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chaoticgeminate · 2 years

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Kinktober 2022 - Day Twenty Six

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (If that was not entirely clear)

Series Summary: You’re a fanfiction writer turned novelist, which was great since it was the path you wanted your writing to take you down in life. What you never thought would happen was meeting the Javier Gutierrez, who you actively write smutty fanfiction about from his film with Nic Cage, and you especially didn’t expect him to have a crush on you.

Fast forward several months of dating, with a good chunk of your relationship being distance due to his constant traveling and having to go home to Mallorca, when he surprises you with a prompt list and a vacation planned around exploring it.

You haven’t even worked up the nerve to tell him about what you write and post to Tumblr about him as a character yet.

Notes: Going to be using prompts from @the-purity-pen for my meta as hell indulgence! There are feelings in this (I have no idea how they got there) and I may end up removing some possible chapters here and there depending on how I’m feeling, I apologize in advance if that happens because my brain is super mean sometimes.

Possible Warnings: Wax Play, Dom!Javi, fluff that might make your teeth rot out, HCK returns (healthy communication kink)

Wax Play (1.8k)

Eduardo had laughed and then been very curious when you and Javi delivered a glowing review of his experiment, the man had been very happy that you’d been willing to answer his questions and even offered -once you were in Spain- to have you stop by his facility for a full medical run up by his team. He had trialed it with others and you were among the few couples to have a much more noticeable reaction to the oil, it was a matter of finding out the common factor be it genetic disposition or if it was something else.

Like the research loving fiend you were it was with great glee that you recorded the factors of your night that you could recall and gather easiest, like what brand and model diffuser Javi had and how far from the bed it was, you wouldn’t have exact time stamps but at the very least you had that.

But today Javi was making you take it easy, calling Lorna to make breakfast and treating you to an at home couple’s spa day, his masseuse and her business partner came and the pair of you spent most of the day being pampered. You even got a mani-pedi with him, though you hadn’t gotten any colored polish because you preferred to do it yourself, and as the two of you sat in the hot tub together Javi just held you close with his face buried in the spot between your neck and shoulder.

“For tomorrow, Solecita, I request that you don’t tickle me.”

Sensory deprivation was something you were eager for, mostly because Javi requested to be on the receiving end, the idea that he wanted you to have your way with him was appealing basically on all levels. His trust in you was probably the most valuable thing you had, if you were being honest, and you tipped your head to the side with a low hum.

“Only if I get to pinch your butt. Just once.”

“I do not understand the fascination, however I will try not to squirm when you do.”

“You have such a cute little butt, Javi!”

He snorted and chuckled at your remark, one of your favorite things to do with Joaquin in any fanfic was give him a girl that loved his ‘sheet cake’ booty. When he’d asked where that came from you had to very vaguely mention that you had other author friends and it was a common discussion point, that he had cake but it was a sheet cake instead of a layer cake.

You couldn’t help but squirm when Javi’s hands lifted to cup your breasts, which he’d shamelessly admitted he loved playing with, and you found yourself giggling as he just held your boobs like he was trying to be a bra. It wasn’t remotely sexual, the way he just held them, and you idly traced patterns on the skin just above his knee caps while reclined against him.

It was just peaceful, so much so that you drifted off and ended up napping for a few minutes, so Javi urged you awake to help you out of the water and slide your robe onto you after drying you off; you laid back on the bed sideways quite dramatically when you got up to the bedroom, opening your mouth when Javi pressed a grape against your lips, and he leaned down from his side of the bed to give you an upside down spiderman style kiss before promising to be right back.

“I bought soy candles; they are said to be the mildest and best for beginners.” Javi’s voice was soft and you sat up as he walked back into the room with the rather fancy box, the candles inside had designs carved into the wax body and looked rather beautiful too, but the slight tension in his shoulders made you sit up on the bed to face him as Javi set the candles down on the table. The other thing he set down was a bottle of a gentle massage oil and a bottle of aloe gel, setting the aloe into a small ice bucket that you knew was supposed to be for drinks.

“How high are you going to hold the candle?” Watching him so skillfully flip a zippo lighter open, igniting the first candle, you felt your throat catch at how easy he handled and flicked the lighter open and closed. The wide candle looked small compared to the size of his hand and you blinked when he turned his head to look at you, that intense look only slightly hidden under the bright concern in his eyes.

“With you laying down I will stand, likely the height of my head.” That would give a few feet of a drop for the wax to cool before it hit your skin and help prevent the risk of being burned, and then you noticed that the grooves in the candle seemed super intentional. Javi noticed you were looking at the candle and brought it over, letting you see that the wax wasn’t gathering at the top because the candle itself was shaped and carved to make the wax actually drip down through the shaft before it would spill out or down the sides.

Javi smiled when you captured his cheeks and kissed him, the sheer caution and concern was something you could never thank him enough for, and then he brought the oil and aloe closer too while the rest of the candles stayed on the table. The one he’d lit was random colors of wax like a tie-dye, it looked beautiful, and he urged you to lay on your stomach after getting a cloth to lay under you so that wax didn’t get on the bed.

You shivered when the first dribble of oil touched your skin, room temperature thankfully, and propped your head on your arms as Javi began rubbing the oil into your skin; across your shoulders and down the curve of your back, fanning out to cover each ass cheek almost reverently in how slow he was stroking, and down your thighs all the way to your knees.

“Spread your legs for me.” His hands coated your inner thighs carefully, making you whine when he pressed against your folds with the outside of his hands in what was definitely a tease, and then he was stepping back to wipe and clean his hands of excess oil.

“Are you ready, bebita?” You reached one arm out to take his hand, seeing it shaking a little, and turned your head so you could see him.

“Remember, you can tap out too.” He nodded and you just watched him before Javi gently tipped the candle with a soft warning, the first touch of heat on your skin was a curious sensation, and you did tense up but the slight pain was nearly unnoticeable. It was almost like being splashed with water from a hot tub. Javi waited for a second, clearly gauging your response, and then breathed softly through his nose before you felt the long dribble of wax that started between your shoulder blades and slid down your back and sides.

This time the stream of liquid heat did make you exhale and shudder, you felt Javi’s inhale as he waited, but the chills that went down your arms weren’t because it hurt in a bad way. When you met his gaze over your shoulder you couldn’t help but pout, loving and hating how careful he was being with you, and you kind of wanted to push him a little more. Not in a malicious way but to give him a chance to let go, you could see that he liked something about this by how hard he was already.

But since this was still so new to both of you it could end up bad if you pushed him, he might pull away worse if you weren’t careful.

“I’m okay, more?”

His eyes traced down your back before returning to your face, nodding as he tipped the candle again, and this time you felt him craw a careful circle of wax dots closer to your lower back; the sensation made you whine, it was almost like having someone very lightly run their heated fingertips along your skin.

This time he didn’t check in, which was fine, he trailed that candle down over your thighs carefully closer to the outside, and the more sensitive skin proved to be a much more stimulating sensation for you; it made you moan softly, the slight sting of pain that was gone in an instant, and Javi began to get braver.

A strip of wax traced across your thighs closer to your knees.

Moderate length line curving down you’re the curve of your ass and gliding toward the front of your hip, and the bravest yet was the concentrated dots just shy of your inner thigh. Dribbling along the skin after it began to build up layers and making you keen from the sensation.

While you knew you didn’t mind some level of pain in the bedroom you hadn’t expected to get so turned on by this, the fact that Javi was in total control of what happened next and that he was indulging your request at all reminding you just how much he wanted to take care of you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt him trace your folds before he was humming like he didn’t notice just how wet his fingers were getting.

“Tell me, Bebita, what about this has you so turned on?”

He continued to play with the slick between your legs, making you shiver at the sensation, and your heart jumped in your chest when he barely touched your clit and you clenched around nothing; already so close.

“S’ the lack of control, that you want to take care of what I want, but it’s also the right amount of pain.”

“You do like it to hurt.”

That wasn’t a question but you answered like it was anyway.

“Yes sir.”

He hummed again and you didn’t know what he was thinking, you whined louder when he pulled his hand away, but another dribble of wax silenced you; it was hotter, dropped from a lower distance no doubt, and when your back bowed in response with a breathy exhale Javi chuckled darkly.

“I’m going to take my time with this and then I’m going to devour you, bebita.”

“Do your worse.”

You couldn’t help the challenge, the fight, in wanting him to let go more. You loved that he was trusting you with so much more of his darker side. You wanted it all.

“Oh, my beautiful girl, don’t start to get bratty with me now.”

“Who’s going to stop me, you?”

You looked up at him and felt your face warm and your muscles lock down, his expression was so smug but also so… well it screamed brat tamer vibes.

“Someone’s being a bad girl, let’s see if we can’t turn that attitude around.”

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @AynsleyWalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

Kinktober Only: @nicolethered @katareyoudrilling

#kinktober 2022 #javi g x f!reader #javi gutierrez x f!reader #cw smut lite #cw wax play #chaoticwrites #the HCK is strong this chapter

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tempestgnostic · 9 months

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one of these days i’ll make an actual kinlist i suppose? a few are hard to pin down, so generalizations work for those, while a couple are a particular species. so for example, the most prominent would be “The Werewolf” as a creature and its many iterations. pretty broad, right? think of it this way: the snarling, howling beast that sheds its humanity and becomes one with the wild? that’s me. the werewolf who’s basically just a big dog in terms of behavior, who would kill to lay in your lap and receive pets? that’s also me. i’m the church grim that guides and protects the dead by night, and the priest who leads and comforts the living by day. i’m the king of the werewolves, whose wisdom flows so sweet, whose honeyed words can drop you into a trance if you let them, and at once the humbled royal, who learned old folk magic from the wild things and preserves its rituals and remedies, who is a loyal servant of the forest, the river, the living and the dead.

i’m the werewolf that inherits the curse/the blessing/the Way of Being from a bloodline, but also the one that gets scratched/bitten by another to force the change. i’m the one that’s given the power to shift by a goddess of the moon, or learns from the wild things, or gets caught stealing from the Good Neighbors and is punished accordingly. i’m the werewolf who gets captured and caged, and the one that gets away; the one picked apart by underpaid scientists and the one welcomed into the king’s court.

on some level, it’s psychological, like an identity built up upon metaphor. it’s my bipolar disorder, rapid-cycling, a pain in the ass and a genetic certainty from my father. it’s also the trauma i have from his abuse—echoes from his own father’s hand, and his father before him. it’s something that comes and goes like the moon cycles, like hypomania and depression and the blessed breaths between. yet it’s also what shifts in me when i’m overcome with rage, or with righteous anger. possessive lust, or protective love. uncontrolled mania, or healthy, normal excitement.

yet, it’s something more than that. it’s the way i exist in this world as a queer person, as a nonbinary butch, as a sapphic who goes by he/him, as someone who becomes invisible when pushed into a binary. i live in liminal spaces because it’s my nature. to call me “human” or “beast” without acknowledgement of the other is an insult. i break binaries. i complicate things. i frustrate closed-minded people because they want me to just pick a side. my sex is “depends on who’s asking.” my gender is “undefined.” my sexuality is “it’s gay when i love women.”

i experience phantom shifts, mostly uncontrolled but not always. sometimes it ripples through my body, like what you see in the more visceral werewolf films. sometimes it feels more like a natural body overlaid on top of my human one, like a comfortable extension of me.

that’s not even to touch on my practice with Hel and the werewolf motif that has permeated so much of that practice. this post is, frankly, long enough as it is. i’m gritting my teeth as i set aside all i’ve written about being a boundary-breaking, eclectic dedicant of Freyja. i hope that this might become a rough, rough draft for something more substantial i’ll write someday. who knows? if you’ve made it this far, i’d love to hear your thoughts.

#alterhuman journal #otherkin #werewolfkin #alterhumanity #psychological otherkin #i’m hoping to get some eyes on this so please feel free to reblog!#i hope the readmore makes it easier #tbh i can get very long-winded so i like to give folks the option lmao #alterhuman

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batemanorthodontics · 1 month

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Conquering Misaligned Jaws and Treatment Options

Have you ever wondered why your morning coffee just doesn't feel right, or why chewing something feels a bit off-kilter? It might not be your brewing technique or the quality of those beans. Sometimes, the problem arises with the misaligned jaw, a condition that affects many people more than you might think.

But, don’t worry. Just like a perfectly symmetrical curved surface of a plane, there are ways to fix a misaligned jaw and bring back a healthier and happier smile of you. So, grab your favorite beverage, and let's get into the world of misaligned jaw treatment options.

Understanding the Misaligned Jaw

Imagine your jaw as a perfectly balanced seesaw. Now, picture one side dipping lower than the other. That's kind of what happens with a misaligned jaw. The technical term is "malocclusion," and it can occur in the upper jaw (maxilla), the lower jaw (mandible), or both.

There are a few reasons why this seesaw might become unbalanced. Genetics can play a role, as can childhood habits like thumb sucking or persistent use of a pacifier. Injuries, missing teeth, and even certain medical conditions can also contribute.

Signs and Symptoms

Not everyone with a misaligned jaw experiences problems, but some telltale signs can indicate it's time to chat with your dentist. Here are a few to watch out for:

Pain: Jaw pain, especially in the morning or while chewing, can be a red flag.

Chewing difficulties: Does chewing feel uneven or uncomfortable? Facial asymmetry: Is one side of your face noticeably different from the other?

Speech problems: Misalignment can sometimes affect how you pronounce certain sounds.

Uneven tooth wear: Excessive wear on specific teeth can be a sign of misalignment putting uneven pressure on your chompers.

Difficulty biting: Does it feel awkward or uncomfortable to bring your teeth together?

Treatment Options: Aligning Your Smile for Success

The good news is that there are effective treatment options available for misaligned jaws, depending on the severity of the case. Let's explore some of the most common approaches:

Braces: Our old friend, the trusty brace, is still a champion for jaw alignment, especially in mild to moderate cases. Traditional metal braces or even newer, clear aligner options can gradually move your teeth and jawbone into a more optimal position.

Headgear: This might sound a bit intimidating, but headgear is simply an appliance used in conjunction with braces to apply extra pressure and guide jaw movement in specific directions. It's not an everyday wear item and is typically used for short periods during treatment.

