#he has a %100 burn rate for food and himself

[belovedcorvidarchive2024]

I see a couple of you in the inbox and if you answer yes to this man's cooking you're taking your life in your hands I will not be held liable.

[here-comes-the-moose]

Some More of my Bad Batch Headcanons Under the Cut

Because of his enhanced vision, Crosshair used to get sick from Tech’s flying. He’s mostly fine now, but it can happen if things get really rough.

Crosshair and Hunter get migraines. Crosshair’s affect his vision more, whereas Hunter’s affect his hearing more. Both are sensitive to smells.

Crosshair had a huge crush on General Skywalker. His brothers teased him about it.

Tech made Crosshair a special eye mask for his migraines.

Hunter feels like he always has to be strong for his younger siblings, so is only able to fully open up to Echo.

Changes in air pressure really mess with Hunter’s ears.

Tech made him some special ear plugs, both for the air pressure thing and for his migraines.

Crosshair is the youngest, and the others never let him forget it.

Crosshair is actually the most sensitive member of the batch.

Omega looks just like Crosshair as a kid.

Crosshair is a natural blond like Omega , he just bleaches his hair for the silver/platinum look.

Crosshair had a very baby face for most of his cadet years and when they were first deployed. I’m talking round face, chubby cheeks, the works. When he would glare at people, no one could take him seriously.

On that note, the Batch were deployed at an earlier age than most clones are, and still looked quite young when they first entered the war. People were confused by the extremely high success rate of these baby-faced enhanced clones.

This led to Cody adopting them right on the spot, of course.

Crosshair was the one who suggested that Echo come with them and be part of their squad.

Crosshair actually listens to Echo (most of the time). Hunter is extremely impressed by Echo’s ability to get his younger brother to behave with just a single look.

Omega is the only one with a 100% success rate in getting Crosshair out of bed during a depressive episode.

Everyone knows that Crosshair and Wrecker team up to cause shenanigans™️, but the real danger comes when Crosshair and Tech team up to cause trouble. If the two of them are suspiciously quiet and haven’t been seen in a while, Hunter has alarm bells going off in his head.

Seeing Tech and Crosshair together reminds Echo so much of himself and Fives when they were in the 501st.

Echo knew Crosshair and Tech were twins before anyone even told him.

Crosshair was one of those kids who held his breath until he got his way.

He was also one of those kids who would cry to the point of throwing up.

Omega is used by her brothers (mainly Crosshair or Wrecker) to convince everyone to get a treat or to have dessert before dinner.

Echo is always the first choice to be on the aux.

All of them were completely devastated after Wrecker’s injury, but showed it in different ways. Hunter became more withdrawn but also became extremely overprotective of his brothers after and continued to have nightmares of both the incident but also other instances in which his brothers could get hurt. Tech could not sleep and kept running over what had happened to see if he could have done anything differently or better to have prevented it from happening (he couldn’t have and that makes it worse in his mind). Crosshair could not stop crying and absolutely refused to leave Wrecker’s side to the point where the medics gave up on trying to remove or sedate him.

Wrecker used to be in charge of their meals before Echo came to live with them. Now they split the responsibility (not completely 50/50 though since they all prefer Echo’s cooking).

They used to eat like a bunch of college guys before Echo came to live with them.

Crosshair gets sick really easily.

Hunter pretty much never gets sick, but he does have really bad allergies.

Tech is a slutty drunk.

Hunter cannot sing for shit.

Hunter is permanently banned from cooking after not only setting the kitchen on fire, but also undercooking and burning the food and giving his brothers the worst food poisoning. This was all from the same incident.

Omega regularly calls her brothers (minus Echo) stinky.

She started this after hearing Echo calling them stinky.

Wrecker LOVES listening to space Kesha and space Katy Perry.

Wrecker only drinks fruity drinks. If it doesn’t taste like juice and have a little garnish, he doesn’t want it.

The only exception to this is beer.

Omega keeps her brothers humble. It’s actually her duty as a little sister. She once called Crosshair stinky and old on the same day.

Tech is the main one who can understand Crosshair when he gets into one of his moods. He is also the one who is able to explain what’s going on to the rest of the batch.

Feel free to add more! I love hearing everyone’s headcanons 😊 I will also be posting more this is a threat

[banzaitaka]

Hi there! Can I request some headcanons for the Obey me brothers where their boyfriend is a fallen angel (He fell before they did)? Their bf has a similar personality to Grell from black butler and they love that their job is to make sure sinners safely make it to the devildom (That job part isn't that important I just thought it could be a fun detail). Or maybe a jjk Oneshot on Gojo just taking in this little boy who doesn't like him all that much but eventually warms up to him?

Thank you in advance if you decide to write either one, and if you don't it's fine.

Stay safe, remember to drink water and eat some food! Love your work <3

---

...Being taken in by Satoru...and...Megumi is there too...Dad Satoru and brother Megumi??? Pls- I WANT THIS TO HAPPEN

Actually, I might make reader Megumi's brother so that I don't have to wreck my brain over a different bg story

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading!

Tips are very welcome!

Satoru Gojo x male! reader

Warming

To say their relationship started off as rocky would be a massive understatement. No matter what Satoru did, the younger Fushiguro brother refused to acknowledge his existence, and in those rare moments he does, a glare way too strong for a boy that age was all he was willing to share. Satoru still saw those moments as an accomplishment. Sure, at least an indifferent expression would’ve been a bit nicer, but he couldn’t help but giggle every time the boy burned holes into him with his eyes.

The only time this kind of behaviour was slightly problematic was when there had to be some kind of communication between the two. Megumi certainly didn’t exactly have the energy to repeat everything the silver haired had said, so his little brother could reply to him instead of to the sorcerer. And since (Y/N) had to live under the same roof as Satoru, without either of his siblings, and won’t be able to move out anytime soon because of his age, exchanging a few words was going to be necessary. Not only to make things way easier, but also to better their relationship.

As much as Megumi would've liked to, and actually tried to, he couldn’t be the only person (Y/N) could depend on. Megumi was older, but still at a young age himself. And being his family doesn’t mean he has to bear the responsibility of raising him, and taking care of him like a parent did. That was exactly what Satoru was there for. But the distrust (Y/N) had towards him was really getting in the way.

No one blamed him for that though, it was absolutely understandable, some might even say expected, behaviour of the boy, considering what he had gone through.

But, again, in order to make life easier for all three of them, a change needed to happen. Not immediately, nothing massive. There was hope it would be enough for (Y/N) to come to Satoru when he needed help with little things, and when he was feeling unwell in one way or another. Whenever Megumi was absent, which was often, (Y/N) would get himself in danger quite regularly. For example, trying to climb onto the counter to reach dishes on the top shelves, trying to work sharp or other not child-friendly objects, never telling whenever he got a stomachache, felt dizzy, etc.

Despite Satoru catching on a lot of times, it was neither a 100% success rate, nor necessary work. It has become quite exhausting overtime. The sorcerer had determination to crack that thick wall between the two.

"(Y/NNNNNN)~", the sorcerer’s voice was as cheerful and obnoxious as ever as he peeked his head through the door; the door to the room (Y/N) got to call his own. The door he wished he could lock sometimes. Only sometimes, though. His feelings for Satoru weren’t as bad as to want to lock him out. The boy spared him a glance from out of the corner of his eyes as he sat on the ground with his new Lego set he got. From Satoru, to be quite exact. As soon as the man found out about his passion for building things (he had watched him build walls and castles out of everything he could stack, multiple times) he made sure to make use of that rather valuable information. Every once in a while he would bring home a small Lego packet or box for the boy to play with. And on a rarer occasion, he‘d buy a much larger set.

Some would say Satoru was spoiling (Y/N) with all those gifts, in actuality it was a peace offering, a gesture to show he could be trusted. “Like giving an animal food until it let‘s you pat it.“, maybe not exactly the best comparison, but those were his words as he explained his actions. Trust issues were not unfamiliar to the male, and this approach was but one out of multiple he was going to try to have (Y/N) open up wide enough.

“You like the new addition to your collection?“, he sat down next to the other, eyeing his current project; a castle. It certainly was bigger than the sorcerer expected it to be, but that was by no means a bad thing. Actually quite the opposite. “Yeah.“, a short and simple response, though it showcases the progress the two of them made. “I‘m glad you do! Because I picked this one up at the store today.“, the young adult grinned, dangling a tiny box in front of the boy by the hook attached to the top. A mini set containing a prince and a horse, it seemed by looking at the big picture.

