, and Maria hooked both her and Ellie up with diva cups, it had been a game changer. No more makeshift pads, no more scrounging for expired tampons. Finally, some damn relief from the conundrum that was menstruating during the end of the world. Since they had settled into the community, however, and her and Joel had been sharing a bit more than just each other’s platonic company, Joel’s seeming unease around the topic of her monthlies hadn’t really dissipated. 

He had actually jumped in shock when she showed him how the diva cup worked one night in their shared bathroom, a twisted look of horror on his features as she folded up the plastic contraption before letting it snap back into form. His words came out as an incredulous gasp when he finally spoke.

“You’re telling me that goes inside you, like that?” She had to bite back a laugh at his reaction. 

“Pretty sure I’ve had far more inside me very recently, Joel.” A brutal flush crept across his neck and face at that, leaving him a stammering mess as he quickly stumbled out of the bathroom. It was just too easy.

Another time, Joel had come home from a patrol shift to find her in the kitchen, boiling the diva cup to sanitize it before the next time. He had sweetly come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and murmuring into her neck, asking what was for dinner. Then he got a good look at what was in the pot. That time, he had let out a yelp, tripping back on his feet and looking at her like she had grown a second head.

“Godammnit, woman. What the hell are you doing?” She had fixed him with a look, huffing at his big man-baby antics.

“Joel, I have to clean it somehow.” His eyes were wide, a terror-stricken look on his face.

“Not in the pans we eat out of though!” He didn’t seem convinced by her cajoling that it was perfectly sanitary and after that night, she never saw that pot again.

One thing they could agree on about all this, however, was period sex. First and foremost, Joel liked to feel needed, like he could give something to her, so it took little convincing to get him between her legs under the guise of helping ease her cramps. He hardly cared about the blood, and she thought he also didn’t mind how sensitive she got during that time of the month either. His only stipulation? That the diva cup came out before he got anywhere near her. 

As usual, her period had started the night before, always the middle of the month. She and Joel had been together for so long at this point that he could clock it pretty well, the next morning looking in the bathroom cabinet in the spot where she normally kept her diva cup before turning to look at her skeptically, his face still groggy with sleep. She had smirked at him around her toothbrush before wiping her mouth and fully looking at him.

“Yes, Joel? Do you have a question?” His brows shot up his forehead before settling back into a furrow, he cleared his throat.

“Is it um, is it–” She quirked a brow at his stumbling. He finally spit it out though.

“Is it– in there?” She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out at his bashful look.

“You ask me the same thing every month and I give you the same answer every month. Yes, it’s in there.” His brow stayed furrowed as he rubbed the back of his neck, finally letting out a gruff hum before shuffling back into the bedroom. Some things never change. Why a man who had literally killed people with his bare hands couldn’t seem to get over the fact that she had a functioning uterus was beyond her, but damn, was it fun to watch him squirm.

She got home before him that night, having taken an earlier patrol shift. While she was certainly tough, having been out on the road for such a long time, she still got worn down by the requisite cramps that came every month and was currently in a world of hurt. She had once told Ellie that she’d trade all her non-essential organs for a bottle of midol. 

While not quite the same as painkillers, Maria had gifted her a bottle of peppermint oil for her cramps. Some of the women had been harvesting the wild plants and were beginning to distill them down for their medicinal properties, and apparently peppermint worked particularly well for pain. She took off her shirt and bra, not bothering to shuck off her pants before laying across their bed and rubbing some of the oil into her stomach, sighing at the instant relief that the cooling sensation brought. She let her eyes drift shut, enjoying the light tingling of the oil on her skin as well as the fresh scent of the peppermint, but was soon interrupted by the sound of heavy boots approaching the bedroom.

“Are you in– oh.” She cracked one eye open, taking in the sight of Joel standing over the bed, seemingly slack-jawed as he looked down at her. She couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Why does it smell like toothpaste in here?” She huffed at that, sitting up and handing him the bottle of peppermint oil.

“It’s for cramps, from Maria.” He looked at her then, and she was starting to feel warm at the way his gaze was wandering over her half-naked figure.

“You hurting?” She just shrugged, sighing as he stepped closer to let his fingertips skate along her collarbone. He leaned down to drop a kiss to her lips that she chased after to deepen, finally pulling away once they were both good and gasping for breath. Joel pressed his forehead to hers, his voice coming out hoarse.

“Can I help?” She grinned, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck and drawing her lips to his ear in a way that made him shudder.

“You sure can. But you better let me get up first. It’s still in there.” He was off her in a flash, hands up like he was surrendering to the period police. She couldn’t help the wicked laugh that came out as she jogged over to the bathroom to get fully undressed. She could hear him mumble after her retreating figure “fucking menace.”

Diva cup out, and towel in hand, she came back into the bedroom to find him shirtless, toeing off his boots and socks on the end of the bed. He paused in his movements when she stepped before him, completely bare. His face went totally slack as he took in the sight of her. Never gets old. He snapped himself out of it, swallowing thickly before looking up to her gaze.

“Lay yourself out for me, darlin.” His southern drawl was already getting slow and thick in a way that made her thighs clench. She did as he asked, laying down the towel before settling her hips over it and laying back against the pillows. He stood at the end of the bed, not taking his eyes off her as he peeled off his jeans. 