Expanders: Sometimes, a narrow upper jaw can contribute to misalignment. In such cases, an expander, a device that fits over the palate, can be used to gently widen the jawbone and create space for proper tooth alignment.

Jaw Surgery (Orthognathic Surgery): For more severe misalignment that significantly impacts your bite function or facial appearance, jaw surgery might be recommended. This is a specialized procedure performed by an oral and maxillofacial surgeon and often involves repositioning the upper or lower jawbone.

The Road to a Happy Smile

No matter which treatment option you choose, remember that a little patience is key. Aligning your jaw takes time, and consistency with your treatment plan is essential for success.

Here are some bonus tips to make the journey smoother:

Find a dental professional you trust: A skilled and experienced dentist or orthodontist, Rochester NY, can guide you through the treatment process and answer any questions you might have.

Practice good oral hygiene: Brushing and flossing diligently are even more crucial during treatment to prevent cavities and gum disease.

Maintain a healthy diet: Stick to soft foods during the initial adjustment period and gradually introduce firmer foods as your jaw adapts.

Don't be afraid to ask questions: Communication is key! Talk to your dentist about any concerns or discomfort you experience.

The Takeaway: A Smile Worth Sharing

A misaligned jaw doesn't have to hold you back from a radiant smile and a healthy bite. With a variety of treatment options available and the guidance of a qualified dental professional, you can achieve the beautiful, balanced smile you've always dreamed of. So, take that first step, schedule a consultation, and get ready to conquer your misaligned jaw and share your confident grin with the world!

#braces #dental health #orthodontist #bateman orthodontics

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gmdental · 1 month

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Stained Teeth: Causes, Prevention, and Treatment

A bright, healthy smile can demonstrate confidence and make those around you warm to you. But if your teeth are lacklustre, yellow, or even stained, you might not feel so good about sharing your smile.

If your smile has lost its sparkle, you’re not alone. Many people experience discolouration and staining, and there are several potential causes.

While brushing your teeth alone won’t bring them back to being perfectly white, there are other ways.

In this guide, we’ll look at the causes of stained and discoloured teeth. We’ll also discuss how we can treat them and equip you with the know-how to ensure your smile stays bright.

What Causes Discoloured or Stained Teeth?

There are several potential causes for stains and discolouration, some are preventable, others are unavoidable.

Stains affecting the outer layer of your teeth are called extrinsic stains. This type of stain is often caused by diet. Common culprits for causing these stains include dark berries, coffee, tea, red wine, spicy food, and cola. Smoking can also leave extrinsic stains.

When the stains penetrate the tooth, they can affect the dentin. This is the layer below the dental enamel. Potential causes for intrinsic stains include dental trauma, infection, and certain medications. Stains from smoking can become intrinsic.

As we age, our dental enamel thins. This causes the darker-coloured dentin below the surface to show through, giving your once-white teeth a yellow appearance.

Other potential causes for discolouration include genetics and certain cancer treatments.

Can You Tell the Cause of Stained Teeth By the Colour?

Discoloured teeth could turn yellow, brown, purple, or grey. You may also develop white or black spots on your teeth.

Yellow teeth occur through ageing, diet, and poor oral hygiene. Smoking can turn your teeth brown; however, some brown marks may be tooth decay. If your teeth are a shade of purple, you likely enjoy red wine.

Grey teeth indicate that your nerve endings have died. This typically occurs as a result of dental infection or trauma. White spots are fluorosis, which is usually from consuming high levels of fluoride as a child. Black spots are caused by severe decay.

How Are Stained and Discoloured Teeth Treated?

There are several ways that we can treat stained and discoloured teeth, including whitening treatments, composite bonding, and dental veneers.

Teeth Whitening

A professional teeth whitening treatment can remove extrinsic and intrinsic stains. This safe, dentist-led treatment uses powerful whitening gels to lift stains and bring your teeth to a natural and healthy shade of white.

You can undergo the treatments we provide in stages from the comfort of your home. We’ll provide you with custom whitening trays that apply the gel directly to your teeth. Using the trays and gel for around two weeks will improve the appearance of your smile.

Composite Bonding

Sometimes called cosmetic bonding, this treatment uses tooth-coloured resin to fix several dental defects simultaneously. We can use this resin to cover any stains and discolouration.

We begin by applying the resin to your teeth and blending it in until it looks natural. Next, we use a special light to harden the resin, leaving you with a restored tooth. Composite bonding is quick and painless.

Dental Veneers

We can also use dental veneers to cover stained and discoloured teeth. Veneers are fine, life-like porcelain shells that coat the fronts and sides of your teeth. Once in place, they give your smile a bright, healthy appearance.

How Can You Prevent Stained Teeth?

There are several ways to prevent staining and discolouration. Cutting out all food and drinks that cause stains isn’t always an option; however, you can limit the amount of them you consume and brush your teeth immediately after meals.

Improve your oral hygiene by using a soft toothbrush and fluoride toothpaste to brush your teeth thoroughly at least twice daily, floss, and use mouthwash.

Drinking plenty of water can help reduce staining. If you’re a smoker, talk to us or your GP about ways to quit, and visit our clinic regularly for a checkup and hygiene visit.

Preventing and Treating Stained Teeth at GM Dental

At GM Dental, we have various ways to address stained and discoloured teeth. Call us today to schedule your next appointment, and let’s bring the sparkle back to your smile together.

#Stained Teeth

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dentistinhouston · 1 year

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How To Take Care Of Dental Bridges?

If you wear bridges, it is essential to note that they are cleaned on time by following the dentist's procedure. But before that, let us understand what dental bridges are and what advantages dental bridges provide to the patient. To know further, continue reading the article.

What are dental bridges?

The primary function of dental bridges is to replace missing teeth. The most common reason for missing teeth is tooth decay, infection, and sometimes trauma. There are other reasons that will lead to tooth loss, which can also be due to genetic problems and the cause of improper diet, and lack of nutrients. So to get a pleasing smile, you need healthy teeth on either side of your missing teeth. Also, consider visiting dentists open on saturdays near me in Houston for thorough treatment and diagnosis.

Why is there a need for dental implants?

You have a missing tooth or space if your teeth don't work together. This can cause:

Bite problems.

Chewing and eating difficulties.

Pain due to extra stress on your teeth and jaw.

If you feel less confident due to how you look or your smile.

If you have problems, consider seeking a local dentist open on saturday in Houston for a thorough checkup and the perfect treatment.

What are the ways to clean dental bridges?

Here are a few ways that will help you in cleaning dental bridges. These ways are:

● Dental picks:

These tools are like toothpicks made of plastic but have tips crafted with rubber. These dental picks work in the same manner as interproximal brushes.

● Interproximal brushes :

The patient can also use a brush that is like the Christmas tree. These tools will assist in cleaning the surface underneath bridges, which is an effortless and quick way to clean the bridges.

● Floss threaders :

Floss threaders will resemble the eye of a needle. This soft, flexible device will allow you to floss effectively underneath every bridge.

● Water picks:

This cleaning method helps clean the bridge by removing the larger food particle and other debris stuck under the bridge.

These ways of cleaning are offered by the dentist open near me in Houston to every age group according to their comfort.

How to maintain the hygine with dental bridges?

When wearing dental bridges, it is advised to follow strict rules and regulations to clean them so that hygine is appropriately maintained. Here are some of the steps that you need to follow to ensure that the bridges are clean :

Floss after every big meal or at least once a day.

Try to follow the brushing routine twice a day.

Try not to intake tobacco or any other nasty stuff.

Meet the schedule appoint on a daily basis.

Conclusion :

Bridges are the most effective dental procedure that can be used by anyone suffering from an imperfect or uneven smile. Dentists open near me on saturday will also help to boost confidence by providing a happy and cheerful smile. This treatment has been successful for more than 30- 35 years. The quality and designs used in these bridges are transitional and permanent, and this lasts for much longer if maintained by taking adequate care and following hygiene in a regime. To keep your teeth healthy and hygienic, floss and brush your eth twice daily; for queries, you can dentist open saturday near me in Houston.

Article source : https://www.worldofarticles.com/how-to-take-care-of-dental-bridges/

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doggiefooditems · 1 year

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It is important to keep your dog cool in summer to remain energized and healthy. It would be best if you had many ideas to keep your dog cool. Am I right? Ice cubes can be one of them. But before feeding ice cubes, you must know, can dogs eat ice cubes? If you are a responsible parent of a pet dog, then this question must come to your mind. If dogs can eat ice cubes, what quantity will be safe for them? Can it have any side effects? We will answer all your questions in this article. Again to your question, can dogs eat ice cubes? You can feed ice cubes to your canine companion because it seems strange to say that snow is harmful to dogs. Ice cubes are nothing but frozen water, and water cannot harm dogs. Yes, ice cubes can harm the dog in some situations. We will tell you that later in this article, but they are not always harmful. It's not only you who need to stay hydrated, and it's important to keep your dog hydrated. Ice cubes can play an important role in keeping dogs hydrated. There is nothing to panic about if your dog licks ice cubes. It is a matter of good luck for you that ice cubes are not bad for dogs in most cases. Let's know about its disadvantages. Is Ice Cube Toxic For Dogs Health? Yes, ice cubes can be harmful to dogs in some cases. Ice cubes are hard pieces that can break a dog's teeth or damage its gums if put together in their mouths. Sometimes dogs develop bloat or gastric dilatation, usually when the stomach is filled with gas and the gas starts moving rapidly inside the abdomen. Veterinarians agree that ice cubes cause bloat in dogs. However, many other reasons for the blot include genetics, overeating, drinking too much water after exercise, etc. It should be noted that after a workout, by eating water or food, a huge amount of air goes into your dog's stomach, which is harmful to him. It would be best if you protected the dogs from having free access to food or water. All this should be given to them only after they have cooled down. You can offer them water but in small amounts. After they have rested and calmed down, you can drink and feed them water or ice cubes. See next, can ice cubes be good for dogs too? Are Ice Cubes Good For Dogs? Although ice cubes are generally not so harmful to your canine companion But tell them that they are completely good for dogs, it is also not right. We know that, in general, humans like to drink ice cubes in water (to keep themselves cool in summer), And it does not have any negative effect on humans, but it is another matter of dogs. According to veterinarians, you should give your dogs plain water after a long walk or exercise. Giving them ice water or a handful of ice cubes is not beneficial. It can cause harm. For more information, you can not feed ice cubes, and under what circumstances, you should contact your veterinarian. When And How Is It Okay For Dogs To Eat Ice Cubes? Ice cubes are generally not harmful to dogs, so if they are healthy, they can eat them anytime during summer. You can put dogs in their bowls or even spread them on the floor around them to cool them down or to refresh their mood in summer. You must ensure that the ice cubes are not so big that your canine companion suffocates. If you have large ice cubes, crush them into small ones and give them to your pet, so suffocation is not dangerous. If your puppy is small and his teeth are coming out, then a piece of ice is a great way to show him, love. Because, at this time, his gums are red and there is pain in them, a piece of ice can bring relief to them. Be sure your puppy will appreciate you. Overall the ice cubes are nothing more than frozen water, and they melt automatically in some time. Remember that these cubes should be small according to your dog and not too big. How To Safely Give Ice Cubes To A Dog After reading this, you must have understood that ice cubes are not too harmful to your dog, but still, there is a way to give it Things you should keep in mind while giving ice cubes to

your pet dog. Large ice cubes can cause choking, so you should feed small pieces of ice to your dog. You should use clean water when freezing a dog. Avoid giving hard chunks of ice to the dog, as chewing normally can chip their teeth. Some dogs like ice cubes in water; for some, you give them separately according to their liking. It will be better. Do not forget to consult a veterinarian once before giving ice. FAQ Can Ice Damage A Dogs Teeth? Ice or anything hard can damage a dog's teeth, putting it at risk of breaking a tooth. Therefore, giving ice in small quantities can be beneficial. Can Eating Ice Put A Dog At Risk Of Choking? If the ice cubes are big, they can cause choking, so give them ice shavings or small pieces only. In addition, if your dog is facing dental disease or difficulty swallowing, keep him away from ice cubes. Can Ice Bloat My Dog? Bloat is an abdominal distension that can occur with trapped gas. Although dogs do not get bloat disease directly from eating ice, Drinking plenty of water can also be the reason for this condition. Yet one cause of bloat can be eating ice cubes. Consult a veterinarian without delay if your dog wants more water than necessary. My Dog Is Sick. Can I Feed Him Ice Cube? Many dogs become dehydrated, such as vomiting or diarrhea when they are sick. And when they become thirsty, it is okay to give them ice, but when the cause of the disease is unknown. So talk to the vet immediately. Why Do Dogs Lile Ice? Dogs don't sweat and have to adopt deaf ways to stay cool. That's why dogs like ice because it helps keep them cool. By eating it or drinking its water, the body temperature of dogs decreases, and their mood is fresh. These ice cubes also remain in the pain of teeth and gums. Conclusion In this way, you can see that ice cubes are not very harmful to your dog. But it would help if you gave this to your pet only under your supervision. You must ensure your dog does not have free access to the ice cube. Too large ice cubes can risk choking dogs and fracturing their teeth, which can be dangerous for your canine companion. Only small pieces of ice cubes or their shavings will be good for your dog, so try to give the same to your canine companion.

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epicdentalcenter · 1 year

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What Are Dental Bridges?

If you have one or many teeth missing, a dental bridge can fill the space with one or more artificial teeth. A bridge is typically made of a group of crowns with a supporter called the pontic. A bridge is used when you have missing teeth on both sides of your crown.

Who needs a dental bridge?

Dental bridges can help if you have missing teeth or teeth. The most common cause of missing teeth is tooth decay or infection and sometimes trauma. Or you might have been born with missing teeth due to genetic problems. So to get a pleasing smile, you need healthy teeth on either side of your missing teeth. Also, you should consider visiting dental clinics near me for thorough treatment and diagnosis.

Why do I need a dental bridge?

If your teeth don’t work together, having a missing tooth or you have missing space. This can cause:

Bite problems.