Satoru could practically see (Y/N)‘s eyes sparkling, dropping the gift into his awaiting hands. He watched him fumble the box open and emptying it at his feet on the floor. The sight of how he pushed all the pieces together in an excitement induced hurry warmed his heart in a way. And once (Y/N) then took the prince figure and put it in one of the towers, sending him a mischievous smirk as he pulled at a piece, activating a mechanism that made the figure fall through the ground…accompanied by that sweet, hearty laugh…Satoru couldn’t help but squeal at the cute display, pulling the boy to his chest, unbothered by the small fists hitting him in his sides and the displeased whines he received in return, “Ahhhhhh! That was adorable! This was the first time I heard you laugh and not glare at me as if you wanted me dead!“

Surprisingly enough, the hitting soon died down, and the whining was replaced by soft breathing. Leaning against the older one, (Y/N) wondered; Was Satoru always this warm?

[howtodrawyourdragon]

12 Days of Christmas 2024 Day 5

Snoggletog Cookies

Summary: Modern AU. Astrid tried to bake Snoggletog Cookies.

Warnings: /

Rating: General

Words: 440

Prompt: Cookies, Holiday-theme contest, "That definitely looks… interesting?"

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Author’s Notes: Unedited, but it was fun to write.

Enjoy!

-XOXOX-

Ever since she was a teenager, Astrid has found a love for experimenting with food. This year’s Snoggletog, she tries her hand at baking.

“That definitely looks… interesting,” Hiccup tells her as they both look down at her first batch of cookies that just came out of the oven. They were supposed to be dragons with little winter hats and scarves, but she may have been a little bit too ambitious in her project as they look nothing like what she put into the oven some time ago. At least her first try didn’t come out burned, he supposes.

With a huff, Astrid throws her oven mitts down. They’re patterned with blue squares, his are cartoony Night Fury hea ds that he designed and made himself.

“I don’t know what happened, they looked good before!” Astrid is more than disappointed. Hiccup makes a noise, one that she really doesn’t like to hear, because it’s accompanied with a slow shrug of his shoulders. It means he might have an idea what messed up her cookies and made them rise and warp beyond recognition.

Resting one fist on her hips and leaning with her other hand on the kitchen counter, she faces him. “Do you think you can do better?”

Now the gremlin inside of him wants to sna rk that, of course, he thinks he can do a better job than her, but that’s not what she needs to hear right now.

“What? No! No, that’s not what I-”

“Oh, you can’t fool me, Haddock. I know every sound you make and that one said,” and there the nasal impression comes. “Well, if you used 10% less egg, you wouldn’t have this problem!”

“I do not sound like that!” Hiccup is offended, his nasal voice matching her high pitch perfectly as he voices his displeasure.

“You 100% do!” Astrid is quick to defend herself, her Hiccup impression is perfect.

Upon having his honor disgraced, Hiccup grabs his apron off th e hook and wears it. “Okay, I get it, Missy. You want me to show you how Snoggletog cookies are made? Because I’ll show you exactly how they’re made!”

“Is that a challenge?” Astrid straightens before putting both hands on her hips. Whether it is one or not, she’s already determined not to back down. As a matter of fact, she’s certain of her victory.

“This is a fight you started!”

“And a fight you’ll lose!”

Needless to say, their kitchen ended up a mess of flour and glaze and Hiccup and Astrid had more cookies than they knew what to do with. There was no winner.

[shingekinosimpson]

You Had Me At B Minor: Chapter 13

First | Previous

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x Marco Bodt

Other relationships: Reibert, Springles, Historia x Ymir, Levi x Hange, a smidge of Jearmin

Rating: Mature

Summary: Jean's band needs a new bass player. Cue freckled Jesus.

Warnings/tags: Long fic, slow burn, Jean POV, friends to lovers, British AU with cannon locations, northern Jean, Unsigned band AU, nonbinary Armin, I promise there will be smut eventually! drinking, mentions of death, descriptions of domestic violence, panic attacks, see start of each chapter for more specific trigger warnings

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

Trigger warnings: n/a

Who am I, darling to you? Who am I? Going to tell you stories of mine Who am I?

Oh, who am I, darling for you? Who am I? Could be a burden in time, lonely Who am I, to you?

And who am I, darling for you? Who am I? Will be a burden Who am I, darling to you? Who am I?

“I got the job!”

“Wh-what??”

“I got the job!!”

“Yes!! Shit that’s amazing, I knew you would!”

“I didn’t! I thought my lesson went a bit wrong but they said I had lots of good things in there and they really liked how I was with the kids and…fuck. I can’t believe I actually got it!”

God I could listen to his voice all day.

I may not have seen Marco as much as I would like this week – nowhere near as much – but I’ve heard that voice plenty. So much so that I swear I can hear the difference between a small smile and a big smile. And let me tell you, that is a wide-ass fucking grin Marco is sporting right now.

Probably matches the one I’m wearing. I’m so fucking pleased for him. The number of times this poor guy’s rang me this week in a total stress and in need of a distraction has almost reached double figures. Not that I mind in the slightest. Although it was pretty eye-opening finding out how much pressure Marco puts on himself, how desperately he wants a steady job so he can give more support to his mam and sister. Even though I’m sure they’d be the first to tell him not to worry. It's a big relief knowing he can stop stressing so much now.

“I’m so fucking happy for you. What did your mam say when you told her? Did she scream in Italian like you said?”

“I haven’t told her yet. I literally just got off the phone with the head teacher. She probably will though.”

“…So…am I the first person you’ve told?”

“Erm, yeah,” he chuckles. “I guess.” It’s a good job I’m sitting down, otherwise that information might’ve floored me. A flush of heat rushes over my cheeks and chest and I grip my phone a little tighter, coyly chewing my lip. He just landed a permanent job and the first thing he does is ring me.

“I mean, you did say to ring you as soon as I heard,” Marco adds.

“Damn right I did!”

“Though now you mention it, I probably should give my mum a ring,” he says with a nervous laugh.

“Probably. I’ll speak to you later though yeah?”

“Yeah okay. Later then.”

“Later. And well done again. You’re gonna be amazing I know it.”

“O-okay.” That’s definitely his blushing voice. “Speak soon.”

As soon as he hangs up, I start typing a message.

HeresJeany:

By the way I am 100% taking you out for food tomorrow to celebrate! :P

He still hasn’t taken up my offer from last week, with him being so busy and all. I hope he doesn’t already have plans.

_________________________________

I've just chucked some chips and fish fingers in the oven (I can't be arsed to cook a proper meal) when my phone starts to ring, the picture of me and Marco where I look like a pineapple flashing up on the screen.

“It's like you knew I was making a fish finger sandwich. Well the answer is no, you can't have any.”

“Aw not even a bite?” he asks, snickering at my blunt greeting.

“Nope. All for me.”

He hums through another chuckle before speaking. “Soooo about food tomorrow. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Err, both I guess?” Okay, I know we're going away to Dauper in like, two days, but I'll still be gutted if he's not free for food. I am seriously craving some Marco time, especially after how touchy-feely he was the last time we hung out together. “What's up?"

“So the good news is we can have food tomorrow.”

Phew!

“Bad news is my mum is going all out cooking a family meal and she is absolutely insisting that you join us.”

What?

“Which basically means you don't have a choice.”

“Err...okay?”

The tips of my ears prickle with nervous energy. Family dinners always fill me with a sense of dread, especially since that disastrous one with Hitch a couple of years ago. I know there's no way Marco's family would be like them, and I've already met Mia but still, there's a formality to these things that sets me on edge.

“You sure? You don't actually have to I was only kidding…but my mum is really keen to meet my friends and... I’d really like it if you came.”

Oh fuck. His voice sounded really adorable there.

“N-no that sounds great! Tell her thanks for the invite that's really nice of her. So erm, what time should I come over?”

“Is six okay?”

“Yeah fine. Do you want me to bring anything or...Oh what do I need to wear? Do I need to wear something smart?”

He barks a laugh at that question. “No absolutely not. Wear anything you like. Though maybe don't risk the Moomin Vans or I might steal them.”

“Haha, okay.”

