#Weight Management Tablets

[sunova2023]

Achieve Your Weight Goals with Sunova's weight management products

Discover effective weight management products with Sunova's range of tablets and supplements. Take control of your health journey today. Visit - https://sunova.in/

[cherisherindia]

https://www.cherisher.in/product-category/cherisher-gul-e-gulzaar/

Cherisher“Gul-E-Gulzaar” is the best Weight Management and one of the best ACV Tablets in India for Weight Loss in India for adults with zero side effects!

[healthtodys]

Cellucare Supplement Reviews

What happens if my blood sugar doesn’t get better or I don’t lose weight is the question I get asked the most. Cellucare is for weight management and blood sugar control. Many have benefited from it because you can achieve your health goals while sitting at home. This formula reactivates the natural feedback loop that controls blood sugar and your body’s hidden healing and regeneration ability.

What Is CelluCare?

Cellucare is a natural supplement for healthy blood sugar. Developed after years of research, this formula takes into account modern life, diet and lifestyle habits to give you comprehensive blood sugar control. CelluCare works by naturally activating the body’s feedback loop that controls blood sugar, tapping into your body’s hidden healing and regeneration ability. It is formulated with top quality ingredients known to control blood sugar. The synergy of these ingredients not only maintains healthy blood sugar but also weight management and overall health. All ingredients in CelluCare are 100% natural, creators ensure no artificial or chemical additives are used in the production. The supplement is made in an FDA registered facility, following Good Manufacturing Practices (GMP) to ensure quality and safety.

 Read more: How To Maintain Optimal Blood Sugar Levels?

How Does CelluCare Works?

CelluCare works by naturally activating the feedback loop that controls blood sugar and tapping into the body’s hidden healing ability. This feedback loop is a series of biological signals that maintains glucose homeostasis and cellular regeneration. By increasing insulin receptor sensitivity and glucose utilization, it stabilizes blood sugar levels, preventing fluctuations that can cause health problems. The formula combines several natural ingredients that work together to control blood sugar. By increasing insulin sensitivity, reducing insulin resistance and glucose uptake by the body’s cells, CelluCare is a safe and effective supplement for those who want a natural approach to blood sugar control. CelluCare’s composition includes essential minerals, vitamins, antioxidants and bioactive compounds that contributes to overall health. These ingredients are designed to optimize glucose metabolism and combat insulin resistance. Proper insulin function removes excess glucose from the blood and ensures the right amount of glucose is absorbed by the cells for daily activities.

CelluCare Benefits

Antioxidant: Cellucare neutralizes free radicals and protects cells from oxidative stress.

Stress Management: Eleuthero helps manage stress which affects blood sugar.

Glucose Absorption: Gymnema reduces sugar absorption in the intestines.

Vascular Health: Improves blood circulation and reduces vascular risk.

Insulin Sensitivity: Boosts body’s response to insulin, glucose utilization.

Anti-Inflammatory: Reduces chronic inflammation associated with diabetes.

[pranichealthcare1]

5 Reasons Why Fiz ACV Tablets Are Better for Weight Management

In the pursuit of a healthier lifestyle, individuals often seek convenient and effective solutions to support their wellness journey. One such innovation gaining popularity is Apple Cider Vinegar (ACV) Effervescent Tablets, and Pranic Healthcare stands at the forefront of delivering this transformative health solution.

[clicktocart]

Medoharvati unlock the power of nature to lose weight

In This Article you we get best Information related lose weight naturally and why Medoharvati is good ayurvedic weight loss tablets or supplement instead of another market products

[rafecameronssl4t]

arranged marriage au reader where her postpartum depression is so bad. where she barley picks at her plate, and when the doctors check in on her , they scold her for not keeping healthy for the baby to feed off her. and it’s to the point where rafe has to leave a trip early bc it’s so bad

You know I'll come || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: incase you didn't read it before, make sure you read my important notice!!!

Warnings: ppd, angst, mention of fainting

Word count: 2,114

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Y/n, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” James said with a sympathetic sigh, his gaze fixed on the monitor while you sat on the lounge, your eyes glazed over as you stared blankly at the coffee table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the monitor and the occasional rustle of Anita’s movements as she adjusted the blanket draped over your lap.

“This is the third time you’ve passed out this week. You were lucky Anita was there to catch you before you could have seriously injured yourself.” James exchanged a concerned look with Anita, who stood close by with a worried expression. The gentle, almost maternal way Anita fussed over you spoke volumes about her deep concern.

“You must eat. Your body needs proper nourishment, not just for yourself but for Leo as well.” At the mention of your son, your eyes flickered up from the table, the name ‘Leo’ momentarily pulling you from your daze. “Where is he?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper as you attempted to sit up, only to be gently restrained by James.

“Leo is asleep,” Anita said softly, her tone soothing. She moved closer, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder as if to offer reassurance. James continued, his voice gentle but insistent, “Rafe has been informed of your condition and has decided to come home early. He’ll be arriving tomorrow morning.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, the confusion evident on your face. “Rafe isn’t supposed to be here until Friday,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief as you tried to process the unexpected news. “Rafe is aware of how unwell you are right now. He deemed it necessary to return home early,” James explained, his tone gentle but firm.