Chewing and eating difficulties.

Pain due to extra stress on your teeth and jaw.

If you feel less confident due to how you look or your smile.

If you have problems, consider seeking an emergency dental clinic for a thorough checkup and cantilever bridge dental treatment.

What does a dental bridge look like?

A typical dental bridge has the following:

Abutment teeth: A dentist places two crowns on either side of the space. These anchoring or supporting teeth can be your original teeth or dental implants.

Pontics: The pseudo tooth that fills the gap and attaches the crown.

What is the alternative to the bridges?

Some people choose partial dentures or removable pseudo teeth, and you can take them out while cleaning your teeth. Also, if you are eligible for a dental implant, your dentist places the implant in your jaw and can help you figure out what option is best for you.

Do I need dental implants?

Sometimes, a dentist may advise a dental implant instead of a bridge. Moreover, a surgeon can place the dental implant in your jaw. This help integrates the jawbone and connects to the new appliance. However, they are costly and need enough amount of gums and bones.

How long do dental bridges last?

Dental bridges can last for five to seven years; with proper maintenance and regular cleaning, the bridge may last more than ten years.

Is it hard to eat after a dental bridge?

You should prefer to eat soft food cut into small pieces until you get used to the bridge. Moreover, it’s harder to speak clearly if you have missing teeth. A dental bridge with proper alignment can improve your speech.

Conclusion

If you have missing teeth, including the front, a dental bridge can preserve your smile and the functionality of your teeth back. It bridges the gap where the teeth are missing. Therefore you should consider visiting Dentures And Dental Services for a thorough checkup and Maryland bridge dental treatment.

Article Source : https://www.gohealthtips.com/what-are-dental-bridges/

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garypharma · 2 years

Text

Want To Look Radiant? Try This Advice!

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gerrydelano · 3 years

Note

do you have any specific or lengthy fat/chubby jon thoughts or hcs bc if so id love to hear them, its what he deserves <3

hi, thank you for being patient with me while i gathered the spoons and thoughts to answer this! it took me longer than i’d hoped for to go back and edit my fic a little bit, despite how teeny tiny the edits are, but it also gave me some inspiration to combine this HC with some of my cooking, family and university HCs for him! i have a lot of love for it and i think it’s really warm.

i just think that he ate well as a child.

i don’t think he was underfed or neglected, i don’t think he had the capacity then to neglect himself the way he might later in life during the stressful and traumatic events of the canon storyline, and i think even with a “metabolism out of some sort of mirror dimension” (as i had georgie describe it once) there’s still a chance that for a while, he was just... comfortable!

particularly having grown up on grandma food :’-)

(which is a phrase that lives in my brain now because of this wonderful art & HC post by @b-e-n-j-a-m-i-n-s! thank HIM for the push towards chubby jon in the GTCU!)

i’d been thinking about it ever since he posted this and after ren drew this little number here, i was like, fuck it. going back to edit the first couple of chapters of two ships passing, since that’s the one where i spent the most time talking about him as a kid & some time in university! i think he would still have some baby fat around then and it’s just adorable.

i just think a lot about gaining weight as healing, to show signs of progress and comfort, especially when there is such a large culture surrounding weight loss as a signifier of being Healthy when the methods pushed to get people there are so often harmful instead.

as a fat person myself, i’d like to see (and so write!) more stories that don’t condemn bodies for whatever shape they naturally take, and allowing characters within them to embrace themselves and each other as they are! and, when applicable, explore insecurities and the mental toll that society’s treatment of particular bodies will inevitably take on a person, in a way that explores how to recover from it.

that’s something i plan to do with martin especially, but there’s definitely some of it in my concepts for tim, georgie and melanie, as well.

in terms of jon, i still think he’s on the thinner side of that spectrum, but i almost want to emphasize that it’s less, like... Traumatic Emaciation and more simply. not being fit? he’s just. not Fit.

he doesn’t exercise regularly! he scurried around a lot as a kid, but he was also a hypermobile asthmatic who had no interest in sports or getting sweaty or any of that. he had good endurance for walking, he could walk for ages, but that was about the extent of it.

the most physical activity i really put any focus on is the fact that he definitely did used to do some DDR when he worked in an arcade, and he learned some of the dances from favorite bollywood films! so he spent a lot of time just dancing around his bedroom and he never showed ANYONE that until he taught some to georgie, leo and alma in uni.

then his knee injury at 22 really benched him for a while! but he still remembers the moves ( >:3c )

so, he was a chubby kid! outright had a round face and was made of soft shapes and was still very Short so he was, like. so tiny and compact.

and then he hit a few growth spurts and it all leveled out over time, but there are always going to be little places your body just says, “okay, genetics say to anchor some fat here, so here it is!” and you just have to live with that sometimes.

it stays mostly around his tummy! little muffin top over his waistband.

g-d i love him.

i have a particular fondness for, like... the small idiosyncrasies in bodies.

things being a little uneven or a distinctive mole or birthmark somewhere or an unconventional gap in the teeth or small ears or thick eyebrows or how someone’s tummy might not quite “match” how their torso is shaped, but it’s very distinctly theirs.

in TSP CH7, when i describe jon wearing a saree for the first time, he describes his body type in relation to insecurities about it:

“It never felt like he could wrap himself up so securely, and that the problem lay with him. Him and his narrow hips and the bit of belly fat that doesn’t match his skinny chest or shoulders, how little muscle he has to his name. Even if he managed to get it to stay, it would still outline the wrong silhouette.”

most of this is social dysphoria, and the important part of the scene is how absolutely enamored georgie is the second she sees him, and they actually Talk about how important it is for him to feel safe wearing something he’s always wanted to try wearing.

but going back and adding the bit about belly fat there was important to me! the outfit included a choli top that stops just under his ribs, and he’s never really been very used to wearing clothes that show that much skin, even if he covers it up with the saree itself. baring his midriff was totally new to him, both in a gender way and a general body image way.

it was a big step for him!

and it’s nice to explore some insecurities with him because we all have them, and i like to focus on him living his life anyway with people who find him charming and love him wholly.

other people can’t heal our insecurities, but they can certainly help!

(g-d. i love writing pre-canon jon. filling in those blanks is my favorite thing to do.)

i think he’s very drawn to people who just appear at home in themselves. people who are solid and warm and good to hang onto when they’re walking together. he likes the balance. he finds them miraculous.

(i’ve said before that his type is “Big Handsome” and i stand by that.)

and frankly? i think sometimes he wishes he was structured more like that, could keep more weight on and fill himself out, but it’s just not quite what his body is built to do!

his fat distribution shifted a little as he aged and it went into some funny directions and it takes him a bit to find peace with it, i think he’s just naturally predisposed to being critical of himself despite being so strong-willed in social situations.

(which sometimes was to scare people away before they could come to judge him for the things he can’t help or change. he’s so. eye. jhbkjn.)

i also HC georgie as fat! you can see her here in this art of ren’s, too.

i really like the idea that jon and georgie both feel very at home with each other and each other’s bodies. the idea that they helped each other to love themselves a little more when they were together even if loving each other didn’t work out in the end.

i like that it was jon who suggested they deserved forgiveness for the things they spent so long denying themselves. i feel like it’s important that he said that. he was able to see that once and really mean it.

the effects of fatphobia ingrained into all of us do make it difficult for many fat people to even fathom relationships being possible much less being healthy. it’s important to me to see and portray fat people in relationships being loved and loving others and having that love be valued and sought after. georgie is a hot catch! she knows it! we all know it!

(she has her own things to overcome that i’ve written about before/plan to expand on when she’s able to have more of a focal point in PBR, but for now this will stay about jon!)

so i just really like the idea of georgie — someone jon adores and respects and feels safe with and encouraged by — being fat, and how that might make him feel more comfortable with a part of himself that certainly was involved in whatever bullying he experienced growing up.

and i especially like this because in my mind, i connect it directly to his family life and history, in a positive, nostalgic way that extends into adulthood as something that brings him great comfort.

time for the family, history and cooking HCs!

jaya @tolbyccian and i were talking just the other night about their HCs for jon’s family, and we can agree wholeheartedly on one thing:

jon grew up feeling at home sitting on kitchen counters.

as a kid, he loved being sat up there and passing utensils to whoever was doing the cooking, helping stir things, dropping stuff in pots, anything they’d let him or ask him to do.

both of our HCs for him differ greatly from one another, but race and heritage plays an important role in both of them! all the way from grandma to georgie.

i personally HC jon as jewish and indian!

his mother (sarika) was indian, and his father (isaiah) was a quarter indian himself, with a mixed race jewish/indian mother and a white father who converted to judaism for marriage.

that's a large part of jon’s grandmother's story (i named her miriam, and he calls her his dadima! which is a hindi word.)

miriam knew of her ancestry but didn't have exposure to culture due to being displaced during WWII.

her primary connection was to jewish culture through her surrogate sister, ruth, who was with her in the farmhouse that she ended up in when she was moved to england.

ruth insisted that they both remember their prayers and recipes and everything they could while they had to suppress themselves, and so miriam held onto that for a long time.

she and her husband agreed to raise isaiah jewish, and isaiah and sarika agreed to do the same with jon, as sarika was never particularly religious herself and they all agreed that given the family's history, it was important to keep this part of it alive.

a large part of keeping things alive in their house meant food.

many of the recipes that miriam ended up with were from her friends at synagogue, people she met as she grew older and established herself within that community in the absence of recipes from her own parents.

what sarika also had, was food!

it’s her recipes that really made the difference, and that really linger in jon’s head for the rest of his life. miriam’s recipes were comfortable, but sarika’s were fun.

she used to cook a lot in the house, all-day-long sort of cooking, and jon remembers that as best he can given how hazy his memories of his parents are.

sarika and miriam connected on this, as well. they all lived in the same house together (all the roomier when miriam’s husband died, even more so when isaiah fell, and so on.)

miriam had been able to cling onto her jewish heritage on her mother’s side, but not so much indian culture on her father’s!

having sarika in the family was something she loved very dearly. they worked together, they uplifted and encouraged each other, and they held things together in the short time when they were the two that were left.

but even before that? sarika introducing indian recipes into the house was something miriam latched onto with her entire heart.

miriam, like jon, is autistic! and cooking was one of her special interests, alongside maritime history and the ocean.

so, she was very good with establishing routines.

after sarika's death, miriam started up a new tradition: bebe night!

every year on sarika’s birthday, she and jon would cook what they still had of her favorite recipes: chana masala, simple biryani, dahl with rice, paneer, naan and raita, so on and so forth.

jon loved bebe night. it made the time surrounding those anniversaries a lot less painful, and gave them a means to celebrate sarika’s life instead of dwelling fully on the loss of her, or sweeping it under the rug.

his associations with “tradition” as a concept are very strongly rooted in his very small family and the glancing memory of when he had a bigger one, if a little less in the grand scheme of broader community.

he’s very much someone who tends towards a narrow focus in most areas of life (very beholding of him, again.) and so being able to have this is really important to him.

i just think food is one of his love languages.

food was a huge part of how he was shown love and nourishment and encouragement growing up, and so it’s a part of how he expresses it as an adult!

he makes big batches of things and then gives away leftovers as necessary, even if he pretends it’s not a big deal.

he will NOT let you help him with the food itself, but he will occasionally let you stand in the kitchen, or sit on the counter (if there’s a lot of room very far away from his work station.)

and if he asks for your help?

i think one day in uni, he was cooking aloo gobi.

(for georgie, of course. he spent some time looking for new recipes that didn’t rely on meat to fill the space left by all of his bebe’s old favorites that did. it was nice to look through websites and books together marking down things they were both interested in. it was nice to see him get excited to try something new.)

georgie was leaning on the counter and chatting with him while he diced the russet potatoes and he asked her to get a head start on frying the cumin seeds for him, the same way he might ask her to glance out the window for the weather.

until they pop, he said. i should be done with these in time to stir in the onions myself.

i think that’s the moment she knew for certain. not that she loved him — she figured that out a few months ago listening to him rip apart some cheesy paranormal investigation show they’d left on the telly, until she offered to turn it off and he said, what? no, i’m having fun.

she knew she loved him. he’d already said he loved her, too.

that was just the moment she knew he meant it.

it’s also just one of his favorite things to do in the autistic way!

he loves the mathematics of following a recipe. of getting something exactly right, and feeling accomplished.

but what he loves even more is being able to become so confident in what he’s doing that he can comfortably deviate from the guidelines and make adjustments that make it just right. special, and memorable, and fun.

this is why the indian recipes are his personal favorite when he wants to decompress; the spices!

the sheer amount of spices he gets to work with is like a puzzle. there are so many pieces, and one little addition or missing something else can change the whole taste.

it’s one of the only times he enjoys the pursuit of discovery. the “maybe i’ll try to put a little spin on something i know i love.”

it won’t scare him out of trying again, or frustrate him into giving up on it.

bebe never got angry at him for tapping too much turmeric into a pot. dadima never got angry at him for a bit of shell falling into the bowl with an egg he almost cracked perfectly.

no one will be angry with him if it’s not exactly the same or better than the last time he made it; they’re just going to be happy to eat.

so he doesn’t get angry with himself when he makes a mistake, either. it’ll still be worth something. it’s a very forgiving art.

he likes feeling proud of himself! it’s a productive activity that results in a tangible show of his effort and skill, it provides actual benefit, and he can give it away. he can show off a little! he can have something that’s his, and that people know him for, and look forward to, and cherish.

that feels amazing to him, you know? it makes him feel peaceful, and happy. it’s something he really, truly loves.

even if he doesn’t do it near as often (or, eventually, at all) when things go south for him, there was a time in his life when it was his favorite thing to do! and in an ideal world, it’s something he can get back.

just like the little bit of weight on his belly that says he’s doing well.

put simply, then:

if his heart was a room in a house it would be a kitchen.

#jonathan sims #jon sims #the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma #ronologues #HC #asks #autisticreigen #thank you for this i had fun writing it!!!! i learned some new things too as they came together naturally 🥺

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cagestark · 4 years

Note

Starker Drabble: truth serum mishap? - starkerkitty91x

“Are you sure we should be doing this, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks. His entire figure exudes uncertainty, the hunch of his shoulders, the nervous rubbing on his palms against his jeans, the lines between his eyebrows. “I don’t want you to do anything that might, like, hurt you. My project isn’t worth that.”