“Okay. I'll let you get back to your fish fingers.” His voice sounds so gorgeous I kind of don't want him to. “Speak to you later.”

“Okay later then. Bye.”

“Bye Jean.”

_________________________________

I pull the handbrake and toot the horn when I get to Marco's. After finding out he was planning to get the bus, I absolutely insisted on picking him up.

Butterflies are already starting to flip in my stomach in anticipation of seeing him. On one hand, I cannot wait to hang out with him again (it’s pretty much all I’ve thought about the last few days), but I won’t lie, the coward in me wants to run for the hills.

Last weekend was just so…I don’t even know how to describe it. I still have to pinch myself whenever I think about it. The way he was with me felt different. All the touching and blushing. There was just so much fucking joy in his eyes and in his laugh and I felt like I was a big part of that…maybe even the cause of that.

There have been moments when I’ve felt certain of that fact, to the point where I daydream telling him how I feel – what I’ll say, where I’ll say it, what he might say back…But then there have been other moments…moments where I’ve imagined Marco pulling away from me, backtracking on his affections and playing it all off as a bit of fun or drunken silliness…

The front door opens and I look over, my stomach landing with a ker-thump…

Wait, what the actual fuck???

I roll the window down as fast as I can while my eyes start bugging out of my head. “Marco what the hell!?”

WHY?? Why is he wearing a blazer with a fucking shirt and tie!?

He turns to me looking perplexed. “What?”

“What d'you mean 'WHAT'? Why are you dressed like that? You said I didn't have to dress up!”

“I’m not dressed up. I’m just dressed for a family meal. I thought it was obvious you needed to dress like this,” he says sounding a bit hurt.

“Of course it's not obvious! Why do you think I asked!? Shit, I need to go home and get changed. I don't even know if-”

Marco doubles over and starts howling with laughter.

“Oh my god,” he chokes with his hands on his knees. “Your face! Could you be anymore freaked out?”

He descends into wheezy chuckles again holding his stomach.

“Oh my god. You bastard.”

“I'm sorry. I just thought it was cute when you asked about wearing something smart and I couldn't resist.”

My grumpiness can't help but lessen at the word ‘cute’. Not to mention how cute he looks giggling away at me.

“I'll go get changed. Two seconds,” he says turning back.

That little shit. As if he actually came out dressed like that just to mess with me. At least I get a nice view of his arse in smart pants and his nipped in waist as I watch him retreat.

“If you don't come down here looking like a hobo, I'm gonna be seriously pissed!”

I’m treated to one more cheeky smile as he closes the door. My smile stretches so wide my cheeks ache. Fuck. I like him so much.

When he returns, he's definitely dressed way down compared to before but that does nothing to stop my butterflies making themselves known again, twirling and somersaulting like they’re caught in a tornado. He's wearing ripped black skinny jeans and a grey Superdry hoody. That's it. That's literally it. But christ does he look fucking sexy. His thighs and his shoulders and oh my god he just turned to lock the door and look at his arse nnggghhhhh!!

“Better?” he asks with a sunshine smile as he practically skips towards the car.

“Much better,” I answer honestly.

He buckles up and we set off with only ten minutes to spare.

“I am absolutely blaming you if we’re late,” I huff.

“We won't be late. Why are you getting so stressed?” Marco asks with an amused look.

“Because I don't want to make a shit impression.”

“You're really that bothered?”

“Of course I am, they're your family.”

There's a weight to those words I wish wasn't there. Marco considers me from the passenger seat, a warm smile on his face. I don’t realise I’m holding my breath until he speaks.

“You've got nothing to worry about Jean. My family likes you plenty.”

“I've only met Mia remember? Your family don't know me.”

“Okay but they know of you. How you helped out with Mia, how you've helped me...” He looks down at his lap with a blush, picking at the threads near his exposed knee. “My mum's been pestering me to bring you over for a while.”

“She has?”

“Well yeah, I talk about you all the time and she wants to meet-” He stops to clear his throat, brow furrowed. “I mean, she knows how you helped me find Mia that time so, yeah...like I said you've got nothing to worry about, so can you please calm your tits?”

My ears flush hearing he's talked about me with his mam, and all good things by the sound of it. I chew my lip around the huge smile trying to burst across my face, not wanting to look like a complete dork.

“Okay. Calm tiddies from now on. I promise.”

I let the smile out anyway and Marco mirrors it.

To my great relief we’re not super late, arriving one minute after six to be precise. I’m sure with some parents that would result in a passive aggressive comment or just an outright scolding when they answer the door. That is absolutely not what happens when Marco’s mam welcomes us.

“Marcorsetto! Come here my baby boy! Mwah, mwah, mwah!”

Marco’s mam can’t be much over five foot but that doesn’t stop her from pulling his face down for some serious smooches.

Not gonna lie - it’s adorable. She reminds me of Connie’s mam and I instantly like her.

Fuck, I hope she likes me.

She cups Marco’s cheeks with a big smile and then turns to me. “Jean! I’m Gianna. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

I’m a little (a lot) unprepared for the huge hug I find myself in. The air in my lungs leaves me with an oof but I quickly recover with a chuckle.

“You too! Thanks for inviting me.”

“Oooh molto bello!” she says over my shoulder, making Marco turn crimson.

“Mum!!”

“Hahaha! Come in! Come in! Help yourselves to slippers if you like!” she says disappearing down the passage towards the kitchen.

“Marcorsetto?” I ask, toeing off my shoes.

“Orsetto means ‘little bear’ in Italian.”

“Okay that might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Marco slides on some fluffy bunny slippers but I opt for the far more sensible tartan pair. I follow him down the hall towards the kitchen, where a number of voices are chatting animatedly.

“How in the hell? That one’s rigged. It must be!” says a gruff voice.

“It’s not! Here you bloody well use it!”

Opening the door, two things come into focus. The first thing is all the noise – laughter mostly, accompanied by something sizzling loudly on the hob and a classic disco tune dancing out of the radio in the corner. The second thing is the incredible smell. A mix of garlic and onion and herbs and other delicious things I can’t quite put my finger on.

I feel my stomach grumble, like it knows it’s in for a good time.

“Hello bonny lad!” says a stocky man with slightly greying, light brown hair.

He rises from his seat to give Marco a quick hug. The lady next to him – a dead-ringer for Marco’s mam – also stands, her eyes soft when she pulls Marco towards her.

“Hello Marco sweetheart!”

“Hi! You both okay?”

They nod and hum, both throwing a smile and a sideways glance in my direction.

“This is my friend Jean,” Marco beams making my stomach flip. “Jean, this is my Uncle Dave and Aunty Maxine.”

“Good to meet you son!” Uncle Dave smiles giving my hand a warm shake.

“Call me Max,” his Aunty replies, slipping a delicate hand in mine for a moment.

I greet them both in turn and take a seat next to Mia, offering her a quick ‘hi’. She quietly returns it, giving me what I think is a genuine smile before looking up at her Uncle Dave.

“C’mon then! You’ve got the rigged one so you shouldn’t have a problem now.”

Dave gives a hearty laugh, holding a small red counter between thumb and forefinger.

“Oh jeez,” Marco moans. “Tiddlywinks again Dave? You know she can’t be beaten.”

That explains the random assortment of things on the table – a red cup, counters of different colours and sizes and a few small, plastic animals - the kind you’d get in a Christmas cracker.

“Right then, this is the one I can feel it,” Dave smirks.

He presses the edge of his counter to another and it pings across the table, missing the red cup by quite a margin.

“Bollocks,” Dave grumbles, causing everyone to laugh. “Haway boys see if you can beat her. An entire pound coin is riding on this game!”

Marco grabs a small plastic spider with a weird tab sticking out of its arse. He presses his finger to the tab and the spider jumps forward, grazing the edge of the red cup before landing on the table.

“Oh, so close! C’mon Jean, see if you can get one in,” Maxine says excitedly.

I consider the options before me.

“I’ll try my luck with Mr Froggy I guess.”

I grab the green plastic frog and place it in front of me, deciding the best angle. I notice Marco and Mia sharing a smile but think nothing of it…

“JESUS!”

…Until the plastic frog flies a fucking mile and they both burst out laughing.

“Oh god I’m so sorry!”

The fucking frog has flown over to the kitchen bench and plopped right into the fucking salad bowl. I jump up and rush over to pick it out, muttering a million apologies to Gianna.