Your mouth parted in a silent response, the weight of the news settling heavily on your shoulders. James continued gently, “But for now, you should rest. Take these, they’ll help you sleep.” He extended a small container of medicine towards you. With a grateful nod, you accepted the tablets, feeling their cool, smooth surface against your fingertips.

You placed them in your mouth and swallowed, the slight bitterness leaving a fleeting aftertaste. As the medicine began to take effect, James and Anita exchanged a look of quiet concern. The room felt heavy with the unspoken tension of your fragile state, and the soft rustling of the blanket seemed to amplify the stillness. You leaned back, letting the exhaustion overtake you, the weight of the day’s events and Rafe’s imminent arrival already beginning to blur into the dim haze of impending sleep.

~

"Mr. Cameron, there’s news from Mr. Berkeley concerning your wife," Kate’s voice broke the quiet atmosphere of the plane as she approached Rafe, her iPad in hand. She hesitated for a moment, gauging his mood, knowing that any news related to you could quickly shift his temper. Rafe looked up from his laptop, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, already bracing for the worst.

"What’s happened now?" His tone was clipped, the edge in his voice betraying the unease that simmered beneath his composed exterior. Kate took a breath, her fingers gripping the iPad a little tighter. "Mrs. Cameron fainted for the third time this week while walking down the stairs—" Before she could finish, Rafe’s expression darkened, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Is she injured? Is Leo okay?" His words, though direct, held an unmistakable undertone of worry that he barely managed to suppress. Kate glanced up from her iPad, her eyes meeting his with cautious reassurance. "No, sir. Y/n isn’t injured, and Leo wasn’t with her at the time." A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Rafe as he leaned back in his seat, his hand moving to rub his temples.

The initial wave of panic subsided, but the underlying concern remained, gnawing at him. He closed his laptop with a resounding thud, the noise loud in the otherwise still cabin. "And this is because she isn’t eating well?" he asked, his voice flat but laced with frustration. "Yes, sir. Mr. Berkeley mentioned that Y/n has been struggling to finish her meals," Kate explained, her tone professional yet careful, aware of how delicate the situation had become.

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Of course she is," he muttered under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He stood abruptly, the tension in his body clear as his jaw tightened, hands flexing at his sides. The weight of responsibility, of having to constantly manage his wife’s well-being, pressed down on him. The sound of the plane’s engine hummed softly in the background, creating a quiet that felt too heavy, too filled with thoughts he didn’t want to dwell on.

His thoughts raced, caught between his commitments and the deepening worry that had taken root. Rafe’s decision was swift. "Tell Anthony to turn this plane around. We’re going back to Kildare." Kate blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sharpness of his command. "But, sir—" she began, her voice hesitant. "Did you not hear what I said?" Rafe snapped, his tone cold and commanding now. His patience, already thin, was gone. "Tell him to turn this plane around. Now." His blue eyes, usually so controlled, flashed with intensity as he stared her down.

Kate swallowed hard, nodding quickly before turning on her heel and making her way to the cockpit without another word. The weight of his anger, his concern for you, and the complicated web of their marriage hung in the air even after she left. Rafe stood there for a moment, alone in the silence. His fists clenched as he stared out the window at the endless expanse of sky, his mind already filled with thoughts of what awaited him back home.

~

"Where is she?" Rafe's voice echoed sharply through the grand foyer as he shrugged off his blazer, his tone tense but controlled. Anita, always efficient and poised, was quick to take his suitcase from his hand. "She’s currently asleep on the sofa. Mr. Berkeley just left a couple of minutes ago," Anita informed him, her voice soft, trying to keep the atmosphere calm.

Rafe nodded, his expression tight as they walked deeper into the house, the weight of the past week’s events evident in his stride. "How is she?" he asked, his voice dropping to a quieter, almost hesitant tone. His usual composure was cracking, revealing the concern he so rarely let show. Anita glanced up at him, catching the rare flicker of vulnerability in his face.

A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips, sensing the subtle change in his demeanor. "She’s doing better. She ate a full meal last night and this morning," she replied, her words laced with reassurance. Rafe’s shoulders visibly relaxed at the news, though only slightly. "Good," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

As they reached the living room, the soft flicker of the TV caught his attention. The sound of cartoon characters filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy emotions swirling inside him. Rounding the corner of the sofa, his eyes landed on you—fast asleep, curled up with the blanket tucked around you. Your exhaustion was evident, your face peaceful but pale.

However, Leo was wide awake, his small hands reaching out as he lay nestled beside you. Rafe's heart softened at the sight of his son, so innocent and oblivious to the storm brewing around him. Gently, Rafe scooped Leo up into his arms, cradling him with a tenderness that few ever saw. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek, the gesture instinctive, as if grounding himself in the quiet moment.