Tony can’t help but smile, feeling a stab of fondness for the kid. Plenty of things had changed since he’d started attending NYU focusing on biochemistry, but his heart hadn’t been one of them. The kid cares, heart as big as his brain. Hopefully, his brain is as large as Tony believes it to be, the man thinks, glancing down at the test tube of clear liquid resting in a holder on the lab table. Otherwise, Tony really might get hurt.

But second only to his affection for the kid is his trust in him. Peter is smart. He’s been working on this serum for two entire semesters now. They can’t bother testing it on him with his genetic modifications, so Tony will gladly play the guinea pig this time.

“If it really is a truth serum, then your work certainly could be worth some injury for the greater good,” Tony says. Peter’s face only gets paler. “But! - for what it’s worth - I don’t believe anything is going to go wrong. We went over your numbers together and everything checks out. Sometimes, kid, you just have to bite the bullet and go for it.”

“I don’t like that analogy,” Peter snarks.

Reaching out, Tony picks up the test tube carefully. He sniffs at it. “I don’t smell anything.”

Peter brightens, only a little. “Exactly. It’s not supposed to have any noticeable taste or smell so that it can be disguised in other solutions.”

Tony hums. “Bottoms up.”

Peter is right about the taste. Tony isn’t entirely unconvinced that he didn’t just drink spring water. Maybe that’s the kid’s goal here, maybe this is meant to be a control test. Sitting the test tube down, he takes a seat just in case the stuff he just swallowed isn’t Dasani and it has any unsavory effects that knock him out. Tony’s too old to be doing this, too old to be allowing himself to be experimented on and sure as hell too old to deal with any side effects.

But for Peter -

“I’d do anything for you, kid, you know that?”

“Thanks?” Peter says, cheeks a little flushed. He drags over a chair until they’re sitting by each other. “That’s out of nowhere though. How do you feel?”

“Totally normal.”

“Not fuzzy in the head? Distractible? Or -”

“I’m always distractible.”

Peter laughs a little, revealing rows of neat, white teeth. “To be fair, it balances out your tendency to hyperfixate.”

“Might be nice to experience a healthy middle for once,” Tony muses. “Should I be feeling it?”

“It might only have detectable physiological effects once you try to lie. Tell me, what’s your name?”

Steve Rogers, he goes to say. But the breath it would require never makes it past his throat. His teeth click together audibly. Holy shit, Tony thinks. It works. It really works. The harder he strains to try to give any name other than his own - to even give his nickname, Tony - his tongue rests uselessly in his mouth. Peter’s eyes are wide as moons watching Tony struggle, his entire being lighting up with excitement that makes the discomfort completely worth it.

Then, the other half of the serum begins to work. It’s not enough to keep someone from lying, Peter had said when he presented his project to Tony. You have to compel them to tell the truth. The compulsion begins like an itch in the back of his throat. A feeling of momentum in his chest, like the words are held there and ready to explode out of him. The answer flashes in front of his eyes - Anthony Edward Stark - but he grits his teeth against it. The longer he resists, the worse it gets. He feels it on the tip of his tongue, feels it in his gut, feels it in the flashing synapses of his brain.

Through his teeth, after only a single minute of silence, he admits: “Anthony Edward Stark.”

Peter hoots, pumping his fist. But at the sight of the sweat beading on Tony’s forehead, he sobers, reaching out to rest the back of his hand against Tony’s flushed skin like a mother with her child. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Does the compulsion hurt?”

“Yes,” he says. Relief floods his chest. God, it feels so good to tell the truth. “Not unbearable, though.”

Peter frowns. “I don’t like that. Maybe we should end the test here.”

“It’s worth it for you, kid,” Tony blurts out. “I’d hurt a thousand times worse than this for you.”

Peter blinks. “I - that’s, that’s nice? Not really nice, though, because I never want to hurt you, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony. Please call me Tony. I get that maybe you were nervous to at first and that now it’s like a longstanding joke, but you don’t know how often I think about your mouth forming my name, how often I think of what it must sound like. I fucking crave it, kid, please give it to me.”

After he runs out of breath, Tony stares blankly at the kid’s face. Holy shit, he thinks again. It’s doing more than just working.

“The compulsion aspect is out of hand,” Tony says, standing jerkily. He winces when he barrels on to say: “I need to leave the room before I admit my feelings for you.”

“Feelings?” Peter says, gaping. “You - you have -?”

“So many feelings. Namely romantic and sexual ones these days.”

“What?” Peter’s voice is nearly a shout. “Sexual feelings?”

“Of course!” Tony answers, bidden to by the drug in his system, the drug that pries open his teeth no matter how tightly he clenches them shut. The drug that roots his feet to the floor to keep him from walking away. He has an out of body experience (or maybe that’s wishful thinking, maybe he just wishes he could sever his ties with his body and float away to never have to deal with the repercussions of these confessions) watching himself spill his most depraved secrets and thoughts: “You’re not a child anymore; I feel helplessly attracted to you; sometimes when we’re down here working together it’s all I can think about: bending you over one of these lab tables, you getting down on your knees for me so that I could feed my cock into that snarky little mouth of yours, spreading your legs and licking you open to see if you could cum from my tongue alone, for fuck’s sake, I need to leave the room!”

“Why?” Peter asks. Now his voice is quiet, gentle, his hand cool against Tony’s heated flesh when he rests it on the man’s forearm. “Why do you need to leave?”

Tony swallows hard. “Because you don’t feel the same, because if you did feel the same it would still be wrong, because I’m far too old and it’s perverse, because people will think I groomed you, because I’m not good for you, because I could never be good for you, because I’m going to lose you and I can’t stop talking.”

“I don’t want you to stop talking,” Peter says. He brings them closer, until the fever inside Tony’s body feels fed from the outside by the kid’s own body heat. Still, his hand is cool and refreshing when it reaches up to press against Tony’s cheek, and maybe the honesty goes deeper than just his words, because Tony can’t help but lean into the touch, to let himself have this moment because he wants it and there is no lying to himself about it. “Mr. - Tony - you, you have to know that I feel the same way. I’ve always felt the same way. I thought I was being like, super obvious about it. I don’t care about what anyone else would think. Because I know you’re good for me. You always have been.”

“Want to be good for you,” Tony breathes. His body shakes, and there’s no telling if its the drug or the vulnerability. He cringes at the neediness in his voice and his words, but that’s him. At his core. At his most honest - yearning.

“You are, I just said,” Peter replies. “Can I kiss you?”

“I might die if you don’t,” Tony admits.

Peter breathes a little laugh, breath fanning across Tony’s open mouth. “Don’t want that,” he murmurs, standing up onto his toes.

#starker #nff #truth serum #cagewrites

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dongiovannaswife · 3 years

Text

Family matters and hopeful wishes; the Giovanna’s.

!! twin’s birthday piece!!!! :D

CW: pregnancy mentions, talk about abuse (psychological; had to add this because not only helps with my mental health, it also adds to the storyline uwu ), brief mention and consumption of alcohol. Aside from that, happy moments!

July 13, 8:05 PM. Giovanna’s mansion.

With a satisfied sigh, Lena places the notebook in the coffee table, leaning back into Giorno’s hold —he hums in the same tone, settling in with his wife in his arms, bringing her closer.

“We’re all set, it seems?” Mista stretches his arms out, humming in the process when his bones crack and his back straightens with the action. “I wanna see their little faces —they’re gonna love this!”

Giorno nods, smiling. “That’s for sure: it’s their first birthday party,” he looks at his wife, eyes softening. “We wanted to make it extra special.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Westwood joins in. “Dude, the only thing that kinda bothers me, in a good way, it’s that uh… They will want me to be the other bear.”

Lena laughs, shaking her head. “I mean, we knew that from the start, didn’t we? But they love this show, so… Someone will have to be the third bear.”

Giorno chuckles, “After all, you introduced them to it.”

Westwood laughs, dropping his hands into his thigh. “In my defense, Vittorio and Lorenzo watch it regularly —I just knew your mini Giogio’s would love it.”

“Aha,” Lena smirks, “And now you’ll be the third bear, right?”

Rising his hands in playful defeat, Westwood nods multiple times. “I’ll watch a marathon of it before the party —gotta be in character.”

The couple laughs and Westwood chuckles, looking down at the invitations on the table; the theme chosen by his bosses had been the boys’ favorite show, We Bare Bears. At the moment, the invitations laid in the table wrapped up and ready to be delivered to the respective families and friends. Underneath the notebook, the boy’s outfits for the day were ready and carefully displayed to show off: with their personalities starting to show and differentiate them from the other, Giorno and Helena had been quick to notice their preference.

Jovi, quiet but curious, had developed an interesting liking for Ice Bear, trying to mimic his talking. Of course, he was still his own person: he had no problem with trying to communicate with those around him, and would join his brother in his moments of excitement.

Dante, bubbly and friendly, would jump and agree (with little nods) with each decision Grizz expressed in the show, laughing hysterically. He’d start most of the conversations with his brother, would call for his mom when she’d tried to kiss his dad before him and his brother; a little jealous but always a loving and warm little boy.

Both of them were, in Westwood’s eyes, little Giogio’s: they could show some of Giorno’s personality, basked in Lena’s warmth and kindness. They truly were their parent’s blend; not just physically.

“Hey hey hey hey.” Mista interrupts just when Westwood’s about to ask for a costume shop, “If they love the show so much and you know they’ll ask for someone to be Panda then why don’t you give them a sibling? You know,” he raises his eyebrows multiple times, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Double the fun.”

Giorno shakes his head, smiling; Lena, trying to hide her blush, can only clear her throat and look around.

Westwood snorts, looking at his friend with a wrinkled nose. “What makes you think another baby would be ready around this time, Mista? Besides, do you remember that time we went out looking for horchata and elotes at four in the morning?”

Giorno’s laugh starts to fill the room, making Mista look back.

“Guys, please.” Giorno speaks up, smiling and letting his voice show how funny the conversation is. “I wouldn’t mind going out looking for those cravings —but right now, even if we do plan on giving them a sibling, we’ll take our time.”

Mista snorts now, “Okay, too much information.”

Westwood shakes his head, “You started it, Guido.”

Lena joins in after a moment of composing herself. “But seriously, we’re kinda worried about their stands so… While we see how they do, we’ll wait.”

The room goes silent for a second before Westwood asks back.

“How are you so sure they will be stand users? I mean, both of you are born stand users, yeah, but… Bocelli has said that’s not, like, the ultimate factor.”

Giorno hums, twisting his head when his wife shifts on her seat to plant a firm kiss into her forehead —her anxiety would sometimes manifest with her inability to keep herself under control; while it didn’t always happen, he could recognize the situation as a high stress inducing one.

He takes a deep breath before he replies, “Ever since we knew we were expecting, our stands have been there: first, when Gold Experience recognized their presence a few days after we both knew we were expecting twins. The day they were born, he was there, and so was Wire. From the moment we noticed they started to look around them, they’d always stare at the spot we knew our stands were.”

Westwood gulps down. “The boys have always sensed them.”

Lena hums. “They’re starting to see them now.”

Both Westwood and Mista look at each other, with Mista nodding multiple times. “That’s reasonable. I mean, waiting for another baby.”

Westwood cracks for the first time after the serious moment. “Dude, what if you end up having another set of twins.”

Mista shakes his head frantically, face contorting in fear. “Shut the fuck up, Carvelli! Four kids can’t be a good thing!”

Lena smirks —her smirk wide enough to show the row of white teeth, “I mean, if that bothers you, we can always try for another one.”

Giorno, sensing her change of demeanor in the way she leans into him, all relaxed and warm joins into her joke. “She’s right. Does five or six kids sound good to you, uncle Mista?”

Mista shakes his head rapidly, standing up. “You know what? I’m gonna go now, too much information about someone else’s babies.”

The couple laughs; between peals of laughter, Lena still speaks up. “Just kidding, Mista. Please stay for the night, it’s late.”

“Only if you promise I won’t hear anything more about this —just don’t.”

Giorno shakes his head, “You won’t. We were joking.”

Mista sits down again, huffing. “I just hope you end up with three kids and not four.”

Westwood facepalms. “Dude, shut up. Just do it; these two will keep teasing you.”

July 25. 8:09 AM.

Walking around the garden, hand in hand and coffee on the other hand, the couple makes sure every little detail is set before the boys’ party starts; the balloons hang around, held down at a reasonable height by the tables, where food and drinks are already set.

The chef, a man who owed Giorno a favor, sets the last details to the food, making sure to set the two themed cakes (although one could be enough, they wanted to make them feel equally special) in the middle.

Stopping by the cardboard cutout of the stack of the three bears, Lena sips her coffee, looking up at her husband. “I can’t believe they’re turning one-year-old.”

Giorno holds the cup from the lid after taking the last sip from it, looking down at his wife. The softest of smiles pulls at the corners of his lips, accompanied by the soft green of his eyes; pupils dilated from the sight of the woman by his side. “Yeah. So much has happened since they were born.” He looks back, off into the distance. “They truly are our blessings.”

Helena hums, setting her cup on the table besides them before she comes back to her husband. Passing her arms around his waist, she takes a deep breath before looking up, finding his eyes already on her. “Here’s to hoping they grow up healthy and happy.”

Giorno nods, closing his eyes for a second —praying to whoever who’s above; praying to anything that controls the world, that his little boys grow up better than he and his wife did.

And then he’s looking back at her, hope renewed and resolve shining through. “Let’s make it happen, then.”

Helena smiles, nodding. “Kissy first.”

He laughs, leaning down.

July 25. 10:54 AM.

The guest’s cars gathered outside the Giovanna’s mansion in a line, waiting for their turn to go through the security measurements: every car had to be scanned so no weapons of any kind would get in, even if all the guests had been selected thoughtfully: mostly friends and Lena’s closest family.