She laughs warmly, grabbing it before I get the chance. “It’s fine Jean darling don’t panic. You two!” she snaps, throwing the frog in Marco and Mia’s general direction. “You could have warned the poor boy!”

Marco gets his giggles under control and pats me on the shoulder when I sit down. “Sorry. The frog is notoriously hard to control. It always goes flying no matter how softly you try to do it.”

“And you just let me choose it without saying anything! Some friend you are,” I say shoving him in the shoulder.

“Wicked boy,” Gianna smiles, swatting Marco with a tea towel.

“He’s a menace!” I laugh. “Have you heard what he did to me when I picked him up?”

I tell the tale of Marco winding me up with his bloody suit, much to the amusement of everyone else.

“Oh Marco you are awful!” Gianna says with a laugh. “Right clear the table then. This will be ready soon. Marco darling, can you grab the bread from the oven? Mia, help me with the plates, would you sweetie?”

“Anything I can do to help?” I ask.

“No Jean darling you’re our guest! You just relax,” Gianna insists.

“Can I tempt you with some wine Jean?” Maxine asks, pouring herself a glass of red.

“Oh, yes please. Just a small one though. I’m driving.”

Plates and bowls start appearing on the table – bread fresh from the oven and oil for dipping, tomatoes and mozzarella, and something else I’m not quite sure of.

“Wow. This looks amazing. Is that hummus?”

“It’s mashed cannellini beans with garlic and a bit of lemon,” Gianna smiles. “Here, try it on some bread, it’s delicious!”

Literally everything is delicious. Marco was right about his mam being an amazing cook. And I can’t believe all this is just the starter. Everyone quietens during the first part of the meal, enjoying the food too much to bother with conversation, but it soon picks back up again when the last few bits disappear from our plates.

Dave and Maxine have plenty of questions for Marco about his new job. He gets so enthusiastic talking about all the ideas he has for his new class. It’s nice listening to him interact with Dave and Maxine – he’s clearly very fond of them and I can tell they have a lot of love for him too. They both come across as genuinely lovely people and it warms my heart to know that, despite his past, Marco has a loving family he can rely on.

“Alright dig in everyone!” Gianna smiles after presenting us with the main course – mushroom risotto.

“Mmm, wow, this is really good,” I mumble around a mouthful of heaven.

It is literally the best mushroom risotto I’ve ever tasted in my life. I’m not even that into mushroom risotto, but I would happily have this one every day of the week.

“Thank you dear! You can come back anytime,” Gianna replies with a wink.

Now I see where Marco gets his cheeky nature from.

“How’s the band going Marco?” Maxine asks after we’ve all been tucking in for a while. “Your mum was telling me you’ve had a couple of gigs.”

“Yeah, good thanks,” he says scratching his neck. “I’ve managed to remember most of the songs so far, so that’s good.”

Like hell am I gonna sit here and let him be so modest.

“He’s doing more than good. Your nephew is one seriously talented man,” I say, more to Marco than Maxine.

“A seriously talented man you say!” Maxine beams.

“He’s overexaggerating,” Marco smiles, nudging my shoulder and blushing prettily.

“I’m definitely not! None of us can believe our luck he joined. We’ve never sounded better.”

Marco’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of red but I just smile. I’m only telling the truth after all.

“Aww how lovely! My clever boy,” Gianna gushes, smooching the top of his head as she gets up to grab another bottle of wine.

“Well that’s good to know…because I have a bit of a proposition for you boys,” Maxine grins. “You know your cousin Sara’s wedding is coming up? In June?”

“Yeah,” Marco replies.

“Well the band they booked for the evening have cancelled. Would you boys be interested? No pressure but I said I’d ask.”

“You guys have done weddings before right?” Marco asks, turning to me.

“Yeah, we have. They’ve always been a good laugh.”

“I’ve no idea what songs they’d like but if you send her a message on Facebook, I’m sure she’ll be happy to give you the details,” Maxine continues.

“Okay I’ll get in touch with her. What do you reckon Jean? Will Connie and Eren be interested?”

“I’m sure they would be up for it. Hey, maybe by June I’ll have finally convinced you to start singing,” I grin.

“Doubtful,” he smiles, rolling his eyes at me.

“Thank you!” Mia suddenly pipes up, gesturing at me. “See Marco, how many times have I said you should be singing?”

“He’s got a good voice, hasn’t he?” I say to Mia. Good to know I’m not the only one who’s told him so.

“Yeah! He always used to beat me on Singstar. He’s well good.”

“Oh, what was that song you used to sing so beautifully together?” Gianna ponders. “The ‘hold on for one more day’ song.”

“Ah, Wilson Phillips,” Mia answers.

“Yes! Oh I used to love it when you sang that together.”

“Well, maybe Sara will want it at the wedding if Marco’s that good!” Dave laughs.

“Listen if you heard this guy sing,” Marco says gesturing to me, “you wouldn’t be praising my singing abilities.”

I’m almost derailed by his compliment but I power through. “There’s always room for more singers in the band Marco, and we’d be daft not to make use of your voice from time to time.”

He hums, wilting under my and Mia’s staring. “I’ll think about it.”

“You bloody better,” Mia mumbles, smirking at Marco.

Gianna gets up starts clearing the table, asking Maxine a million questions about the wedding as she places our dishes in the sink. Marco makes a start on washing them and Mia soon gets up to help him dry. They speak in hushed voices as they work side by side so I can’t hear what they’re saying, but at one point Marco grabs the tea towel out of Mia’s hand and slaps her playfully on the head with it.

Then dessert starts appearing on the table – chocolate ganache with shortbread, strawberries and orange segments to share. I wasn’t sure I’d want any dessert after the filling risotto but oh man does it look good. Gianna recommends smoothing some ganache onto the shortbread and topping it with an orange segment so I go for that first.

Marco smiles when I hum contentedly. “It’s good right?”

“Sooo good.”

“I hear you’re heading off on holiday tomorrow boys,” Dave comments with a grin.

“Yeah. Our friend’s grandma is lending us her holiday cottage for the weekend,” Marco replies with a smile in my direction, making my ears prickle.

“Oh nice. Good friend to have. Just the two of you is it?” Dave beams.

“N-no,” Marco splutters turning red, which makes me turn red. Even more so when Mia tries to cover up her snort with a cough. “There’s about ten of us going.”

Marco takes a sip of water, so he doesn’t notice Maxine’s death glare or Dave bewilderedly mouthing ‘what!?’ It’s kind of funny actually, like seeing what Connie and Sasha will be like in 30 years.

“Whereabouts is the cottage you’re all staying in?” Maxine asks, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Dauper,” Marco replies.

“Ooooh lovely! Gorgeous part of the world Dauper. We’ve been a couple of times. Have you ever been Jean?”

“No. Looking forward to it though. The dark skies are meant to be great there.”

“Oh yes, the night sky is beautiful in that area! Oh Dave, what was the name of that pub? The one where you had that gorgeous trout…”

Dave and Maxine give us all their best tips for where to go and what to do. Hearing them talk about it so merrily gets me even more excited for the trip.

After practically licking my bowl clean, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. I find Katniss snoozing on the landing.

“Hey baby girl!”

She indulges me in some head scritches, before sleepily rolling over for some tummy love. I slip my phone out of my pocket to snap some cheeky pics, though my desperate need to pee stops it turning into a full photo shoot. I’ve just finished up in the bathroom and cracked open the door when I hear Dave’s voice downstairs in the hall.

“Max! C’mere I can’t find it.”

A few seconds later I hear Maxine. “You never bloody can despite it being right in front of your face! There! Look! In the front pocket like I said…I’ll bloody kill you for embarrassing Marco.”

“Wha-? How’s it embarrassing to ask if you’re going on holiday with your boyfriend?”

“They’re not boyfriends!” Max whispers exasperatedly.

“I thought Gianna said they were?”

“No! They’re just friends!”

“Oh bloody hell. Put my foot right in it there then,” Dave grumbles.

“Gianna said she thought they might become boyfriends. She says Marco talks about him all the time.”

“Oh yeah, that was it…Well you can see why I thought they were already an item. They’d make a lovely couple wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah…a right handsome pair. Oh, I hope they do. Jean seems so lovely.”

I’ve literally frozen to the spot. I dare not move, or even breathe for that matter.

As if I’ve got Marco’s flesh and blood rooting for me! Holy shit!