Without a word, he turned off the TV, silencing the cartoons as the room fell into a soft hush. For a moment, Rafe stood there, holding Leo, his eyes drifting back to you, wondering how things had reached this point—his life so far from what he’d imagined, and yet, here he was, tethered to this quiet moment with you and Leo, torn between frustration, duty, and something he wasn’t ready to admit.

Rafe gently pulled the blanket further up your body, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he ensured you were as comfortable as possible. For a moment, he lingered, his gaze softening as he watched you sleep, the rise and fall of your chest steady and peaceful. There was a quiet vulnerability about you now that tugged at something deep inside him—a feeling he didn’t often allow himself to dwell on.

With a quiet sigh, he turned away, careful not to wake you. As he walked toward the door, he called out, “Anita?” Anita appeared almost instantly, her usual calm and attentive presence filling the room. “Yes, Mr. Cameron?” she asked, her voice respectful but warm. “Have the chef prepare Y/n’s favourite meals,” he instructed, his tone firm yet carrying an unspoken urgency. “I want her to be eating properly, no excuses.”

His gaze flicked back to you for a second, as though making sure you were still resting soundly. Anita nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. “Of course, sir. I’ll take care of it immediately.” Satisfied, Rafe adjusted Leo in his arms, holding him close as he glanced back at you one last time before stepping out of the room. “Leo and I will be outside by the pool,” he added, his voice a little quieter now, as if the tension from earlier had begun to ebb slightly.

Anita nodded again, watching as Rafe walked away, his steps quiet and measured, the sound of Leo’s soft babbling accompanying him as they made their way toward the open terrace. There, Rafe hoped the fresh air and the familiar comfort of home might bring him some clarity as he processed everything—his thoughts still tethered to you even as he tried to focus on his son.

~

Feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder, Rafe looked up, surprised to see you standing beside him. The colour had returned to your cheeks, and there was a small but genuine smile on your face. For a brief moment, relief softened his usually guarded expression. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, careful not to disturb Leo, who was napping peacefully on his chest.

You offered him another soft smile, walking around to sit on the lounge chair beside him. Your eyes lingered on the still waters of the pool, the calm reflection contrasting with the heaviness in the air. “I’m fine,” you replied, though your gaze remained fixed ahead. Rafe’s eyes stayed on you, his expression stern, not easily convinced by your words. “Did you eat?”

His tone was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of concern that you couldn’t ignore. You nodded slowly, though the hesitation in your movement gave away the effort it took. “I’m sorry you had to cut your trip short—” you began, wanting to apologise for the disruption, but Rafe quickly cut you off. “Don’t.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for further apologies.

He pressed a light kiss to the top of Leo’s head, his eyes briefly softening as he did so. “There’s no excuse for you to not eat,” he continued, his voice hardening again, as though the frustration he’d been holding back was finally spilling out. You looked at him, studying his side profile as he avoided your gaze.

His jaw was clenched, tension radiating from him, but it wasn’t the anger that struck you—it was the concern buried beneath it. You knew this dynamic between you, this mixture of obligation and care, was a complicated dance neither of you had perfected. Your fingers absentmindedly twisted the ring on your finger, a physical reminder of the ties that bound you both. “At least Leo is doing okay,” Rafe muttered, his voice softening as he made eye contact with you.

“That’s all that matters.” But the moment the words left his lips, he saw the shift in your expression. There was something in your eyes—an unspoken sadness, a flicker of something deeper that you kept buried. You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. “Of course,” you replied, your voice steady despite the weight in your chest. You stood up slowly, your body feeling heavier than it had a moment ago.

“I’ll head back inside,” you murmured, already turning to leave. Rafe watched you move, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. Instead, he refocused on Leo’s sleeping form, his hand gently cradling his son’s small body as the feeling of missed opportunity settled heavily around him.

[lightsoutletsgo]

the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean) this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated. happy reading! mimi 🤍

taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.” 

“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly. “Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly, “I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck, “Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, “Are you two done being gross?” “Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment. 

Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm,  “Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed, “Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently, “We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed, “Thanks but I can manage!” 

♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.∿  As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out, “Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles? “Ollie!” “I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly, “There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed, “Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”

You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes. “So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously, “Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing, “Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen. “Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.” “Ollie?” “Yeah?” “You’re going in.” 

♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿ A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you,  “Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause, “It’s eleven o’clock?-” “That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?” “Well, you see… I have a question.” “Go ahead,” “So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.” “So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed, “It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Then turn it down?” “I don’t know how!” “Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second, “Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly 

“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape, “You’re making french toast in the toaster?” “Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing, “Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!” “It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming, “You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen, “OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’ “Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes, “For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!” 

You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you, “Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory, “Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie, “Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!” 

♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿ Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was. 

It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish, “I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him, “I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly, “Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact, “I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly. 

“Ollie I swear to go-” “He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in, “Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker, “Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob, “He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.” “Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded, “Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out, “It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you. 

As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre, “Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door, “Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again, “He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.” “Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.

Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black,  standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him, “What happened, Ols?” “He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out, “Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, “Gerald.” “Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you, “He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair. 

You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie, “Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles, “You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank, “The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue, “The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded, “Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you, “Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed, “Well where else would it have been?” “Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours, “Why was the funeral in your apartment?” “He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more. 

You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room. “Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?” “Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.

“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly, “Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic. “We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue. “Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.” “Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room,  “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats, “Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder, “Interesting date night hmm?” You growled, “Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you,  “Do you want to say your final goodbyes?” “Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped, “It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head, “Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours. 

You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed, “Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!” “It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation. “We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”

♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿ After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer. 

Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily, “Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback, “Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed, “Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-” “No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear, “Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?” “Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone, “I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there. Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony, “Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar. “Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you, “H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!” “Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony. “How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge, “Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow, “Well please share,” “I forgot my key…” “I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off, “Because I didn’t want you to find out…” “Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs, “Your foot is up my butt!” “Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!” “Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,

“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.” “Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.” “Glad I could help.” 

♯ the resolution ⊹.∿ “We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen “Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone, “God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled, “Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime.  “Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later. 

You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side,  “What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused, “I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly, “What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious, “I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh, “He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile, 

“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him, “Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his, “Well… we have a spare room?” 

Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later, “Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty, “You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago. “Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor. “Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed, “Fine…” “Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled, “Rule two?” “No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded, “Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.” “Huh?!” “Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie, “No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded, “I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking, “Rule four?” “Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…” “And?” You raised an eyebrow, “No climbing balconies under any circumstances.”  You clapped your hands together and smiled, “Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged, “In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.

[lovifie]

Hormones

When you suddenly find yourself thirsting over your LT!Simon that on any normal day you have to restrain yourself from throwing a chair at.

Enemies to lovers | Fluff | smut | 895 words Next Part

It's been a couple of months since you started working with the Task Force 141, an awesome force of men that save the world while the world sleeps.

The same way Soap and Gaz are, you are a sergeant. Not yet included in the task force officially, but still being asked to tag along to some missions.

It's been great! The sergeant's quickly become like childhood friends, the captain took you under his wing like one more of the team, Laswell is euphoric there is another woman and the lieutenant… Well, he's there.

It's not that you would expect him to give you special treatment, THE Ghost from Task Force 141. You are not a nosy person, but c’mon, it's Ghost! Who hasn't heard of him?

In the military world, it was the closest to meeting a celebrity. You were not expecting him to fall head over heels for you, but you were still a bit taken back when the first thing he said to you was:

“The fuck you looking at? Want a pat on the back for making it here without shitting yourself in the process? Get the fuck out of my face, go bother somebody else.”

You were not expecting a kiss on the forehead, but shit, a “Good morning” would have been enough.

Still, as time went on, the interactions between the LT and you remained just as bad. At the end, you stopped trying to talk to him, and just asked the sergeants or the Captain.

Except that bothered him too, like a stubborn toddler.

“Now you are too great to speak to your immediate superior? Need to go cry to the Captain like a brat? Make sure not to wet your nappies, soldier.”

And honestly, what's his fucking problem?

As a sergeant, you are proud to admit you have a wide range of skills and abilities, one of them being your patience to not absolutely destroy all the idiots that you have come across in your life. But honestly, you can feel it run thin as time goes by.

Even the captain had to jump to your rescue on more than one occasion, when Simon attack was completely uncalled for or he got a bit too hurtful.

But unlike your lieutenant, you remain professional. Listening to your captain, getting along with your sargeants and completely ignoring your lieutenant.

Until today.

The summer weather, great when sunbathing, not great when the AC is broken and you get stuffed in a room without windows for a debriefing with the team.

It's Ghost's turn to talk, standing to his full heights, when he finally takes off his jacket. And your eyes follow the movement, and then they just… stay there.

The tablet he is using looks like a smartphone on his hand, digits so thick you wonder how he manages to get them on the weapons triggers. The tendons of his hands moved under the skin as he adjusts his hold of the electronic.

And you follow the line, taking in the tattoo sleeve on his left arm, trying to decipher what they are supposed to be, some damaged with scars, others seems so old the ink got blurry, but still you can tell the way his muscles move under them.

Such a big arm, you know he could lift you with ease. Shit, he could lift everyone in the room. His biceps must be the size of your head, and he seems so unbothered by it, like it is not incredible the way he is built.

He switched his weight from one leg to the other, and your eyes traveled to his hips and waist. A waist that looks small, not that it is, there is nothing small about this man, but the sheer size of his shoulders in contrast makes his waist look small. His shoulders and his back, wide enough that it makes you wonder how he can enter through the door at base. He must enter sideways, there is no other way.

His hips called you again, making your eyes travel down your body, until they set between his legs. The bulge in there makes you feel offended, of course the idiot would be packing even when soft. How dare he?

Would he be a grower or a shower? Cause if he is a grower and this is the soft stage, you wonder how he doesn't get tangled.

You wouldn't mind getting tangled, you think, biting your lip.

Wait.

WAIT.