Once the cars passed through security, the next stop was Westwood, who took the keys from the guests and parked them in the underground parking lot. With Vivienne finally leading them into the mansion’s garden where they would be greeted by a waiter who’d give them a drink of their choice. Alcohol free, of course.

Standing by the entrance, with Giorno holding Jovi and Lena holding Dante, the small family greets the guests.

“Hellowww!” Dante grins, offering a bracelet with the date and a bear’s face in the front to Matteo, who stops right before him.

“My, my, look at you, aren’t you a little gentleman?” He smiles at the little boy, taking the bracelet from him. Next he looks at Giorno, who’s grinning down at his son. “Glad to see you again, Giogio,” he looks back at Lena, giving her a nod. “Mrs. Giovanna, thank you for the invitation.”

Helena smiles, returning the nod. “Please call me Lena, it’s okay.” She looks down at Jovi when she feels him shift in her hold. The little one now holds a bracelet with another design; instead of it being a panda, it has a polar bear’s face in the front.

“Hellowww, siwr!”

Matteo melts, laughing as he takes the bracelet from him. “Thank you, Jovi. You’re so kind.” Ruffling the boy’s hair, he takes a look from afar, leaning back slightly. Noticing something, his mouth hangs open for a second, directing his words to the twins’ parents while his eyes go between the toddlers. “Hey, what do you feed them? They’re so big! Can they walk?”

Giorno snorts, “We feed them the usual, Matteo —but I guess it’s all genetics; we both come from families with tall people, so… It might be that.”

“Mhm.” Lena joins in, nodding and chuckling when Dante mimics her nodding. “They’re starting to walk, but we wanted to greet everyone together.”

“I see,” Mateo nods to himself, smiling gently at the couple before him. “Do you think we could help them walk around? We can keep them around so they greet everyone but…” he rubs the back of his neck, turning around to make sure no one’s waiting to come inside. Once he’s sure no one but Angelo is there, he turns back to Giorno, eyes shifting to Lena in the process. “It’s hard to say this, and I understand if it comes off as weird but… Gio, when we met… You were just a kid and now… Getting to see you like this, a gentleman with a family, I just feel like these boys are my grandsons.”

Giorno gulps down, blinking rapidly to try and process Matteo’s words.

His wife, sensing his astonishment, replies first. “Thank you, Matteo. I believe you’re part of this family… So, it’s okay to me. Will Angelo help you?”

Before he can reply, Giorno reacts.

“You know I grew up without a father, right? You are saying that… After everything you did to keep me safe… I just can’t say no. I’d be honored if you help them walk around for a bit.”

Matteo nods, gulping down —words are caught up on his throat, too much emotion makes it hard to speak. But as he takes Jovi from Giorno, both men relax, feeling the boy connect them.

Angelo steps in, muttering a whispered thank you to Lena as he takes Dante from her.

“Okay, friend, where do you want to go?” Setting him down, Angelo almost melts when Dante looks up at him; the picture is just too much. Dressed in a bear onesie and grinning with innocence in his eyes, Dante soon points at the center of the garden, where the fountain and the birds are.

“Okay, here we go.” Standing behind the little one, he places his hands on his upper arms, helping him maintain a standing position; like this, he makes a small movement, like a mimic so he gets the clue —and as soon as the boy senses it and realizes what’s going on, his little feet start moving fast, making him walk up to the fountain.

Lena smiles from her spot, holding onto Giorno’s arm: then, both turn to look at Matteo, seeing him do the same with Jovi, but instead of going up to the fountain, his destination is Lena’s brother.

“Gio, are you okay? He just said something quite strong.”

Giorno hums, looking down at her. Almost like she grounds him, he gets lost on her for a moment; her dress, of the same color as his eyes, makes her skin stand out, even if she looks paler, he thinks it suits her. The Giovanna’s family crest hangs from the necklace Ariel and Rohan made —she looks calm, ready to help him out.

“I’m okay.” He finally speaks up, slowing down when she blinks slowly, mesmerized with the sharp trace of her eyeliner. “It��s just that… A father figure was never present… To have him saying that… It hits home. Especially because I never met him.”

Dio Brando. The tales told about him would put a scowl on Giorno’s face, bring tension to the Joestars’ he knew, but to him, thinking of him as his father was strange: even more with the fact that, biologically speaking, he was the son of two men and one woman. Joestar and Brando blood ran through his veins: sometimes, when he had to stain his hands, the thought of his Brando side slipping further than the predominant Joestar one would terrify him.

Not to say that both Matteo and Bocelli seemed to think of him as their son —then again, it seemed curious but overwhelmingly heartwarming.

“Yo, Gio!” Josuke’s voice brings him out of his thoughts as he and Krys walk up to the entrance. Lena squishes his arm, giving him a loving smile that ends up grounding him as they turn to greet the couple.

“Kryyys!” Lena grins, letting go off him to embrace her friend. They sway from side to side between giggles before pulling apart. When Krys gives her the bags with the twin’s gifts, Lena turns to the table, taking a bracelet for her.

“Thank you for coming, Krys! I know you’re both busy, but we’re truly happy to have you here today.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Krys looks on, seeing Giorno and Josuke seize their strength in the way men always do —grinning now, she looks back at Lena. “We’re so happy to be here —where are the birthday boys?”

Lena nods, turning to gesture at both boys from their spots in the garden. “Ever since they took their first steps, all they want is to walk more. Of course, they still need help.”

Krys squeaks, “Can I help them, too?”

Lena chuckles, “Of course, I’m sure you’re not the only one: everyone has said the same.”

“In our collective defense, they’re just too cute.”

Helena smirks, tilting her head to the side as Josuke waves at her, trying to make Krys follow him in his excitement to greet the little ones. “I know.”

“Well, look at you, proud parents of twins, aren’t you, Giovanna?” Rohan Kishibe speaks up, walking up to the garden’s door with his arm around Ariel’s shoulders: in her arms, Ellie takes a nap, grasping at the blanket draped over her.

“Kishibe.” Giorno nods acknowledging him, a smirk tugs at his lips; playful. “What can I say? I’m sure your little girl makes you weak too.”

Rohan chuckles, shaking his head. “You have no idea.”

“Ariii.” Lena mutters as she gets closer, careful with her approach so Ellie doesn’t get startled by her sudden presence. Greeting her friend with a kiss on the cheek and a small squeeze to her forearm, Lena leans over, looking over Ellie with the softest of looks.

“She’s so cute, Ari.”

Ariel hums softly, looking down at the baby in her arms —the calm and love that radiates off her is magnificent, pure love at its finest. Looking up at her friend, Ariel blinks back tears, “I know, thank you.”

“Come inside, yes?” Lena murmurs her response, taken aback by Ariel’s reaction. Guiding her inside, she makes sure Ariel takes a seat, bringing a glass of water and her respective bracelet with the bear’s face. “We’ll start soon, yeah? I’ll send Rohan to you.” Winking playfully in an attempt to cheer her up, Lena goes back to Rohan and Gio.

“Han, I think Ari needs you.”

Looking back at the table she’s in, Giorno hums in approval. “Yeah, man. I’ll talk to you later, yeah? We can reserve the boxing for tomorrow if you decide to stay over.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Rohan waves off, walking up to Ariel as fast as he can —not without noticing the twins walking around: Lena’s brother helps Jovi and Pietro helps Dante.

Rushing to their table and shifting his chair to sit directly next to her, Rohan passes an arm over Ariel’s shoulders, eyes full of concern when he searches for her eyes. “What’s wrong, love? Did she—”

“I’m okay,” she wipes a single tear with her thumb, carefully so she doesn’t pick her eye or skin. “Just got emotional.”

Rohan nods, leaning to kiss her forehead. A lingering kiss that makes her sigh.

“Helloooooww!” Dante almost runs up to them, making Pietro sweat nervously as he tries to keep the little boy safe.

“Baby, it’s Dante!” seeing the boy greet them, Ariel’s mood lights up, eyes shining when the boy tries to walk up faster. Rohan, seeing the desperation in his little face, stands up quickly, meeting him halfway.

“Hi, little friend.” Exchanging a look with Pietro, both agree on letting the mangaka take care of the little one.

Taking Dante in his arms and walking back to Ariel, Rohan sits down again, helping him sit on his lap.

“Hi, Dante, how are you?” Ariel murmurs as soon as he’s settled down, eyes softening when the boy grins up at her., nodding in affirmation.

“Bidday!” he signals himself, grinning from ear to ear: his green eyes seem yellow for a moment as the sunlight hits them when the wind blows, lifting the canopy enough to let a small ray of sun pass through. As soon as it happens, though, the canopy’s fabric goes back to its place and Dante’s eyes look green again.

Mesmerized but keeping it together, Ariel grins, speaking up. “Yeah, it’s yours and Jovi’s birthday! How old are you turning?”

The boy shrugs, searching for his parents —turning around, he soon finds his dad. Giorno is not facing them, busy welcoming someone from the Foundation, but he seems to recognize him and, pointing at him, Dante looks back at Ariel with big question eyes. “Dadda?”

Rohan speaks up this time. “You want to ask your dad?”

The boy nods, looking up at the mangaka.

Rohan softens, combing his hair carefully. “You’re turning one-year-old.”

Dante’s mouth hangs open as Rohan holds up a finger to explain to him, wrapping his hand around his —then, he giggles just as the sound system comes to life, keeping a happy tune at a comfortable volume as the microphone comes to life too.

“Thank you for joining us today.” Lena’s voice comes through the speakers and Dante looks on, trying to see his mom. “We’re here to celebrate our boy’s birthday, we set a variety of games —food will be served soon. Enjoy and again, thank you for your presence.”

She gives a smile to everyone, turning off the microphone and setting it at the table where Pietro is already taking care of the controls for the sound system.

Giorno walks up to the Kishibe’s table, Jovi in one arm.

“Ari, Han. May I take my little man over there?”

Ariel smiles, nodding multiple times. “Of course,” she waves at the little one as Rohan gets him closer to his father, “See ya, little one!”

Holding both boys, one in each arm, Giorno walks back to the center of the party, where the first game is already set and ready. Jovi fiddles for a moment, holding onto Giorno’s deep purple shirt, but let’s go soon when his mom shows him the cardboard cutout of his favorite character.

Sitting them down at the center of the game zone, in the white blanket, Giorno soothes both boys as Lena walks up to the game.

Hidden under a white blanket, she soon pulls the fabric aside, revealing three cardboard figures standing before them, with sectioned body parts: the goal in the game is to complete the bear in question.

“Anyone volunteer?” Giorno asks the crowd, grinning when some adults seem to go back into their childhood, raising their hands.

“’Kay, ‘kay, two volunteers then; Lorenzo and…” he looks around the crowd, laughing when Mista jumps from his spot, arm raised high. “Mista.”

Both Lorenzo and Mista rush to the front, each kneeling besides one boy.

“Okay, friend, who do you want to do?” Mista mutters, watching the boy grin and clap his hands. Throwing up his arms in excitement, Jovi replies with a high-pitched tone. “Panda!” he points at Westwood, who stands nearby, “Uncwe Wes’!”

Mista laughs at Westwood’s face, helping the boy walk up to the cardboard box. “Let’s do this, buddyyyy!”

The evening goes by between games, food and finally, after the cake, the boys crawl into their parent’s laps, hugging them and sinking into peaceful slumber.

“Well,” Rohan chuckles, looking at the couple. “I guess they’ll open their presents later.”

Ariel nods, chuckling low as she looks back from under the blanket draped over her shoulder, making sure Ellie’s correctly latched. “They’re just one, dear, they might be full of energy, but you know… Kids tend to get all worn out soon.”

“Mhm,” Rohan hums, lifting his glass to his lips. Settling it down, he reaches for Ari’s glass, offering it to her. “I guess you’re right.”

“Look.” She calls, taking her glass. Following her eyes, Rohan looks back, just in time to see the beautiful scene evolve before them.

Giorno and Helena had never been the type of couple to kiss publicly. Never a fan of PDA, but the few slow kisses exchanged between them were proof of just how comfortable they felt surrounded with the people in that party.

It felt good to see them let go of the stress for a while.

“Should we imitate them?” Ariel murmurs and Rohan looks back at her, confused at first; but as soon as he locks eyes with her, the way she blinks so slowly and calculated makes it all come together.

Humming low, Rohan leans closer, lips barely an inch from hers when he whispers, “I love you.”

In the back, slow music starts to play: a moment for all the couples there to dance and embrace each other in the orange sunshine from Naples’ sunset.

Leaning onto his chest with Jovi in her lap, Helena’s eyes shine when she tilts her head back, finding Giorno’s gaze already on her. Even when he’s keeping Dante’s plush there so the boy doesn’t wake up in case it falls off, his gaze still holds all the attention and love he has for her; his arm, draped around the backrest of the couch, drops slowly until it rests around her shoulders, bringing her closer —his hold around her unifies the small family physically. With the boys sleeping in their hold, Giorno and Helena look down at them, leaning into each other when the boys sigh happily.

It’s only when Giorno leans into her ear to murmur something that Matteo pulls out his phone, pointing the camera at them carefully, his eyes show only pride: happy to have saved and have helped that little boy back then, just to get to see him turn into the man he’s looking at now.

Leaning closer, Giorno’s eyes go between her eyes and her lips, seeming to take her in before he steals a slow first kiss; pulling back, a goofy smile takes over him when she chuckles into his lips, stealing a kiss of her own now.

Matteo snaps a picture just when both smile into each other’s lips. Now, the boys look up at their parents, seeming to sense the change of atmosphere around them, their little faces full of wonder when their parent’s love radiates off waves from them.

“Whatchu doing, dude?” Mista murmurs, taking a seat in Matteo’s table. He, silent, points at the couple with his eyes. Soon after, when Mista’s already seeing the commoving scene, his phone is out and recording.

“Mamma, dada!”

The couple pulls back, looking down at their sons.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Giorno asks, combing Jovi’s hair. The boy, grinning from ear to ear, shifts on his mother’s lap until he’s standing in her lap with her hands on his waist supporting him. The little one laughs before he’s hugging his mom, shoving his little face onto Lena’s —only to get smothered in little kisses afterwards.