I couldn’t help but wonder what Gianna thought when Marco let slip he talks to her about me. At worst, I thought she might be wary of me hurting him like so many others before. At best, I hoped she’d be grateful Marco had found a good friend. To hear she thinks there might be something more than friendship though…I’m just…Gyaahhh!!!

Worrying my absence might start to become suspicious, I close the bathroom door loud enough to make my presence known and head down the stairs. Dave and Max quickly hush up at the sound.

“Alright dear?” Maxine smiles.

“Just grabbing my insulin pen! Needed a bit of a top-up after helping myself to too much dessert!” Dave laughs.

I smile widely; I really can’t help it after what I’ve just heard. “Bet it was worth it though. That chocolate ganache was insane.”

“Bloody gorgeou-”

A series of giggles and a surge in volume makes us all turn our heads towards the kitchen. We share an inquisitive smirk, heading to investigate what’s so funny.

The three Bodts are dancing up a storm around the kitchen table. Marco’s toing and froing between his mam and Mia, waltzing and spinning them as they sing along to George Michael and Aretha Franklin.

Maxine and Dave both laugh and smile but my lips only twitch slightly. My smile is soft and tender as a bittersweet tug in my stomach sends warmth throughout my body. I was right when I said Connie, Eren and I were lucky to have found such a talented bassist, but the bigger truth of how lucky I am to have found Marco fills me to the brim as I watch him laugh and smile.

He looks radiant and just…impossibly beautiful.

“Show them how it’s done Maxy!”

Dave takes hold of Maxine and they begin to sway back and forth. After a few beats, they break apart and grab a hold of the nearest person – Mia and Gianna – and start dancing with them.

Emboldened by Dave and Maxine’s earlier conversation, I take a step forward and sweep into Marco’s space, my fingers slipping into his palm as I lead him in a twirl. He chuckles and returns the favour, spinning me away and pulling me back. My hand finds a hold in the dip of his waist on instinct, and I rock him side to side, not caring one little bit for the goofy grin on my face or the glowing looks I get from Marco’s family.

And then he sings and the warm fuzzies in my chest increase tenfold.

“So we were draaaawwwn tooogether through destinyyyyyy…ooh boy. Ooh!

I know this loooove weeee share was meant to beeeee. Oh!

Knew you were waiting! WooOoooh, yeah!”

The rest of his family are singing too but I the only sound I hear is him. I beam and laugh at the way he hits the high notes, doing his best over-the-top popstar impression.

“Oh, when the valley was low. No, it didn't stop meeeee, no!

Knew you were waiting! Knew you were waiting for me!”

I’m giddy when he spins me away and tugs me back into his orbit. He laughs and something flashes in his eyes when they meet mine. He pulls me close enough to meet the warmth of his torso as the song draws to a close. Our embrace only lasts for a moment, but it leaves me lightheaded and breathless. I reach out a hand to steady myself on a chair as we all break apart.

“Always knew I’d married into a family of crackerjacks!” Dave chortles, giving Mia a quick tickle on her side before sitting down. ���Reckon me and Jean should run for the hills while we still have a chance!”

“I dunno,” I grin, taking my seat next to Marco. “Reckon the food is worth the craziness.”

“Ooooh you’re definitely allowed back again you little charmer!” Gianna coos, squidging my shoulders (to my absolute delight). “Phew! I need a brew after that. Shall I put a pot of tea on?”

Max helps Gianna sort out the cups and teapot while Mia and Dave start setting out the tiddlywinks again. I look at Marco with a coy smile, still a little dazed from the moment we shared.

“I promise we’re not always this mental,” he smiles quietly. “But now you know, if that song ever comes on the radio, it’s pretty much a given we’ll all drop everything and start dancing.”

“Fine by me. I love a good twirl around the kitchen now and then,” I smirk, resting my head on my hand.

It makes Marco blush for some reason, though maybe he's just flushing from all the dancing.

“Why that song?” I ask.

“Well my mum used to play it a lot when we were younger,” he starts, keeping his voice low, “but once it was the three of us, I noticed...when she played it, she started actually singing along with it. I’d never heard her sing before. So I started joining in and then eventually Mia did too and it kind of escalated from there.”

Once again, I'm in awe of Marco and his family. In awe of how they’ve found the strength to sing and laugh after everything they've endured. In awe of how much love and warmth they extend to everyone around them when they could so easily have closed themselves off. They're amazing.

“You fancy another round boys?” Dave asks, wiggling a tiddlywink in our direction. 

We stay another hour or so, sharing a few laughs and silly stories as all the delicious food settles in our stomachs.

After bidding the rest of Marco's family goodbye, his mam follows us to the door to see us out.

“You will come again won’t you Jean?”

“I’m literally booking in for every Sunday! Can’t remember the last time I was so well fed,” I reply.

“Oh you’re more than welcome dear. Thank you so much for coming.”

She pulls me into a squishy hug and then turns to Marco, pulling him down to reach her.

“Love you baby boy. Have the best time this weekend okay? You deserve it sweetheart.”

“Love you. I will, don’t worry,” he says with a sleepy smile, resting his head on her shoulder a moment.

Too cute.

“Drive safe Jean okay?” Gianna smiles.

“I will. Gotta get this precious cargo there in one piece,” I grin, giving Marco a playful squeeze on the shoulders.

I run around to the driver’s side as Marco slumps into the passenger seat. We bid Gianna another farewell and pull out into the road. Marco settles back with a contented sigh, gazing sleepily out the window.

“...I really like your family,” I say after a moment.

Marco's gaze jerks towards me, a look of surprise on his face, but it quickly softens into a smile.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I like them too.”

“I can't believe how much your Aunty Max looks like your mam!”

“I know. Apparently they'd always get mistaken for twins when they were kids.”

Marco tells me more about his aunty and uncle during the drive; the shenanigans Dave gets up to at family parties and the jumpers Max makes for them every Christmas.

We pull up outside Marco’s much sooner than I would like. Luckily he doesn't seem to notice, continuing his story about the time Dave ended up in A&E, after losing a fight with a goose that took a disliking to him.

We giggle and laugh with our heads resting against the back of our seats, our general sleepiness starting to take over.

He looks over at the front door and sighs. “Guess I should head in,” he says with a sad smile, unbuckling his seat belt. “Thanks again for the lift.”

“Anytime.”

I pause. Secretly hoping he invites me in to hang out. I know he won't though. It's late and we've got a long drive tomorrow...Still though.

“So erm, d'you..?” he starts and I hold my breath.

“Do you...still wanna pick us up at eleven tomorrow?”

“Oh. Erm...yeah 'course. Eleven still works for me.”

I make a point of ignoring the disappointment I feel in the pit of my stomach.

“Okay cool,” he says climbing out of the car. It feels like he has something else to say. “See you tomorrow then. Drive home safe.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” I reply, trying to work out what expression I can see in his features, but it changes into a sweet smile before I get the chance.

He turns with a wave of his hand and I release a pent-up breath. My chest and stomach twist as I watch him head inside. It's not exactly an unpleasant feeling though.

I replay so many parts of this evening in my head on the drive home, but when my head finally hits the pillow, it's the voice of Dave that sends me to sleep with a smile.

'They'd make a lovely couple wouldn’t they?'

_________________________________

Connie helps me load up the car before waving me off (with an actual fucking hanky he got from god knows where) with an obnoxiously loud 'Farewell my beloved!'

Due to a couple of other people booking time off, there was absolutely no way Connie could get away from work before 8pm tonight, so he's joining us later. I feel bad knowing he’ll be on his own for the journey. I would have offered to go with him but that would have meant making Eren and Marco late too and it seemed silly not to make the most of our stay.

I park my car outside Eren and Marco’s and give the horn a quick toot, rolling the window down so I can lean on my elbow while I wait. My phone beeps after less than a minute. I’m expecting something silly from Marco but it’s from Eren.

Jaegermeister:

Good fucking luck

What the hell?

HeresJeany:

???????

Jaegermeister:

>:-)

Before I tap out another reply, the front door opens and the meaning behind Eren’s message becomes all too clear.

“Morning!” Marco says cheerfully.

He’s got his hair tied back again. A few wavy tendrils are escaping from where it’s loosely pulled back…It looks really fucking good.

“Hey you,” I smile, not really bothering to hide the affection in my tone.