WHY ARE YOU THIRSTING FOR HIM?!

You look at the front, standing straight, and come face to face with Soap; who is perfectly aware of hour hatred towards hour LT is now looking at you like you just grew a second head on your shoulder. For a moment you don't know who looks more confused with your actions.

A silly thought goes through your head, and you pull your phone out, opening your period track app. And as you guessed, you were right. You show your screen to Soap and as he read: “Prediction: Ovulation. High risk of getting pregnant.” He burst out laughing making you chuckle as well as you shake your head.

Maybe, if you wouldn't have been so engrossed in your imagination, you could have noticed the way Ghost was stuttering while speaking, in ecstasy he finally managed to get a reaction out of you.

[sunova2023]

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[voltrohgodwhat]

Yes! YES. YEEEES.

Though, I'm constantly torn between this kind of realistic excellence... or, imagining him never wanting for many supplies, too badly, because his dad stuck an underground bunker beneath that shack, and filled it with prepper magpie insanity.

I definitely don't dream about bunkers too much

The man got lucky with an alien, I cannot unsee him as a prepper, full house or no.

Both can be good; many supplies are not eternal, even if they are long-lasting. Especially if it's been down without maintenance - or without guard. Fallout has us believing the cram can survived untouched, but things decay, even sealed. They rot. Food and equipment need care.

Also, some time ago, there was a Desert Keith post, where someone WENT OFF about why these kids were outside without freaking water bottles, and they're still right, and they should say it.

Keith's desert cabin isn’t all empty. There’s a lot of valid stuff there, besides empty instant ramen packages: papers, books, stuff he most likely stole from the garrison when they weren’t watching; and survival stuff. Night vision goggles, various knives, smaller — for precise cutting, hole punching, and even digging — and bigger, sharper ones, to slash and cut things, including his hair. Screwdrivers, durable ropes, solar panels, he's probably modified his laptop, if he has one, to automatically charge from sun. Old, yet still working, headphones. Old, yet still in good condition, clothes. He’s experienced in survival. He knows how to make things last as long as possible in the hot desert weather. His minimalistic approach isn’t natural, it’s forced at first, and then becomes a habit.

what im saying is: when they discovered Blue, in those pouches of his there most certainly were multitools, flashlights, carabiners, chewing gum, bandaids, some random pills, etc etc

like

a lot of things

he wouldn’t have gone outdoors, accompanying other people, without basic things that he carries with him everywhere anyway

[nutriarcwellness]

Top 10 Best Diet Tips For Weight Loss

Many food items are available that are nutritious, delicious, cheap, and supportive of your weight management plans. It is not necessary to cut off food items completely and is not practical also as after a few weeks of discipline you are bound to fall back to the same track. 

Read Blog: https://nutriarcwellness.com/blog/top-10-best-diet-tips-for-weight-loss/

[asharasasylum]

The Devil Never Cries

Yandere brother x sister! reader (hotd) Part 2 to The Devil May Cry

author's note: I really enjoyed the part one so I hope you guys like this smutty part 2. warnings: yandere. non con. dub con. incest. biting. slight blood kink. Somnophilia. abuse. overstimulation. smut. 18+

Days turned into a week and half and the memory of your own brother pressing his lips to yours won’t leave your head. 

You can’t shake it. You can’t possibly bring yourself to forget about it. Especially when he’s been calling every hour of the day, leaving your voicemails and texts because you won’t pick up. At first he seemed concerned, apologetic even, but after a while the texts switched, turning into horrific threats. 

If you tell your friends, they’d tell you that you need to contact the police, that this isn’t right. That if you let it carry on this way, he’ll act on the things he’s saying. In the back of your head, you know this even if you don’t want to believe it. He’s your brother, and even though this is a fuck up you can’t forgive, you don’t think that you could possibly betray him like that. It’s why you don’t tell them. You don’t tell anyone about the hundred missed calls, the threatening texts or the fact that your own brother kissed you. 

It’s probably your first mistake. Your second is returning to your apartment instead of taking the offer to stay with your friends. 

It’s fine, you think. 

No one’s in when you get there. You check each room twice. You lock the door and make sure to deadbolt it after. 

It’s around nine in the evening, when you’ve had two glasses of wine and resigned to the corner of the couch that you hear a knock on the door. It’s gentle, three taps that could be mistaken for anyone. But they’re rushed, a bit too soft on the wooden door as if the person’s hesitating and when you don’t answer, they come again only a minute later. 

You don’t move. You can’t because you know it’s him.

You're frozen to the spot on the couch, hoping that he can’t notice the dim light of your lamp from underneath the door or hear the low buzz of voices from your tv screen. 

He knocks a third time, louder and more urgent. Then he doesn’t knock again. 

You feel yourself on edge and it takes you a whole thirty minutes to be certain he’s gone before you make your way to bed. 

//

You shouldn’t have done it. But after the clock rolled to one am and your mind felt like it was on twenty cups of coffee, the sleeping tablets became tempting. 