Giorno laughs, turning to Dante just in time for him to stand up on his lap, and throwing his arms around his neck, the little one rests his head on his shoulder, humming happily.

From behind the camera, Mista sighs, ending the recording. “Dude, those boys are... My heart, I can’t take it.”

Matteo nods, snapping another picture, one so perfect it shows all the members of that family grinning from ear to ear. For a fraction of second, an image flashes before his eyes.

There's a third kid, a girl. A girl with light brown curls and gems as eyes.

He smiles to himself —his stand did it again: showed him the future.

“Trust me, Guido.” He looks back at the gunslinger, nodding when the younger man looks at him. “They’re full of life.”

Mista nods, but as soon as he looks back at the couple, his smile turns into a slight scowl.

“Uhm, not for so long… Her mom is asking Gio something.”

Giorno’s eyes shot forward, directly into Mista. Almost like he knew he was looking the whole time; when Lena’s parents leave, Mista reacts.

“Holy…” the gunslinger stands up quickly, impressed with the Don’s action —as soon as his surprise comes it goes away as he walks up to the Donna, taking the sleepy boy from Giorno. Matteo, sensing Lena’s discomfort with the sudden event, walks up to her, standing by her side.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he can handle it.”

Lena looks up at the older man, eyes full of worry. Her voice reduced to only a whisper: Matteo can barely hear her.

“That’s the issue, you never know what will happen with them.”

Matteo gulps down, seeing Giorno follow his parents in law. The way he walks makes him know Giorno’s guard is up… And he doesn’t like it.

“¿Qué pasa?”” ‘what’s wrong?’ Giorno asks as he gets in the kitchen from the back door, the one that leads to the garden.

Helena’s mom, a short woman with jet back curly hair crosses her arms under her chest, standing in the middle of the kitchen. Her father, a tall man with light brown hair slicked back, leans on the counter, eyes fixed on him.

He had heard his stories multiple times: a former soldier who kept the look. That look they’d carry during work. He had seen it in the eyes of one of his men. He knew it by now, and it didn’t have an effect on him.

“Comprendo que están molestos, pero si no me hablan no podré hacer nada.” ‘I understand you’re upset but if you don’t talk to me I’m afraid can’t do anything about it.’ Crossing his arms over his chest too, Giorno stands before them, chest puffed out and back straightened to stand to his full height. It’s an involuntary movement, but as soon as he finds himself in that position, he knows there’s no way back.

The woman before him is smart, knows how to intimidate with her voice. But he’s having none of it. Two can play a game.

And so he waits for her to talk; his silence says more than a million words.

After a moment of silence, María speaks up. “No tienen idea del daño que le están haciendo a esos niños; no saben cómo criarlos.” ‘you have no idea of the damage you’re infringing into those kids; you don’t know how to raise them.’

Giorno arches an eyebrow, voice perfectly calm when he replies back; his accent slips for a brief second, but it soon goes back to a neutral accent. “Con todo el respeto que me merece, pero no creo que usted sea la indicada para decir eso. Además, ¿quién nace sabiendo cómo ser padre?” ‘With all the due respect you deserve, I don’t think you’re the right person to say this. Besides, who’s born knowing how to parent?’

María huffs, dropping her arms to her sides in exasperation. “No me hables así, Giorno. Lo único que dije es que están malcriándolos. Te repito; no saben criar a un niño.” ‘Don’t talk to me like that, Giorno. I only said you’re spoiling them way too much. I repeat; you don’t know how to raise a kid.”

Giorno’s façade falls right there, letting his bottled up rage escape: all the nights he stayed awake, holding Lena and hearing her talk about all the things this woman had said and done, all those times he had to reassure her it was okay to feel, to be human.

All the times she had asked if they had enough money, all the times she wondered about overworking herself. He wasn’t mad about losing sleep or wiping her tears; he was mad with her. With them. All those times, all he could feel as sadness and rage: at that moment, his rage was about to escape; and he wasn’t going to let them go away without giving them a piece of his mind.

And so Giorno scoffs, looking around the kitchen. Disbelief falls into his eyes when he looks back at the older woman. His accent, now a mix of rough and soft vowels and consonants, comes off stronger as his emotions start to blend in. “Ah, ¿estamos hablando de cómo no criar a un hijo? Entonces permítame cuestionarla, María. ¿Qué clase de madre insulta a su hija? Mejor aún, ¿qué clase de padres tratan a su hija como la terapeuta familiar? ¿Por qué hacerla sentir como una máquina, presente sólo para servir y no sentir?” ‘Oh, are we talking about bad parenting? Then, let me question you, María. What kind of mother insults her daughter? Better yet, what kind of parents treat their daughter like the family therapist? Why making her feel like a machine, only there to serve and not feel?’

He looks between the couple before him, a dangerous smirk settling in. “¿Por qué se burlaron de ella cuando lloraba? ¿Por qué traumatizarla?” ‘Why did you mocked her for crying? Why did you traumatize her?’

The woman laughs, bitter and venomous. “¿Qué tanto te mintió? ¿Le vas a creer?” ‘How many lies did she tell you? Are you gonna trust her?’

Giorno doesn’t stutter, frown increasing when he looks briefly at the older man before him; the way he looks at him makes him know the conversation is a win for him. “Sí, le creo. ¿Sabe por qué? Porque por mucho tiempo la vi llorar y sufrir por eso.” ‘Yeah, I trust her, wanna know why? I saw her crying and suffer about everything for a long time.’

The door to the kitchen opens and Helena steps through it, lips in a tight line; expression unreadable. Giorno can sense her empty calm from his spot.

“¿Por qué sigues criticando todo lo que hago? ¿no te fue suficiente con lo que hiciste hace años?” ‘Why do you keep criticizing everything I do? Wasn’t it enough with what you did in the past?’ She walks up to her mom, stopping before her. When the older woman moves slightly to step back, she quickly puts distance, coming to a stop besides’ Giorno, where she reaches for his hand.

Giorno’s hand envelops hers in a second, squeezing slightly to make her know he’s there, ready to step in.

“Sólo decíamos que están criando mal a los niños. Se van a lastimar, ¿qué no tienen dinero de sobra como para comprarles lo que necesitan?” ‘We were just saying you’re rising them the wrong way, don’t you have enough money to buy them what they need?’ her father interrupts, looking between her and Giorno.

Lena shakes her head, “Él ya les explicó. Si de criar mal a un hijo se trata, entonces yo no debería recordarte a ti insultándome ni a mi papá ignorando necesidades económicas. Y antes de que digas algo más, no tengo ganas de seguir discutiendo esto; por favor, ya saben dónde está la puerta.” ‘He already explained it. If it’s about how not to raise a kid, then I shouldn’t remember you insulting me or dad ignoring economic necessities. And before you say anything else, I’m not in the mood to keep discussing this; please, you know where the door is.”

The older woman turns red, turning around and storming out of the kitchen, followed by her dad, who makes sure she’s looking at him so he can shake his head disapprovingly.

The silence in the kitchen barely exists with the music still in the background. But as she turns to him with a trembling lip and a prominent frown, Giorno can hear in the silence of her lips the pain of her soul.

“Perdón.” ‘sorry’ she murmurs, blinking back tears so she doesn’t ruin her makeup.

He, along with the rage of his soul, can only squeeze her hand. Voice dropping a few octaves; accent rougher. “No es tu culpa.” ‘it’s not your fault.’

The door opens again and this time, Ariel and Rohan show up —the latter keeps Elllie in his arms, cradling her closer as they step into the kitchen.

“Is everything okay, Gio, Lena?”

Giorno shakes his head, trying to dismiss his anger for later; to try and find a simple explanation to what just happened. “Some people never change.”

Ari presses her lips together for a second, noticing the way Lena’s still shaking, hand clasped around Giorno’s in an attempt to ground herself to the present as her eyes stare at a point in the ground, filled to the brim with tears that don’t fall. Stepping closer, she makes sure to let her know she’s there, “Hey, let’s get your makeup fixed, should we?” extending a hand out, Lena takes it quickly, letting go off Giorno’s hand automatically as Ariel starts to lead her out and into the bathroom upstairs.

“Man,” Rohan leans into the counter, looking down at Ellie with sad eyes. Giorno’s silence starts to get terrifying as time goes by. “I’m really sorry. Had we know this would happen…”

“We thought they were changing. We wanted to give them an opportunity.” Giorno gestures at the door their wives just crossed. “But as you can see, now she’s having…” he passes a hand down his face, huffing in exasperation. “If it wasn’t for Ellie I would be cursing in languages I don’t even speak. And I don’t even… Curse.”

Rohan sighs. “Should I use Heaven’s door on her so she forgets about this for a while?”

Giorno shakes his head. “Sadly, that won’t work. Every time she remembers that exact moment, when her mother insulted her for the first time, it… Just breaks her. I’ve tried to help her sort through it, but it’s a traumatic memory we haven’t found a way to make her get over.” He throws his hair back with his fingers, pulling slightly at the ends so the pain of it grounds him. “I… knew they’d end up doing something like this soon, but not today. She was so excited for today.”

Rohan sighs again, feeling his throat close. “I could always rewrite that part of her, you know? Make that memory have another effect. Something that doesn’t leave her on the edge.”

Giorno looks at him for the first time, “Thank you. I’ll let her know. Right now…” he looks around the kitchen, walking up to the highest cupboard. He opens it, watching inside of it without even having to stand on his tiptoes. Reaching inside, he retrieves a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. He sets both in the counter before Rohan. “Sadly, she always feels better after something strong, like this one —grounds her completely.”

Rohan frowns —while not opposed to it, he’s weirded out by the way Giorno just pours the shot in the small glass. Not more, not less. “The… lime, the salt?” he asks, seeing him get the bottle back into the cupboard.

Giorno shakes his head. “She likes it pure. Interesting right? Most Mexicans I know drink their shots without the lime and salt; they’re just… like that. It’s a strong taste, I admit, but… The way it burns your throat and tongue definitely feels good.”

Rohan squints when Giorno just leans on the counter, eyes closed and muscles tense.

“Are you okay, Gio?”

Giorno sighs. When he looks back at Rohan, all his pain seems to have gone somewhere else; maybe, and just maybe, he’ll save his tears for later. Rohan could understand the pain from seeing his wife hurt, he had seen Ariel and the effects her family had left after years of abuse… And seeing Giorno react like this, fierce and overprotective, made him know he was not the only one wishing to fix it all. All because none of them wanted to see their wives suffering.

“Yes, just… Sometimes you need to use the pain… And make it your motivation.”

“You mean your fuel?”

“Hmh. One just can’t go around letting feelings take over easily. Sometimes the solution falls somewhere else.”

Rohan hums. Opening his mouth to speak, he’s cut out when Ellie starts getting fussy, moving around and smacking her lips.

Giorno walks up, standing beside Rohan and reaching out, he pulls Ellie’s blanket aside to see her face clearly. “Seems like someone’s hungry… And needs a change.”

Rohan chuckles, grinning up at the Don. “Sixth sense, Giovanna?”

Giorno nods, walking up at the door Lena and Ari crossed a while ago. “Fatherhood changes you, Han. You’ll see it soon: the pregnancy part was just the start.”

Rohan opens his mouth to reply when Giorno reaches out, opening the door for Ariel and stand beside it while he holds it open, seeing his wife come in behind Ariel.

“Lena,” he calls, closing the door and walking up to his wife. Putting his hands on her shoulders just when he’s before her, he waits until she looks up at him. All trace of her tears gone, but the sadness in her eyes still remains. Deeply and longing.

Pressing his lips in a tight line, he takes a deep breath before asking. “I poured you a shot of tequila —we can sit outside so you can drink it.”

She hums, “Yeah, that’s okay. Besides, it’s getting late. The guests will start leaving soon.”

Rohan and Ariel fiddle for a moment with Elli until she whimpers, uncomfortable.

“Ari,” Lena calls out, pointing at the direction they just came from. “You can change her in the bathroom or a guest’s rooms: please, make yourself at home.”

“Mhm, thank you, Lena. Will you be okay?”

“I will, thank you.”

Ariel and Rohan walk up to the bathroom, ready to change Ellie and probably set her down for a nap.

As they go back to the garden, sitting on the couch they were minutes ago, Matteo and Mista stay there, surrounding them as Lena gulps down the shot, exhaling so the strong liquor doesn’t burn her throat.

In Giorno’s eyes, it looks like she just drank water.

“Thank you, Mista. Matteo. Could you leave us alone?”

Both men nod, settling the boys back into Giorno’s arms so Lena can take a moment to rest.

The guests are still dancing, unaware of what just happened.

“Gio.”

“Yes?”

Settling down the empty shot glass, she twists around to take Jovi from him, laying him down on her torso: as she does, she leans back so the baby sleeps comfortably. Only when she settles down and Dante moves until he’s comfortable in Giorno’s arms, she speaks up.

“Gio,” she repeats, almost like she’s unsure of her next words. “I’m scared to be like her. To put them,” she looks down at the twins, eyes softening. “To put them through all that.”

Looking on, Giorno takes a moment to see their guests dance, taking said moment to think.

“The circumstances are different, tesoro.” He starts, looking over at her with kind, calm eyes. “What you went through was the result of a marriage that lacked communication and commitment. I think you mean you don’t want to reflect your insecurities on them; you don’t want to hurt them like she did, you don’t want them to take on the parent role at a young age; and while you and I know that won’t happen because we are different, you don’t want to end up overprotecting them.”

He takes a moment to think again about his next words, seeing her look up at the night sky, thinking about what he just said; her face shows it.

“But guess what, you’re letting them explore without falling into the overprotective side. That says enough… We just, you know, gotta keep on like this. And I know it’s hard, because I don’t want them to be alone, but I don’t want to end up being intrusive with their personal space or their thoughts just because I grew up alone.”

Lena speaks up now, slow and holding a hint of realization. “We’re balancing it all.” She grins now, looking back at her husband: the glint in her eyes is back, and Giorno can see life running through them once more.

“We’re doing it just right.” He confirms, nodding and grinning when she scoots closer with the baby still in her arms —trying to do it fast, but slowing down due to Jovi. Holding Dante with one arm and draping the other over the backrest of the couch, she’s back in his arms, basking into his warmth.