“Good morning my favourite douche!” Eren squawks obnoxiously, appearing behind Marco with a shit-eating grin.

“Your smelly ass needs one!”

My reply doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

“You doing alright?” he asks with a knowing smirk I’m glad Marco can’t see.

I decide to ignore him, jumping out of the car to open the boot for Marco.

After loading up their bags, I connect my phone to the car stereo. It takes nearly three hours to get to Dauper, but the music I've put together for the journey is a veritable 90s/00s wet dream of a playlist so we’re in for a good time.

Marco catches my eye and smiles as he recognises the opening bars of Sabotage by the Beastie Boys surging through the speakers. I smirk back before checking on Eren.

"We all clunk-clicked back there?"

"Yes Mam."

"Right let's go then."

After our rendezvous with everyone at Sasha’s, we head off – Mikasa taking Sasha, Armin and Historia in one car with Bert and Reiner in the other. The busy streets of Trost gradually fall away as we make our way to the motorway. There's a buzz in the car that affirms just how excited we all are for the trip. Between sing-alongs, taking the piss out of shitty drivers and sniggering at weird place names, the journey goes by quickly. Even the heavy rain we hit half an hour in doesn’t dampen our spirits.

Marco is especially animated, twisting in his seat to laugh and joke or reaching forward to turn the music up every time of one his favourites comes on (which is often!). The whole car vibrates when Goon Squad by Deftones gets turned up a notch and we all sing (scream) the lyrics as we clear the last of the rain clouds.

“I feel like ‘Goon Squad’ would be a good name for us if we ever decide to become vigilantes and fight crime,” Eren says as the next song starts and we catch our breath.

“Maybe for you two,” I tease. “I think Captain Kirschtein and the Goon Squad sounds better though.”

“You fucking wish.”

“Hmm, I don’t think I know this one,” Marco says nodding at the stereo.

I cock an eyebrow at him as the persistent riff of Good Morning, Captain starts up again. “How can a total 90s dweeb like you not know Slint?”

He looks at me blankly. “Slint?”

“Oh my god. Spiderland? Are you kidding me?? Right, you need to listen to this song.”

Eren starts babbling away to Marco about the album and how the band originally wanted it to be instrumental, that is until I turn and smack him on the leg.

“Okay OW!”

“Well fucking shut up! You can tell him when the song’s over!”

Crashing cymbals and guttural guitars fill the car as Marco taps out the rhythm on his knee. When the song reaches its crescendo, he looks over at me.

“Oh man, I think I have a new band boner!”

I laugh, because it’s obviously a joke, but he says it with such a salacious grin that I blurt out, “Wait, seriously?”

All he does in reply is stick his tongue between his teeth and waggle his eyebrows at me.

Shit that’s hot.

I cover how flustered it makes me with a chuckle and focus on the road. My imagination starts running wild though, and I can’t help the way my gaze slides over to Marco’s crotch just to have a cheeky look.

“Saw that.”

My eyes snap up to Eren in the mirror.

“Saw what?” Marco asks, thankfully oblivious.

“You didn’t see shit Jaeger.”

He chuckles, very obviously pleased with catching me red-handed.

Despite all the singing and chatting, Eren still manages to conk out about two hours into the journey. Never in my life have I known this guy stay awake on a long car trip.

“Oh, man down,” Marco smiles quietly looking back at Eren.

My eyes flit up to the mirror and I see his reflection; slumped down into his hoody and gently rocking with the car’s movement. I turn the music down a little. I don’t really need to – Eren could sleep through the apocalypse – but Marco’s hushed voice makes me feel like I should.

After a few songs, I notice Marco glancing at me out of the corner of my eye, his mouth opening and closing as if he wants to say something. Eventually he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey I meant to ask…” he trails off, looking oddly awkward all of a sudden.

“Yeah?”

He scratches his neck and looks out of his window instead of at me.

“I know you and Connie are roomies but…I figured he might be sharing with Sasha so…I was thinking it might be nice if - I mean I don't know what the sleeping arrangements are at this place but," his eyes flit over to me as he babbles and stutters. "Do you...do you maybewannasharearoomwithme?”

Ba-dump.

I’ve thought about it. Obviously I've thought about where I might be sleeping - where he might be sleeping - but I figured people would just pair off when we got there and that Eren would somehow wingman me to make sure I share with Marco.

What I didn't think about was Marco just coming straight out and asking me!

Shit. How do I answer this without completely giving myself away or making it weird?

“E-Err,” I stammer, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“We don't have to!" he backtracks when I fail to answer. “If you've already arranged something with Eren or Armin or whoev-”

My determination not to screw this up brings confidence surging back to my voice in an instant. If he’s got the guts to ask me, there’s no way I’m going to ruin it by losing my cool.

“We can share a room.”

“…Yeah?” Marco asks with a slight tone of disbelief.

“Yeah ‘course we can share a room. It'll be fun,” I add with a big smile to show him I’m not just being polite.

“Okay...cool,” Marco replies.

The way he ducks his head to hide his own smile and blush makes me giddy, though that feeling is definitely coupled with weird mixture of nervousness and anticipation. My stomach starts flipping at the thought of what might be whispered and confessed in the dark, when we're wrapped in soft blankets and sleepiness has lifted our filters…

Then a short but incredibly loud snort from Eren snaps me back to the present. Marco and I both lock eyes before breaking into hysterics.

“What the hell!?” I laugh, with Marco wheezing beside me.

“Huh? Wha?” Eren murmurs, squinting at us with sleepy eyes and wiping the drool from his chin.

_________________________________

By late afternoon we reach Dauper. After staying within close range of each other on the motorway, we all manage to take the exit at the same time and follow Sasha’s car as it weaves its way along the narrow, grass-lined roads.

The higher we climb, the more beautiful the scenery becomes. The houses become less frequent and older in style, broken up by farmers’ fields, rolling hills and the occasional mill.

“Deer! Oh my god there’s deer in that field!” Marco says excitedly, causing Eren to press his face up at the window and gawk.

There’s so much wildlife here. Aside from the deer we also spot a huge flock of geese flying in a V-formation above us, a fox zipping across a field and we narrowly miss hitting a pheasant that thought it was a good idea to stand in the middle of the road.

After a couple of tight turns and an awkward encounter with a tractor, we pull onto the cobbled lane with the cottage at the end. The car judders and wobbles as we follow Sasha, with Bert and Reiner behind us. Eventually, we stop outside a stone building with blue pastel windows and a yellow door.

“Wow. This looks nice,” Marco says with bright eyes after we climb out of the car.

It really does.

Armin gasps from the open door of Sasha’s car, looking at the driveway. “How am I going to get to the door? My Vans are going to get ruined!”

The rain stopped over an hour ago, but it must’ve been especially heavy in Dauper if the puddles around us are anything to go by. My eyes travel down Armin’s all-black outfit to the new lilac Vans on their feet. Yep. Those kicks are gonna be fucked.

Marco chuckles beside me and asks, “Why are you wearing them for a trip to the countryside? I thought you were smart!”

“Typical bloody PhD student – all those brains and no common sense,” Eren grumbles heading in Armin’s direction.

“I’ve got sensible clothes in my bag! I just wanted to be comfy for the journey. Plus their cute as fuck,” Armin adds with a cheeky grin that makes me smile.

“Alright c’mere princess.”

Eren sweeps Armin off their feet, earning a loud laugh from Sasha and a whoop from Historia.

“Eren!” Armin cries with a smile.

“Do you want your shoes to get muddy or not?” He starts heading to the door and calls over his shoulder, “Can someone get my bags? Hands are a bit full of idiot here!”

“Yeah I got ‘em,” I laugh, bending over my seat to reach into the back.

When I straighten up, I feel eyes on me and turn to see Marco, a red blush blooming on his face as he quickly looks down.

Erm…?

“H-here, let me take the guitars for you,” he says reaching out his hand, still not meeting my eyes.

“Oh, thanks.”

Was he…was he checking me out just now??

I walk around to the open boot, purposely (and unnecessarily) bending over again to get my own guitar.

“You threatening us with a good time Kirschtein?” Reiner barks behind us, laughing as he walks past with Bert in tow.

“You wish!” I yell as I dig around in the boot.

I look back at Marco with a sly grin, straightening up to give him mine and Eren’s guitars, but keeping my back arched so my ass sticks out.