She had dipped one hand down to draw lazy strokes across her clit, already impossibly sensitive as his eyes bore down on her. She couldn’t help the whimper that ran through her throat when he slid his boxers off, his cock already hard as he crawled up onto the bed between her legs. Hovering over her, he rested one of his elbows by her temple as they met in an entirely sloppy kiss. They were both stubborn and it showed in the harsh tangle of tongues and scraping of teeth. He pulled away just for a moment to look down as his fingers dipped into her folds, drawing a long sweep up to her clit. She preened into his touch, hips already bucking up into his hand as he started to swirl his fingers around her clit.

“So worked up for me already, huh, pretty? Just need me to make you feel good, s’that it?” His voice was a low purr in her ear as he dipped his fingers down to her entrance. She whined as he started to thrust into her, his palm grinding against her clit in messy circles. 

“F-fuck, yes. Make me feel good, Joel. Wanna be good for you.” He dragged his lips up the arch of her neck, his murmurs sending vibrations through the tender skin.

“Always so good for me, darlin. Want you to come on my fingers, can you do that?” She was already embarrassingly close, clenching around his fingers with each thrust of his hand. All she could do was nod and bite back the shivering moans that were crawling up her throat. Joel dipped his head down to her chest, taking one of her peaked nipples into his hot mouth and she yelped out a broken curse at the feeling. There was a lewd pop when he pulled off her, resting his chin between the valley of her breasts as he watched her teeter over the edge of pleasure.

“Come for me, darlin. Show me how good it feels. Just let go.” The pleasure snapped in a jagged blur as she clamped down around his fingers, her hips jerking up into his hold. He worked her through it until she was starting to squirm in his hand, finally pulling his fingers away and wiping them off on the towel beneath her. 

She pulled him in by his neck for another kiss, her other hand sweeping down between them to palm at his throbbing hardness. He hissed into her mouth as her thumb swiped over his tip, smearing pre-cum down the length of him before lining him up with her entrance. 

“Want you, Joel. Wanna feel you, please.” He groaned into her neck before pressing his hips forward, both of them letting out broken sighs when his hips settled flush with hers. She drew one leg up, her knee hitching at his waist as he rolled his hips back before thrusting into her in one harsh stroke, quickly finding a pace that had her gasping out his name. 

“S’right, pretty. Keep saying my name– fuck– s’me who’s making you feel so good, huh?” She let out a whimpered “yes” to his question, her nails finding purchase in the tense muscles of his back. The pleasure was already starting to pool sure and heady at the base of her spine, her cunt fluttering around his thick length with each thrust. Joel seemed to notice, bringing his hand down between them to draw heavy sweeps across her clit. Her hips bucked at the sensation, a clipped cry bubbling from her throat. Joel’s eyes were fierce as he watched her crumpled expression of pleasure.

“Think you got one more for me, darlin. Be good for me. Come for me– fuck– need to feel you.” With a cry of his name she fell over the edge of pleasure again, spasming around his dick as he fucked her through the simmering throb. He wasn’t far behind, pulling out only to stroke himself a few times before he was releasing over her stomach. 

He hunched over her, his breath smearing across her collarbones as she lightly dragged her nails up and down his back, both of them trying to calm their racing pulses. Joel finally looked up at her, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth that drew a grin from her.

“That feel better, darlin?” 

“Much better, but we really need a shower now.”

They showered together, and it was sweet, all tender touches and soft smiles. But she couldn’t help herself when they got out, wrapping her towel around her body and grabbing the diva cup, waving it in Joel’s face. 

“You wanna see how it’s done, Miller?” He visibly blanched at her words, already shuffling out of the bathroom as he muttered a few words.

“Nope. No, ma’am.”

[after-witch]

Imagine if Feitan and Chrollo kidnapped Darling and she got her period in captivity and Darling had a hard time asking to buy sanitary pads for her (I would literally never ask a man for something like that). She wouldn't sleep on the bed or sit on the couch for fear of contaminating the bed/couch with blood. (It's an embarrassing situation for me)

Sometimes I suffer from depression during my menstrual cycle

It'd be the woooooorst with Feitan and Chrollo together overall, but on your period? Nope, no thanks. Chrollo would be happily analyzing your behavior and wondering how he can use it to his advantage while Feitan gets irritated that you're acting out of sorts, but he's also intrigued, he's just more grumpy about it.

Also get out of my head, I just started jotting down notes for a Feitan period fic and the beginning is reader piling a bunch of towels from the bathroom on their bed because they're too afraid to ask for period supplies and Feitan is like ????????

Same re: depression, my hormones swing a lot while I'm on my period, it can get really frustrating. the first day is always the worst for me, pain and emotion wise. I just get so randomly mad, then really sad, etc.

I'm going to go take a nap in a minute to hopefully stave off the worst.

take care!

[skylarinfinity]

[avengers having their monthly meeting]

steve : we always open for new ideas-

male reader : we should make a merch-

bruce : [shaking his head] we a team of heroes, not a team of celebrities.

male reader : no hear me out first, we make a merch that actually help people's!

steve : [interesting with male reader ideas] what your first example?

male reader : [point at pietro and wanda] we put their face on sanitary pads products than call it maximoff maxipads and the tagline is “for when you didn't see it coming”.

tony : [laughing his arse off] oh god i love this idea!

wanda and pietro : what the fuc-

tags lists @sonicqaulan @graysonfriggason @thebettermaximofftwins @sloanalistair @acienthazard @starlinggoldeneyes @ortegaolsen @wednesdaywanda @sandwichmarvel @gardenofmarvel @wanda-cabin-natasha-jacket @panandinpain0 @badblondebisexualboy