“I’m so glad… I didn’t realize until now.” She murmurs into his lips, leaning on his bicep.

“Well, now you know it.” Mumbling back, Giorno tilts down his head, just enough to steal a kiss and lastly, whisper. “Let’s enjoy the rest of the party, shall we? I believe it’ll end soon.”

“Thank you for coming,” Giorno bows his head at Angelo as he walks up to the door, receiving his car keys shortly after. “You’re invited tomorrow —they’ll open their gifts.”

“Oh?” Angelo smiles, lighting up. “Really?”

Lena nods, swaying slightly when Dante hums, almost awakened with the sound of Pietro’s laughter in the distance. “Yeah, we know you all put a lot of effort into their gifts, so… Yeah.”

Angelo nods in excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll be here —which hour?”

“Eleven.” Giorno replies this time, receiving a pat in the back from Matteo as he puts his hat on. “We’ll be here, Giogio. Count on us.”

“Thank you.”

Matteo and Angelo get into their car, waving one last time.

“Don’t fucking take our gift from them, Giovanna.” Another voice joins in, rough and pissed, but masking something underneath the tone.

Leone Abbacchio mumbles something to Mar as both come to a stop before the Giovanna’s.

With a smirk, Giorno nods, replying; “Good night for you too, Leone.”

Abbacchio huffs, rolling his eyes much to Mar’s dismay.

“Sorry,” she starts, patting Leone’s arm rather hard. “Thank you for inviting us; if the invitation for tomorrow is still up then we’ll be here gladly.”

Lena chuckles, amused. “Of course it is, thank you for coming.”

Event; the boys will open your gifts!!

#i feel like this is not my best work :/#The Giovanna twins #GioLena #i am this close )( from revealing their stands but idk yet aksjdksldj #q

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the-darkfactory · 3 years

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A SICK GIRL.

This text was written and published in November 2018. This is the first time I translate to English. Hope it reaches those who need to read it most. Much love.

I was born dying. I was dragged from my mom's belly straight to the intensive care unit and spent a month in the incubator until I could breathe without machines. I was also born whole and no one ever told me that, one day, my mind was going to split in two.

I was very little when I first felt strange. Very strange. I was already 5’6 feet tall when I started my last year in primary school, finding clothes that fit me was torture. However, for my graduation party, I found a purple dress that seemed perfect. When I tried it on, under that all-showing light in the changing room, I felt fat. That was the first time I was disgusted by my reflection.

After a summer tinged with school farewell melodrama, I started high school. I spent most of my free time studying, listening to the Backstreet Boys or reading Harry Potter. At the end of the first semester, I got the best grades in my class. While everyone at home was happily celebrating, I made a pact with a friend: I was going to stop eating.

My thinness brought about new habits and what I remember the most is how cold I was: during school recess, my friends would go out to play and I would stay in the classroom wearing every sweatshirt I could find. It would take me forty-five minutes to eat an apple and before going to sleep, I would go over each food item I’ve had in the day and calculate the calories. I also learned that I had to get up slowly to avoid the dizziness that turned my room into a washing machine.

One day my family and I went to one of those “all you can eat” restaurants. After two sandwiches and a bit of cake, I started crying because I had an intense stomach ache, but it was all a premeditated drama I staged so they wouldn't make me have dinner. Two days later, my mom dragged me to a clinic. I had to take off my clothes and stand on an ice-cold scale. "You weigh 39 kilos," the doctor announced. "You're anorexic."

I was taken to a hospital that had a team specializing in treating people like me. We waited for hours until my name was called and I was met by an anti-anorexic army: a nutritionist, a clinical doctor, a psychiatrist, a psychologist and others I never understood who they were. They made my parents leave and Anorexia and I were interrogated. They asked us if we vomited, if we had thought about committing suicide and if we had ever been abused. When we talked about my parents' divorce, we burst into tears. Then they faced the back of two chairs and asked us to separate them according to how far apart we felt they had to be from each other in order for us to fit between them. We did it and passed the test: we knew we were tiny. The doctors said I was on the verge of hospitalization. I was a sick girl.

Once our relationship was made official, we went to the hospital three times a week. Long waiting, weighing, talking. We were forbidden to be physically active and we had to write down how much of what we ate a day. Mom sometimes comforted us and sometimes shouted at us. One night she yelled a lot because we had only had a piece of fruit for dinner, but how could I explain to her that eating made Anorexia hurt and so it hurt me too? We were sent to a psychologist we stared at in silence for an hour. We finished our junior year with straight As, enslaved at home and undernourished.

Anorexia and I did everything together. I would start a sentence and she would finish it. When I moved my hand to grab something, she was the one who forced my fingers closed, and if something bothered her, I did whatever was necessary to calm her down. One afternoon, we went cycling with our friends and we were carried on the handlebars so we wouldn't move. Everything was going beautifully until a sudden stop made us fall face first to the ground. We got up spitting teeth and blood. We broke our four incisors, skin came off our lips and we split the right side of our face. That night before showering, I stared at our skeletal, beaten up reflection. Days shy of my fourteenth birthday, I cried my heart out asking Anorexia what the fuck had she done.

I wanted her to go away. The only thing I could do to get her to leave was eat. Sometimes she won, sometimes I won. Once, she lost 100 grams and I went home after the medical check up feeling a killer urge. Another day, I gained 200 and that night she didn’t let me sleep. It was war. If Anorexia told me to hide food, I ran off to snack with my brother. If she hated sandwiches, I'd buy a dozen of my favorites. For every complaint of hers, a food bite of mine, and so, bite by bite, I filled her mouth with silence until I could no longer hear her speak.

I started my second year of high school with a seemingly healthy weight. I went to the hospital once a week. Eventually, I was told I could go once a fortnight, once every twenty-one days and, somehow, I stopped going altogether. I don’t remember how or when that decision was made. The only thing I do know is that during all that time I ate almost nothing from Monday to Friday and a lot from Saturday to Sunday in order to weigh more at the Monday check-ups. The thing was that once the pact between Anorexia and I had been made, she would try and talk to me every day. People didn't notice but I knew she was still there. We were still the best students, we lifted weights after eating a salad and we never got our periods. We were stopped on the streets to be offered jobs at modeling agencies and we realized that our bond had the aesthetic approval of society. I forgave her for all she had done and gave her, again, space in my body to grow.

When we turned seventeen, Anorexia changed. She screamed at me and didn't feel like doing anything. We quit the gym, gained weight and developed insomnia. One drunken night, we came home and went straight to the kitchen. We opened the fridge and devoured, on our knees, all the leftovers from dinner. We then shoved our fingers down our throats. That's how Bulimia arrived.

Bulimia was fiercely hungry. My cheeks, arms, and chin grew like a fatty bubble. I was disgusted by my body and I got dressed in the dark. I stopped studying, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. At prom I had two drinks and passed out. I woke up in hospital with an IV in my arm and my worried mother by my side. I didn't know how to explain that for weeks and in order to be skinny that night, everything I ate, Bulimia vomited.

I wanted to feel normal. I was very weak and exhausted, but Bulimia was young and confident. She never shut up, she would even eat raw polenta in spoonfuls and vomit it all, leaving me tired and confused lying in my bed. Her arrival was abrupt because Anorexia had already drilled holes in my head: they were different versions of the same thing and a pattern of destructive habits that infected everything. They turned my life into a living hell.

We vomited so much that we spent hours burying our heads in the toilet seat and we would only stop when we saw the first thing we had eaten leaving our body. We did it five, six times a day. We used every bathroom we set foot in. The ones at school, my friends' houses, restaurants, my grandmother's, my dad's. I developed arrhythmia and thought that Bulimia was going to get me killed. Some nights, while dreaming that I was violently bingeing, I would wake up desperate and ready to stick my fingers in my mouth until I realized that, that one time, the binge had been a dream. That feeling of “fake need to vomit” was the closest thing to peace I felt during those times.

Bulimia didn't want me around anyone. She made me think I was crazy and that I would never be able to be separated from her. I stayed away from my friends. I stopped having dinner with my family and we would lock ourselves up in my room. Mom would bring me trays of food that Bulimia kept in plastic bags. I once found a rotten chicken inside the closet. It was full of maggots. We were almost found out when my brother saw a glass of vomit in the bathroom that we had forgotten to flush down the toilet. He brought it to me and said, "Is this yours?" while retching. We nodded and took it away from him as if it had been a misplaced shoe.

I don't know how I managed to free myself from anorexia and bulimia, but for the last three years I have hardly felt their presence. Sometimes I wonder if I started traveling around the world to confuse them and leave them stranded in another part of the planet. Maybe they got bored of my criticism and couldn't stand my will to not share my body with them. One thing I’m sure of is that love played a major part. It was crucial to understand that I did not choose to live with them and that asking a person with compulsive thoughts to stop having them is like asking a paralytic to simply stand up and walk.

Anorexia and bulimia stole my time and energy. I gave them my will to live, my projects and motivations. In return, they gave me anxiety, panic attacks, depression and suicidal thoughts. They still whisper to me every now and then but I can ignore them. It’s not always easy. I don’t know, this coexistence has been very strange but they definitely don’t own me anymore. Looking for the reasons I developed this disorder is complex. I know that I was affected by the pressure I felt from a very young age to be perfect, the weirdness that arose in my family dynamics after the divorce and feeling that for society I was worth more as a woman the skinnier I was. The final trigger must have been a genetic predisposition and a bit of mystery: there is still a lot that science doesn't know about all this. Once my disease was established, it became a vicious, out-of-control cycle that was perpetuated by the worst evil of all: silence. I felt a deep shame, thought it was my fault and that, hence, I deserved what was happening to me. That made me sicker and I vowed to hide it, which was possible because these disorders are invisible: they lock themselves inside bodies of all types, gender, background, shape and turn them into slaves.

When I stopped vomiting and regained control of my hands, I wrote this. It feels weird. After seventeen years of being in a symbiotic relationship, there is something I still don't understand: if I am no longer a sick girl, then who am I?

#bulimia #anorexia #eatingsdisorders

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gmdental · 5 months

Text

Stained Teeth: Causes, Prevention, and Treatment

If your smile has lost its sparkle, you’re not alone. Many people experience discolouration and staining, and there are several potential causes.

While brushing your teeth alone won’t bring them back to being perfectly white, there are other ways.

In this guide, we’ll look at the causes of stained and discoloured teeth. We’ll also discuss how we can treat them and equip you with the know-how to ensure your smile stays bright.

What Causes Discoloured or Stained Teeth?

There are several potential causes for stains and discolouration, some are preventable, others are unavoidable.

As we age, our dental enamel thins. This causes the darker-coloured dentin below the surface to show through, giving your once-white teeth a yellow appearance.

Other potential causes for discolouration include genetics and certain cancer treatments.

Can You Tell the Cause of Stained Teeth By the Colour?

Discoloured teeth could turn yellow, brown, purple, or grey. You may also develop white or black spots on your teeth.

How Are Stained and Discoloured Teeth Treated?

There are several ways that we can treat stained and discoloured teeth, including whitening treatments, composite bonding, and dental veneers.

Teeth Whitening

Composite Bonding

Sometimes called cosmetic bonding, this treatment uses tooth-coloured resin to fix several dental defects simultaneously. We can use this resin to cover any stains and discolouration.

Dental Veneers

How Can You Prevent Stained Teeth?

Improve your oral hygiene by using a soft toothbrush and fluoride toothpaste to brush your teeth thoroughly at least twice daily, floss, and use mouthwash.

Drinking plenty of water can help reduce staining. If you’re a smoker, talk to us or your GP about ways to quit, and visit our clinic regularly for a checkup and hygiene visit.

Preventing and Treating Stained Teeth at GM Dental

At GM Dental, we have various ways to address stained and discoloured teeth. Call us today to schedule your next appointment, and let’s bring the sparkle back to your smile together.

#gm dental #ashford & rochester #Prevention #And Treatment

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helpinghanikan · 4 years

Text

Steve Rogers A-Z

Steve rogers NSFW A-Z head cannons

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Just like anyone it takes a second for the world to come back to him. As you are different levels of stamina he’s usually the first to start moving. The first to get some water, setting a glass next to your head and the first ask how you were doing. Chuckling at whatever you say or sound you make.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On You; your thighs. Something he can use as a pillow when sitting or to gently squeeze without thinking. They’re the first thing he thinks to grab when the hugging becomes something more. No matter how many times he reaches past your backside, he’d never get tired of your sounds at being lifted.

On himself; Has to be his hair. Whether it be his beard or the short blonde on his head, there are few things greater than having your fingers through it. Whether from tugging or pulling to just a causal run through after a shower. Feeling your nails on his scalp was the closest to a primal romantic gesture that could be done in public.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Being from a time where Birth control was in another playing field, he’s more careful then others might be. Cumming outside of you, even with condoms or anal. The only exception being oral, where it was all fair game.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It’s those little bruises that decorate you randomly. Not exactly the hickeys (although they are in the category) but the faded marks on your arms and legs. He’s never directly pointed them out to you but watches them as you move. Even when covered with clothes he’s knows they are there. His own little secret he’d only share with you.

He’d never purposely mark you like that. But sometimes, more often than not, his strength gets away from him in the moment. Leaving almost hand prints on your hips, bite marks you’re your shoulders and breasts. Enjoying these marks was teetering into an area he had yet to explore. It was best to look into the abyss, but he wasn’t ready to jump in.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Definitely not the virgin the team mocks but isn’t the horn-dog the fans like to think. With a cautious hand you take the lead at first, smiling down at him until he gets that look. That I got this, look.

“How does it feel?” Has never been asked so much. No matter how many times, or ways he always asks some variation of the question. “Is this okay?” He asks, either waiting for a reply in your voice or the moan that comes with the movement.

F = Favorite Position

Unless verbally stated you will always end up on your back. The build and build up putting his hands behind your knees. Pushing them up against your chest, blue eyes looking down as his strength holds you steady.