“Here you go,” I say, my tongue poking slightly between my teeth.

“Thanks,” he replies, ducking his head with a smirk, the blush on his cheeks intensifying.

Excitement sparks through me as I watch him walk away. As if I just flirted with him! And he didn’t seem to mind!

I follow him along the yellow gravel path, lined with daisies and bluebells. The back door opens straight onto the kitchen, which is an impressive mix of exposed stone, patterned tiles and rich blue cabinets. My eyes follow the old, wooden beams across the ceiling, down to a large dining table at the opposite end.

“Woah. This place is stunning!” Marco chirps, turning in a slow circle as he takes it all in.

Cute.

He cranes his head to look up the staircase beside the back door.

“Should we put our bags in a room or-”

“Guys come see how cosy the living room is!” Armin yells, appearing in the doorway opposite us.

They reach forward and grab Marco’s hand before we’ve even had a chance to reply, dragging him through the door. I follow them both with a smile.

Wow. It certainly is cosy in here, though way bigger than I was expecting; they must have knocked down a wall down at some point. There are rugs all over the floor, cushions and throws all over the furniture and bookshelves all over the walls. Aside from the TV mounted on the wall, everything has a comforting, old-timey feel to it. The beams across the ceiling match the ones in the kitchen, but there’s no exposed stone from what I can see. Instead, a rich navy colour covers the walls.

Everyone’s in the living room now, except Sasha, but she soon makes her presence known.

“Hey guys?” she calls from the kitchen.

“Yeaaah?” a few of us reply.

She appears in the doorway with a look that spells ‘trouble’.

“Bedrooms are first come first serve and I may have forgot to mention, some are waaay nicer than others…Bagsie the master bedroom!” she cries racing off.

Everyone silently glances at each other before bursting into action. There’s a massive crush as we all try to fit through the doorway at once. Thankfully I hadn’t sat down yet so I get through quickly, heading for the staircase just ahead of everyone else.

I’ll get us a good room Marco don’t you wor- “Ahh!!”

Someone pulls my ankle and I land flat on the stairs. I look up to see Mikasa long-jumping over me and racing up the rest of the steps.

“Go Kasa!” Armin shouts somewhere behind me.

I try to get my legs back under me before I’m trampled. Luckily, the next thing I feel is a pair of warm hands hooking under my arms and lifting me up.

“Man down!” Marco laughs. “C’mon Jean we can do thi- Ahhh!”

Marco collapses on top of me as Eren scrambles over both of us.

“Eren! You fucking tool! Mikasa’s already won you a room!” I squawk.

Someone else tries to get passed us but Marco gets up before they manage it.

“Not so fast Bertie boy!” Marco cries, blocking Bert’s path. “Go on Jean! Go!”

I leave Marco to wrestle the giant and hop up the rest of the stairs two at a time. I dive left but quickly back up when I see the bunk beds against the wall – No fucking thank you! Footsteps thunder up the stairs so I take my chances with the first room on the right.

Oh thank fuck.

I hop up onto the double bed, claiming it as my own and more than willing to fight if anyone tries to take it from me.

Bert sticks his head in the door muttering a quick ‘shit’ when he sees me sitting on the bed. There’s a commotion further down hall. I really want to go look when I hear Sasha screaming ‘Mikasa! Put me down!’ but I dare not leave my spot.

“Bunk beds!? No fucking thank you!” Historia’s voice. I have an awful feeling about where this is going. “Haha! Give it up Kirschtein! This room is mine!”

She runs towards me, with a manic grin, trying to grab my legs so she can pull me off.

“No no no! Marco! Help!”

Historia and I both laugh and giggle as she tries to get a hold on me. I keep her at bay with the two pillows I’ve grabbed, just long enough for Marco to come in and save the day.

“Waahhh!”

Distracted by our battle for the bed, she doesn’t realise Marco’s behind her until he’s lifting her up over his shoulder.

“Oh no you don’t!” he laughs carrying her out as her little legs wiggle and kick.

He plops her on the floor, runs back inside and closes the door. I hop over to join him, both of us laughing as we brace ourselves, ready for someone to push it open. Luckily no one does and we slump down to the floor after a minute or two, our faces flushed from all the excitement.

“Seems like we’re safe for now,” I smile, leaning my head against the door.

“Yeah,” Marco replies taking in his surroundings. “Hey this room is pretty nice. Good job.”

It is now that I look at it. It’s not super big and the window doesn’t let much light in, but the peachy paint, wall tapestries and salt lamps create a really snug, mellow vibe.

“Aw look, they’re cute,” Marco says pointing up.

I smile at his reaction, looking up to see a dozen little crochet plant pots hanging from a wooden beam, woven flowers sitting inside each one. They do look very sweet all dangling there above the bed.

“My grandma used to crochet stuff for me, when she was alive,” I smile.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head to look at me.

“Yeah, lots of bonnets when I was a baby, then toys. She was really good at animals. I had a whole farmyard at one point. My favourite was Buchwald the horse.”

“Buchwald?” Marco laughs, his breath tickling my cheek.

“Yeah, she was half German and she often gave them German names. His mane was really cool. It was made of this thick but super soft wool or something. I used to like running my fingers through it.”

“Oh I had a toy I used to do that with! Mine was a lion though. Rory - you know because…lions roar.”

An unattractive snort escapes me and he chuckles softly, his eyes not just looking at me, but seeming to take in my whole face. I wish I had the willpower to stay where I am, but I get a little flustered at our close proximity and get up, grabbing one of the cushions and a throw that’s fallen off the bed as I go.

“You reckon it’s safe to get our bags now?” he asks.

“Maybe, don’t let your guard down completely though. Hey Marco, look at this.”

I’d never even heard of this book until Marco gave it to me so I don’t know what the chances are of finding another copy here of all places but there it is – What we see in the stars – the book Marco gifted me after our visit to Trost museum, sitting on the stone windowsill.

“Oh wow!” Marco says when he sees what I’m holding.

Butterflies start flipping in my stomach. He reaches out and I swear I feel it hum with energy or some shit when he takes it from me. My pulse quickens. He holds it with a soft smile, glancing at the other star themed trinkets on the windowsill.

“Weird. It’s like we were meant to have this room,” he says with an awkward laugh.

Asddfghhjkl!! I was thinking it, but I didn’t think he’d actually fucking say it!

I nervously laugh too, my face turning crimson.

“Haha, yeah. Maybe it’s a good omen for some stargazing tonight.”

Then as if to say, ‘we’ll see about that’ Mother Nature decides to fuck me over – the gentle pitter-patter outside turns into a downpour, hammering against the window.

“Well fuck.”

“Yeah. Looks like we’re staying in tonight.”

_________________________________

After unpacking, nobody is in the mood to brave the rain for the sake of the pub, so we decide to have a night in; everyone’s brought some food for a buffet anyway. I have a quick shower, stick my comfy clothes on and then head downstairs to join everyone.

Eren and Armin are gathered around the woodburning fireplace, constructing a pile of logs and kindling. There’s a spot on the sofa next to Marco with my name on it. I sit next to him with a smile and a sigh, sinking into the plush green velvet.

“Do you guys even know what you’re doing?” Historia asks, looking rather regal sitting in a Chesterfield wingback chair.

“Well, I’m a man so I assume it’s in my DNA somewhere,” Eren smirks, knowing fine well he’s going to wind Historia up with that comment.

“That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard! Penises are not valid qualifications for fire building!” she protests.

“What about penises?” Reiner grins suddenly appearing in the doorway, earning a very big eyeroll from me.

“Yes!” Eren cries when the tiniest of fires flickers into existence, both arms in the air. “AND JESUS WEPT! FOR MAN HAD CREATED FIRE!” It flickers out the moment he stops speaking. “…Shit.”

Historia is beside herself, hanging over the arm of the chair and cackling at Eren’s disappointed face.

“Well you bloody have a go then!” he snaps.

“I’ve never lit a fire before and I’m not arrogant enough to just assume I can,” Historia snaps back.

“Maybe there’s a book somewhere explaining how to do it,” Armin suggests.

“Min we are NOT reading a book to find out how to do something as basic as light a fire,” Eren says with a huff.

Reiner and Bert opt for the biggest armchair, the shorter pulling the other one into his lap and twining their legs together.

“Thanks again for switching Historia,” Bert smiles.