They command your body, filling it with drowsiness that makes you weak. You can’t stretch out your limbs, an impossible weight from the pills keeping them held down. It’s not only the pills though. There’s something else as you feel a hot breath across your cheek. 

You want to scream, to pry your eyes open with any strength you have left. But your mind is still trying to fight off sleep and trying to process what exactly is happening. 

“I tried to apologise,” his voice hisses in your ear and you feel his hands gripping your hip, nails breaking the surface of your skin as they dig in. 

You whimper at this, eyes finally opening to the darkness of your room. 

He’s on top of you, naked body pressed to yours. He’s not even trying to hold himself up, suffocating you underneath his weight as he pushes his hips into yours again and again… and again. 

Your body’s still adjusting to the feeling but from the soreness between your thighs and the sound of skin slapping against each other, you’re sure he’s fucking you. 

“I tried,” his voice croaks, burying his wet face in between your neck. He’s crying, you realise. His thick tears rolling down the crease of your neck and onto your shoulder. “I wanted to go about this the right way. But you shut me out. Just like the rest of them.” 

You manage to speak, mumbling his name but it’s incoherent, barely passing your tongue. 

You think he hears it though because something feral takes over him as he dips down towards your breasts. His teeth graze at your skin before sinking into the tender flesh, laying his claim. 

Your scream comes out in a broken cry, the pain waking the rest of your body up as you finally try to wriggle from underneath him. It's a useless attempt with his weight holding you down and it only makes the feeling between your thighs clearly distinct. 

He’s fucking you with pure contempt, rutting himself inside of you as if to punish you. It stings but you’re not sure why. Your walls are practically hugging him, completely stretched out for his pleasure and dripping onto the mattress below. It doesn’t feel like he’s bruising your insides either, even though each thrust feels like a punishment, each push feels pleasurable. The stinging is there and when something brushes over your clit, you realise it’s oversensitivity. 

You’re overstimulated. Which means this hadn't just taken place and you start to wonder when his sticky forehead pressed against yours, how long he has been going at it. Was the wetness between your thighs more than just your fluids? 

Your stomach twists at the thought but you’re too numb to even bring up bile. Too docile in your state to do much of anything but just take it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t focus and even though you wish you could slip away, pretend this isn;t happening, you can’t. Not when his tongue is lapping at the skin of your tits, swiping up the blood dripping from the fresh wound. 

“You pushed me to do this,” he cries, wet eyes glaring into yours. He leans away for a second, face tensing in pain as he struggles on a breath. “You just left me. I have no one, Y/N.” 

“You-” you spit out on a sob, struggling to get the words out. You almost feel sorry for him as you look up at his pained look. “You kissed me. You’re-” Your hand reaches his shoulder, trying to push him away only for him to snatch your wrist. “You can’t do this. You’re my brother.” 

“You’re the only person I have.” His tone becomes stern as he reminds you, pressing your forehead against his. “I’m not letting you go.” 

You swear he’s twitching inside of you at the confession, you can feel him. It has your walls clenching around him, an undeniable pleasure taking over your senses just from the way his cock is rutting inside of you. You’re barely able to think as the pleasure boils underneath your skin, threatening to spill as moans break free from the back of your throat. 

“Fuck,” he groans at the feeling, eyes slipping closed for a second. “Don’t do that.” He shakes his head as if pleading with you. 

But you can’t help it even though you wish you could. Your walls give him one last squeeze before you come undone. The feeling consuming you and leaving you a quivering mess underneath him. 

The feelings prolonged with him chasing his own high, grasping onto your hips and bruising them as he fucks you harder. He trembles when he spills himself inside of you, struggling for breath as his face finally slows. 

He’s affectionate, brushing his nose against the skin of your cheek before pushing his lips against yours for a gentle kiss. You feel it then as he finally pulls his cock out of you, his cum spilling out of your cunt and dripping below onto the sheets. 

It’s sick.

You’re sobbing before you know it, tears racking through your body as you continue to lie there. 

“You did this to yourself,” he tells you, fingers wiping at the tears sliding down your cheek. “Don’t try to make me feel bad for you. It won’t work.” 

“You’re sick,” you scream at him, fists hitting against him for the very first time. He catches them swiftly, pressing them down onto the bed. “You’re vile.” 

“I know. Everyone knows,” he simply says, as if the words don’t even affect him anymore. “I guess you were the last person to realise. A little bit too late though unfortunately for you-” He pats your cheek, almost like he’s talking to a kid. “-it’s a bit too late because I’ve grown too attached.”

HOTD - Aegon Targaryen. Aemond Targaryen. Jacaerys Velaryon.

HOTD - Fem x Male character Insert Master List

(Dividers by @cafekitsune)

[sophrosynesworld]

With all my love, pt. 3

Part 3 is finally here and *gasp* lore?!

Do you know how hard it is to escape your top 5 pro-hero ex-boyfriend? His voice plays on my radio during my commute. His image is plastered across the news in the lobby this morning before lunch—he’s acting irrationally again. He’s always been too much of a hothead.