It’s a stretch on your body at first. Groans and moans coming more from the bending then from anything else. Settling you into a place where every bit of your feels pulled and knocked like an arrow. Feeling yourself being pulled and pulled until there’s a release.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

There’s humor only at the beginning, when he’s asking if it’s alright and you laugh at his manners. After it’s pretty straight forward, no laughing jokes and no real talking. He’s more of a silent force then one you joke around with.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps it tidy. Leaving enough hair but sticking to the grooming habits the war has taught him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

It’s a tender intimacy that controls the entire session. There’s no candles or roses (except for special occasion) but you can feel it, see it, in his actions. Kisses and touches start soft between compliments to butter you up. His forehead pressing against yours after that first, long, kiss.

After that it’s in his look. How he holds your gave and only shuts them away when he reaches his own brink.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It’s more of a boredom thing then an actual need. When on long missions alone, or just when you’re busy and there’s nothing on TV, what’s the harm in rubbing one out?

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

His voice is something that’s been with him for his entire life. Even as a little guy he had a voice that made people listen. At least, until they realized who was speaking. With his upgraded body it took it to another level.

The command kink was something that developed quickly. Starting when you asked, “What do you want me to do?”. A slightly tilted head, almost looking down at you, he now tells you to get on your knees.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Steve hasn’t had a home since that Brooklyn apartment way back when. He’s lived places, many places but the closest to having his own space was with you. Whether it be a shared apartment, hotel room or anywhere that has a lock and you in it.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Either in the morning or at the end of the day. Where there’s no waiting messages, no emails or calls looking for attention. There’s nothing other than the two of you and a hard surface.

But, those moments are fragile. A ringing phone or the smallest charm can ruin the entire mood. Ensuring that, whoever was on the other end, was going to get the annoyed voice of either a captain or his woman.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Public. The farthest he would go with an audience was having you on his lap. And even then it was just for comfort, easier to keep a hand on those thighs, then for anything sexual. That you feel anything when sliding back into his lap is nothing more than accident.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He’d put a hand to your cheek when you’d start to slide down. Asking if you’d rather go first. Depending on your reaction he would take your place.

Old habits die hard, it would seem. Preferring to go down on you instead of receiving. It’s arguably where his real experience shines. With the use of his fingers all you hand do is grab the sheets or cover your mouth. These reactions making a smile come to his lips.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It takes control on his part to keep from hurting you. More than once he’s gotten too into it. Leaving actual hand prints on your hips, each of the fast thrusts was like your insides were being punched. The first time you’ve ever had to use the safe word.

Since then he always starts slow. Only speeding up when it feels right and even then it’s done with control. It’s only when your safety isn’t at risk that he lets himself go loose.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Sex, to Steve, was more of a reward then a simple physical reaction. That being said, when the opportunity shows itself, he has nothing against knocking one out. Easier to just go down on each other then penetration.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

After realizing his strength could be just as harmful as useful in a sexual situation he treads lightly. If anyone were to be tied up it would be him, if anyone was held down it’d be you (albeit gently) and the moment is likely to be ruined by needing a conversation before going any farther.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Pressing over your worn-out body he’d kiss the side of your face, then your neck. Non-verbally asking for ‘just one more round’. Groaning but nodding your head he takes your hips. Pulling them back and up into position.

As a man with never ending stamina it shouldn’t be surprising that he can last longer than most. In the same vein he can go more rounds then those same other people. The real question is, can you keep up?

I can tell you for free that the answer is no.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Any toys would be things bought of curiosity or something you have brought in. More than once you’d find him googling things. His eyebrows knit together in the same manner they were when planning.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Steve was never one for teasing in bed. The moment a “please,” comes from your lips he’s put under your spell. Determined to do everything that would satisfy your brief begging.

On the other hand everything about Steve begged to be taught patience. There are few greater privileges then seeing Captain America in a state of babbling. Eyes rolling back and begs for you to keep going.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Growing up in apartments and spending time in tents teaches one be quiet. Most noises come from deep within his throat; whether clenching his teeth or from biting down on you.

You’d have to coax the sounds out of him. Going back into the teasing that can only be relieved by his sounds coming out more than they could. The sound of your name being chanted and praised like a prayer is something the world should hear. But it was only for you.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It’s a secret that he take to his grave, but Steve will do everything to avoid any accidental pregnancies The serum altered him, cured his diseases and made more than a healthy human could ever be. But he never asked whether it would change his genetics.

It’d be too much of a gamble to pass any of his cured ailments onto the next generation. As much as he would love to see a little him, a little you, he couldn’t do that. He’s not that selfish.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Make as many jokes about steroids as you want but this didn’t affect that area. At eight inches it’s not the focus of these sexual encounters.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s not something he’d focus on throughout the day. Instead focusing on seeing you again rather what would be done when he sees you.

It’s almost as if he remembers the possibilities after seeing you. Dropping little hints when your alone that he’s ready to go, only if you were, though. That his hand has been sliding up and up your thigh since getting home just happens to be a coincidence.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’ll be out of it long before he does. A few times you’ve managed your eyes open as he settled down beside you. His chest would slow, and his breathing would deepen, but he’d still be awake enough to rub his fingers over your skin.

Watching his face and a small smile would appear, only pretending to sleep but wanting to give you the validation.

#reader insert #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #Captain america #A-Z headcannons #steve rogers imagine #Captain American imagine

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infinite-hearts-333 · 4 years

Text

Broken pack, Broken wolf

Sander sides, Analogical (Eventually), Logan Angst, Werewolf AU

WARNING: really bad writing, angsty, lack of sleep and starvation, swearing I'll add to this

Before

Part 2- Purpose, and... family?

Logan never left his room. Well, that's what the sides believed. Truthfully, every second night, he snuck out of his room in the middle of the night to steal snacks from the kitchen- well, once he found it. It was hard to sleep without the comforting weight of his pack around him, so Logan read and fingered out what his purpose was here until he passed out from exhaustion. Which... wasn't healthy... but he couldn't help it.

Moving on, his purpose. Apparently, he was inside a human's head- in the form of a figment of the male's imagination also known as one of his 'sides'. Logan, was the male's- also known as Thomas- Logical side. There are other sides as well, Morality and Creativity, the ones he met when he first manifested, and others as well, known as Deceit and Paranoia.

Logan, once informed on where the hell he was, began to work. How he knew what to do- he had no clue whatsoever. He just sat, and suddenly, he was typing and writing and planning, it helped to pass the time, distracting him from the hole in his heart that craved touch from his pack.

Logan stayed in his room, never coming out to interact with any of the sides. Even when Creativity lost stability and split in two, Logan remained seated in his room, the only change in routine was that he stayed in the den, curled up to hide from the scream as a side split in two.

Days turned to weeks, then to months, then years. Life became a sick pattern, wake up (sometimes he was already awake), eat any leftovers, work until he was exhausted and crawl back into his den. Some nights, Logan would cry himself to sleep, unable to remove the last image before his death- Jackson's horrified face, maw opened in a shout. 'LOGAN!'

The bags under his eyes became darker and darker, for Logan couldn't sleep without his pack, and the couple of hours of sleep he got from collapsing from exhaustion were cut short from Logan awakening, screaming and crying from night terrors.

Eventually, Logan came to the facts that crying was going to do nothing. His pack would move on, not knowing he was alive. .....could this even be counted as being alive? So he got rid of it all. All of his emotions, he repressed them, ignored them, hid them, and focused on his work instead.

And soon enough, Logan could hold a straight face from dawn till dusk. Only then, did he go outside in the day. He walked to the cupboard that he had never touched, swinging the door open and studied the clothes inside.

He got unchanged, dressed, and brushed his hair carefully, folding his ears down until they vanished against his will. Two flicks of his tail, and his tail vanished as well. A unicorn onesie sat in his cupboard, and he stared at it for a few minutes and then tossed it into the den. Removing his glasses, Logan smeared foundation under his eyes to hide the bags, before placing his glasses back on.

He inhaled, clutching the key hanging around his neck, and then unlocked the door for the first time, and stepped outside into the hallway.

Logan hadn't expected a welcome, more of a... threat for near-attacking Morality when they first met. But, instead when he walked into the kitchen he got a happy, cheerful: "Oh, hi!! You came out of your room!"

Was this guy serious? Or did he have some form of brain damage or memory issue? "Um... yes?" Logan said slowly, unsure. Morality giggled softly, beaming up at him. "Sorry if i scared you when we first met, i'm a little too affectionate sometimes. I moved a little too quickly for your liking right?" Logan blinked, once, twice before mentally screaming at himself to talk. "Oh.. um, yer. I'm also sorry." he shuffled a little on the spot.

"It's okay, you were scared!" The bubbly side chirped, turning back to cooking pancakes. Logan blinked again. He just dropped it? Just like that? Wasn't he mad? "Your.... Your not mad?" He asked quietly. Morality quickly turned, a horrified look on his face. "God no! Why would I? You were scared, and I got too close. And you didn't harm me, only knocked me over."

Logan frowned slightly, filing the info away for later. Empero and Jackson warned the other pack mates of the dangers of being near and interacting with humans, how they are selfish, self absorbed beings that only care about themselves. Empero's birth pack had been genetically changed, forced through artificial selection so the humans could take the strongest pups and use them to hunt and as weapons. Jackson was born domestic, and submission was beaten into him, causing the loss of his front left leg.

Logan expected to at least be yelled at. Well, he did look human, maybe they were kinder to their own species. Who knows, maybe humans have packs of their own. A bolt of hope rocketed through logan. Maybe... just maybe... he would be able to be part of a pack again. The idea of being rid of the horrid pain in his heart made Logan want to curl up on the floor and cry from relief.

"HELLO PADRE AND SMALL NERD~!" someone yelled from behind Logan, spooking him. Logan whipped around, and without thinking decked the man in the face. Morality yelped, and the man- who looked absolutely ridiculous in a pristine white prince outfit- stubbled back, blinking rapidly. Logan froze, eyes wide. Shit.

Prince-boy as Logan decided to dub him, stared right at Logan, before a massive grin broke out on his face as he stood upright and rubbed his jaw. "Nice to know i'm not the only one who knows how to throw a punch! Chill nerd, i ain't gonna attack you." Logan was in a near crouch position, prepared to bolt or attack, but semi-relaxed after prince-boy's words. Humans were truly strange.... "It's: i'm not going to attack you." Logan corrected, narrowing his eyes slightly as he lowered his guard.

Prince-boy scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, name's Roman, what's yours?" Prince-bo- no, Roman, asked holding a hand out to shake. Logan flinched at the sudden movement, and slowly took the hand with a firm grip, shaking it before releasing. "Logan..." Logan said in a soft voice. "And i'm patton, but you can call me dad!" Chirped Morali- Patton, beaming as he flipped a pancake.

Roman snickered, and Logan raised an eyebrow studying over both of the sides that he would be living with for the rest of Thomas's lives. Roman bounded over to patton, leaning against the other affectionately as he peeked over Patton's shoulders to look at the pancakes. "Looks good patty-cake!" Roman said with a smile. Logan watched, heart throbbing with the want to be apart of that, to be held and hugged and be back with his pack-

No. That life, it was over. He couldn't have that any more. Instead, Logan trotted around and sat at the bench, lifting one hand and flicked his wrist to summon a book he had been reading. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he opened to the book-marked page, and began reading. He read in peace for a while, until the smell of pancakes and freshly melted butter increased causing his stomach to growl in demand of food for being so neglected.

"Here you are kiddo!!! I hope you like pancakes, I was in a bit of a baking mood!" Patton giggled, beaming that unnaturally bright smile and it took all of Logan's willpower not to shy away. Logan's gaze dropped, down to the neat stack of pancakes with butter, jam and syrup, causing him to salivate. "This.... This is mine?" He asked softly, tilting his head. "Of course!" Patton said, pushing a plate to roman who had seated next to him. "I wouldn't give it to you if it wasn't!!" Logan paused, swallowing, and then carefully reached out and pulled the plate closer.

He watched Patton and Roman carefully, and he cut off a piece, quickly sniffing it before sticking it in his mouth. Roman wasn't paying any attention to the werewolf, shoving the pancakes into his mouth happily, relishing the sweet taste. Patton was half watching, not enough to pick up on Logan's cautious behaviour, but enough to know they were eating.

Logan slightly melted. It was delicious, the light and fluffy pancakes seeming to melt in his mouth, and the jam proved the perfect amount of sweetness. Logan was starving from his bad diet and couldn't help but shove more food into his mouth, stuffing himself silly. The back of his mind warned him that if he continued he was most likely going to be horrible sick, and have the worst of stomachaches, but he was too hungry to care.

"Woah! Easy there kiddo, you'll give yourself a stomach ache! The food isn't going anywhere!" Patton joked. Logan forced himself to go slower, out of the want for the others not to know about his... lack of self care, but also out of a primal fear that they may take it away if he didn't slow down. He slowly chewed his food, focusing on the texture and taste to distract himself.

Soon enough all of Logan's food had vanished, and he already felt a little sick. He scooped up his plate, wandering into the kitchen, washed it, put it away and went to turn to leave before twisting his head over his shoulder to look at the others. Roman was chattering on about something, and Patton had just turned his attention to Logan. "Were you going kiddo?" He asked, tilting his head. "Back to my room, I have a lot of work I need to attend to." Logan answered simply.

"Oh... okay then! We'll see you again right? Maybe tonight or tomorrow?" Patton asked, sounding a little disappointed that the new side didn't want to stay longer. "Maybe." Logan said, and turned disappearing down the halls. When Logan got back to his room, he definitely regretted eating so much, for his gag reflex kicked in and Logan rushed to the bin near his desk and threw up half of his breakfast. Acid and bile mixed together horribly in his mouth, leaving him gagging even more as tears formed in his eyes. He whined softly, causing more pain to form in his throat as his ears and tail appeared, ears flat and tail tucked in between his legs.

'Eat less next time.' he thought bitterly to himself, summoning a glass of water, chugging the whole thing and then crawled into the den, curling up into a tight ball leaving Logan to wander in and out of light uneasy sleep for the rest of the day. So much for 'work he had to attend to.'

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#patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #werewolves #Analogical #Logan angst #BPBW #Part 2 #sander sides #werewolf! Logan

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