His recent heroic deeds have garnered both admiration and scrutiny. My departure seems to have affected him, causing some of his harsher traits to resurface. I never anticipated that he would notice, let alone react like this.

"I don't care if he's a jerk. Dynamite is one of the best heroes of this generation," I overhear one of the news anchors saying. The radio in the small restaurant makes it hard to miss.

"Dynamite is one bad decision away from killing someone," the woman says, clearly frustrated with her cohost. "I don't even know if it would be on accident."

"He has saved more people this year than Deku. How is that not a hero?" the cohost argues back.

"He's also cost this city thousands of man-hours repairing the damage his blasts created."

I set my tablet down, trying to push their argument out of my head. The familiar chime of bells rings, drawing my gaze to the doorway.

A redhead stands there, his eyes scanning the restaurant until they find mine. His face softens as he makes his way over, pulling out a chair and sitting across from me.

"You look good today," he says warmly. "Changed your hair?"

"No, but I did change my relationship status." I roll my eyes at his attempt at small talk. I know my ex-boyfriend's best friend didn’t just call me up to chat.

He chuckles, a sound out of place given the tension. “Look, I know things have been rough for you.”

“Rough? That’s putting it mildly.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table. “I want to help. He’s worried about you, you know.”

I sigh, glancing at the drawing in front of me. “He wasn’t worried when I was crying myself to sleep.”

“I get it,” he says softly. “But he’s struggling too. The hero life isn’t as glamorous as it seems. You know that better than anyone.” My heart skips a beat at the reminder of my early retirement. “The constant pressure, the expectations... it’s taking a toll on him.”

I look up, meeting his eyes. They hold sincerity, a genuine concern I hadn’t expected. “What do you want from me?” I whisper.

“Talk to him. Just once. Hear him out. You both deserve that closure.”

I lean back, the weight of his words settling over me.

“Fine,” I say after a long pause. “I’ll talk to him. But this doesn’t mean anything beyond that.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “That’s all I’m asking. Thank you.”

He settles back into his chair and picks up the menu. "Why don't we order something?"

I nod, grateful for the change in topic. "Sure. I hear their ramen is amazing."

We browse the menu, tension easing as we focus on the food. The waitress comes by, and we place our orders—spicy miso ramen for me, tonkotsu ramen for him.

As we wait, the restaurant buzzes with lunchtime chatter. Clinking utensils, humming conversations, and occasional laughter create a comforting atmosphere. It feels almost normal, a brief break from the chaos.

“So,” he says, breaking the silence, “how’s work? Still drawing those amazing designs?”

I smile, appreciating his interest. “Yeah, hectic, but I’m managing. Deadlines are killer, though.” He laughs as our waitress places two bowls in front of us.

“I can imagine. But your work is worth it. You’ve got talent, always have.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling more at ease. “How about you? How’s hero life?”

“It’s... a lot,” he admits, mouth full of food. He swallows. “But it’s worth it, knowing we’re making a difference." I hum in agreement, tasting my food. The flavorful broth dances across my tongue, making me do an unconscious happy dance.

"We really do miss you though," Kiri says, his voice trailing off as he scratches his neck. I feel a pang of remembrance. I've never stopped missing being a hero. I hate not being able to work with my best friends.

"I don't get a retirement package as a hero," I reply, forcing a smile to mask my heartache. But it's clear my facade fails as regret fills Kiri's eyes. Apologies spill from his lips, but I don't listen. Instead, I reach out and gently place my hand on his for a brief moment.

"Eijiro, I promise you I've moved on. I don't blame anyone for what happened," I assure him, pushing another smile onto my face. "I got over that a long time ago."

I withdraw my hand and continue to eat, the conversation flowing more easily after a few moments. We reminisce about our days at UA, share laughs about our coworkers, and for a while, it feels like old times.

By the time we finish, I feel lighter, the past weeks’ weight lifting slightly. It’s not a solution, but it’s a start.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he says as we stand to leave. “and for agreeing to talk to him.”

I nod, a sense of anticipation blooming. “We’ll see how it goes.”

As we step out into the city’s noise, I unblock his number from my phone and watch in horror as hundreds of missed messages flood my phone screen.

[pranichealthcare1]

From Digestion to Detox: How ACV Can Improve Your Gut Health

[verypeanutgarden]

Ushijima would be the type to not know that he is a natural flirty person. He is completely clueless. Especially with you. Being the manager of Schweiden Adlers you have your challenges with his flirty actions. We are now in the volleyball court of Schweiden Adlers...

•••••••

"Ushijima?" You called.

He turns his head towards you, showing off his abs as he wipes the sweat off his chin. His cheeks, red from the training drill they have been doing for the past hour. He shifts his weight as hes full body turns towards you.

"Yes Y/n?" He replied, as he pulls down his shirt and stares down at you. His body, almost shadowing you. You space out until you snap yourself back to reality, you open your mouth to speak...

"Here is your work out plan" you show him your tablet and with the use of your pen you point out and draw what is needed.

"Starting next week monday, you will be doing more weights during your strength training, and we will implement more foot as well as speed training following friday and saturday training. Sounds good" as you explained you didnt realize the lingering presence behind you bend down and place his head near yours to view your tablet

"Sounds good, may I ask if my diet will change at all" he said bluntly as if your faces weren't mere inches apart. With a small blush forming on your cheeks you take a step away and reply a nope, then running off to the next player you need to discuss their workout with. Ushijima who has no idea of how his actions affect others stand there still confused as to why your behavior has been like this ever since you joined the Schweiden Adlers as the assistant coach.

"Ushijima" the voice behind him said. He turns to see kageyama. "We have to do stretching now." Said kageyama bluntly.

As they did their stretches Ushijima spaces out as to why you are acting this way. Which leads him to a ramen place with two of his team mates. Kageyama and Hoshiumi, they simply went because Ushijima said he would buy them anything they wanted. But what they didn't expect is for Ushijima to ask advice about women. It is good to note that none of the two hes about to ask advice from has no experience with women.

"Maybe shes just quiet?" Asks Kageyama "But shes loud with the head coach." Replied Ushijima.

They had just finished eating when Ushijima proposed the question, 'why were you distant with him, and him alone'. This ended with the three men with no experience whatsoever with the feelings of women to ponder why are you distant with him.

"Maybe she is feeling under the weather?" Kageyama asked, "For the past year?" Countered Ushijima. Which leads the two to hold their hand in their chin and ponder more.

"I mean, it makes no sense for her to dislike you because you have done nothing wrong to her" said Hoshiumi.

Which makes Kageyama nod along, the night goes on and they are left there at the ramen shop asking themselves why you didn't like Ushijima. When in reality it was the opposite, but they can't seem to quite understand that. As the night rolls the sky the two wave goodbye to Ushijima, with a solid goodbye and see you tomorrow the three split ways. Ushijima walking to his studio condo near the volleyball court, he still questions as to why you seemed to dislike him, until.

"Ushiwaka?" A familiar voice calls out. He turns to the voice and its Tendou. Ushijima waves and walks towards Tendou. An exchange of greetings, and they seem to catch the conversation they left off a few months ago.

"So how is that assistant coach of yours? Is she still working for your team?" Asked Tendou. With a nod coming from Ushijima, Tendou knew there had to be something bothering him. So his nose got to sniffing...

"Had a tough day? Seems like you're in thought, Ushiwaka..." Asked Tendou.

"I...just don't understand her..." Replied Ushijima in defeat as if his problems have won.

"Why don't you go talk to her?" Asked Tendou. "But what if she doesn't want to talk to me?" Replied Ushijima.

"Then corner her and ask her properly. Because it would be better than you to assume every thought she has." Said Tendou as a matter of fact tone. Ushijima simply nodded, as the night grew colder Ushijima and Tendou separated ways. Promising to tell each other when they would be in town. As Ushijima unlocks the door to his condo, he realizes he should talk to you and address this whole situation.

The next morning, Ushijima wakes up to his alarm that is set at 6 am, two hours before his training later. He gets up to make breakfast, a simple egg sandwich and then he changes into his clothes. Then goes to the gym to practice on his spikes an hour before training. As he walks into the gymnasium he notices a figure moving around the court, as he looks and enters further. He sees you. He notices the way his heart quickens with your every move. He notices the way his voice catches in his throat as you walk by. He was daydreaming until, he saw your figure wave towards him. Which has him wave back towards you.

Ushijima stays silent, this isn't the first time you have shown him kindness in silence so he decided to take the advice given to him last night.

"Y/n?" Ushijima speaks up. You freeze and turn your body towards him. You raise your eyebrows to him, "Yes?" You replied.

The air so dense around them, making it hard to breathe then Ushijima speaks.

"Y/n, I have to ask if I have done something to upset you...If I have I apologize if I have..." Ushijima trails off in thought, and pauses to wait for your reply. A moment passes and you still say nothing, he opens his mouth to speak again. Until you interrupt him,

"Ushijima, I'm sorry if I gave the impression that I hated you...I just..." You trail off with your words and can't seem to face him a blush forming on your cheeks you fidget with the bottom of your shirt, then you raise your head to look up at him until suddenly he is right in front of you. Bending down to meet your eye to eye, your lips just a few inches apart. If you were to simply take a small step forward, you would have your lips on his.

"Your red...are you coming down with a fever?" He asks as he places his hand on your forehead, your face turning more red.

"Y/n?" He asks. Even though he just says your name you can't help but fall harder for your crush.

"Should I bring you to the clinic?" You wave your hand in front of his face, and take a step back to walk away. But before you could turn you felt a grip on your wrist,

"Please don't turn away from me" he says with a pout in his eyes. Who could say no to him, with this it ended with you in the clinic with Ushijima right next to you.

But it would be an understatement that this would be the end of your story with Ushijima. Because one year from now you would be labeled his Girlfriend and soon to be Fiance, he already bought the ring.