“No worries. Though I’m sad I won’t get to see one of you trying to fit into that top bunk.”

“You’re too nice Historia. I’d have paid good money to see Bert sleeping in that with his big legs hanging off the end,” Marco smirks.

“Glad we didn’t come begging to you then,” Reiner says, throwing a cushion at Marco.

Once Eren and Armin (though mainly Mikasa) finally get the fire going we help out with food and before long, there are all kinds of tasty things to pick at on the dining table. Although not everything makes it there (Sasha insists on ‘testing’ everything before we lay it out). The homemade stuff looks especially good – some bread from Armin, a chickpea dahl from Historia and a pasta salad courtesy of Marco’s mam.

After everyone’s first plateful, we decide to dig out some board games for the evening’s entertainment. Though it takes us a while to agree on which one to play.

“We’ve got to play Monopoly,” states Armin. “It’s a classic!”

“Yeah, no. I’d rather not stay up until 4am mortgaging all my properties because you’ve somehow fucked me over again,” Eren glares.

“Let’s split into teams and start with something simple,” suggests Sasha. “Ooh! And whichever team wins the most games gets to snuggle Maggie!” she grins, grabbing a tiny highland cow from a nearby shelf and holding it aloft like a scene from the Lion King.

After a game of Boggle descends into ‘which team can make the dirtiest words’, we play an insanely intense game of Jenga, followed by a much less stress-inducing game of Pictionary. Whatever we play though, Marco and I have an absolute ball. Everything seems to make us laugh way more than usual and our desire to team up for everything creates lots of opportunities for playful touch. At one point, when he wins us a wedge in Trivial Pursuit, I squeeze his arm for a ‘well done’ and he boops me on the nose.

Cue me melting into a puddle on the rug.

By the time most of the buffet has gone, each team has one win a piece, so Eren demands a game of strip poker to decide the overall winner.

“Okay hands up who actually knows how to play poker,” Historia asks with an eyeroll in Eren’s direction.

Only Eren and Reiner put their hands up.

“Okay fine, fucking…Strip Go Fish then!” Eren smiles.

It’s such a ridiculous idea that we all agree to give it a go. However, we all quickly catch on to the fact that we’re all targeting Eren. By the time everyone’s had their first turn, he’s lost both socks and his t-shirt.

“Hey Eren, got any threes?” I grin.

“No! Go fucking fish bitch!”

I curse and pick up a card.

“Hey Eren?”

“For fucksake Marco.”

“Got any Jacks?”

“Fucking hell. YES,” he grouses, causing everyone to break into hysterics again as he shimmies out of his jeans and sits huffily in just his underwear. “Right my fucking turn. Sasha, you got any sixes?”

“Ugh. Yes,” Sasha grouses handing them over. “Da-da da daaaah! DA-da da daaaah…” she sings while seductively taking off her sock.

Reiner’s turn.

“Hey Eren?”

“Jesus Christ no.”

“You got any…aces?”

“…Oh you absolute anus face.”

Everyone simultaneously cheers and screeches with laughter, knowing Eren has no choice but to get naked.

“Why are you all so desperate to see me naked!?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mikasa deadpans. “Serves you right for suggesting it.”

“C’mon Eren! Time to show us the goods!

“Off! Off! Off! Off!”

We all tap a drumroll on our legs as Eren reaches into his underwear to cup his junk with one hand and pulls them down with the other. When they reach the floor, the sound we make is deafening – Thank fuck there are no neighbours to worry about!

He sits down with a shit-eating grin. “Well at least you can’t all pick on me anymore.”

We continue the game until Sasha notices a set of headlights moving past the window – Connie is finally here. She gets up to meet him and returns moments later with a seriously tired looking Connie trailing behind her.

“Hey!” We all say, greeting him almost in unison.

“Hey!...Why the fuck is Eren naked?”

That sets us all off laughing again but we eventually compose ourselves enough to fill Connie in on all the details. Sasha offers to show Connie where he’s staying and we decide to give up on Go Fish, letting Eren put his clothes back on. Armin and Historia offer to make everyone a hot chocolate and we all settle into various cosy spots around the room.

I sneak a peek out the window for the hundredth time that evening. The rain has stopped but it’s still overcast. Not one fucking star in the sky.

Marco must sense my frustration when I sit down next to him with a huff.

"Still cloudy huh?"

"Yeah. Not even a patch of sky on show."

He taps at his phone. "Weather's meant to get better. Maybe we'll get lucky with the sky tomorrow night."

"Yeah I hope so. It would be shit to come out here and not see a single fucking star.” I look up to find Marco smiling at me. “Though I guess, there are other good things about being here.”

His eyes twinkle and there’s a pause - probably just a second but it feels like much longer.

“The hot chocolate?” he smiles cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes the hot chocolate, definitely the hot chocolate.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah.”

“Mmmhmm.”

We jostle each other in the shoulder with a giggle.

“Here you go!” Armin appears with two steaming mugs for us.

They beam at me when I take mine and I can’t help but smile back. It can’t all be in my head if Armin’s noticed too. Things between Marco and I have definitely shifted. Only ever so slightly, but enough to make my heart skip a beat at the possibilities of what it could mean…

Blushing, I take a sip of my drink and smile. Marco does the same before covering his mouth for a big yawn.

God, he looks so cute when his eyes get all scrunched up like that.

“You doing okay there sleeping beauty?”

Another yawn hits him straight after the first making me snort.

“Oof. Yeah sorry. I think this week’s catching up with me. I didn’t sleep too well the night before my interview and I’m still feeling it.”

“Aw. Don’t force yourself to stay up. No-one will mind if you wanna head off to bed.”

“Yeah I know but” - another big yawn cuts him off – “I don’t really want to…I’m having a good time.”

His sleepy eyes find mine and he smiles, so so softly…I can hardly bare to look at him but I’m powerless to stop.

If I kissed him right now, he’d taste of hot chocolate.

He looks down at his drink and takes a nice long sip. After setting his mug down he pulls out his hair tie and cards his fingers through his roots, shaking out his wavy tendrils, and then leans his head back against the sofa with a contented sigh.

It’s not even fair how gorgeous he looked doing that.

I shuffle along and close the tiny gap between our sides. Marco, understanding my intention, lets his head fall to my shoulder. He snuggles his cheek against the fabric of my t-shirt and settles down with a deep exhale.

I’ve just closed my eyes to enjoy the moment when Historia clears her throat, catching everyone’s attention.

“Soooo…anyone else noticed Sasha still hasn’t come back?”

“Oh?...Oh! Yeah, you’re right,” Eren answers.

We all share a moment of squeeing like excited schoolgirls, everyone sharing the hope that Sasha and Connie might finally become official. I feel relieved knowing Mikasa and Historia feel the same way. Sasha must have said something to them about wanting things to go in that direction.

After another half hour or so, the warmth of the hot chocolate starts to make everyone pretty sleepy so we all decide to get ready for bed. Marco grumbles when I nudge him awake from his doze, but his face immediately softens when he remembers where he is.

“C’mon buddy. Bedtime.”

I let Marco brush his teeth and use the bathroom first, and by the time I return he’s flat out asleep.

Doing my best not to disturb him, I climb under the covers and lie on my side facing him. I remember the last time we slept in the same bed and how nervous I felt. I remember how simultaneously over-the-moon and terrified I was. How my heart pounded in my chest.

This time I feel completely at peace. I let a goofy grin take over my face and breathe with Marco, watching his peaceful face with every inhale and exhale. I brush his hair out of his face and marvel at how steady my movements are, how unbothered I am by the prospect of him waking up and catching me. My eyes start to soften as I think about waking up next to him tomorrow and how much I’m looking forward to it…

_________________________________

“Jean…Hey Jean.”

There’s a warm hand on my arm, switching between stroking my skin and gently rocking me.

“Jean wake up,” the soft voice continues…Marco’s voice…and Marco’s fingers brushing my hair off my forehead.

“Hmm?” I scrunch up my eyes and roll over.

“Hey, you awake?”

“Y-yeah,” I manage, blinking my eyes until they adjust.

Marco’s sitting beside me on the bed, looking over me.

“What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Yeah sorry to wake you, it’s just…I just got up to pee and noticed the clouds have gone. You wanna go look at the stars?”

“Oh, erm,” it takes me a moment to process his words, but excitement sparks through me when my brain finally catches up. “Yeah definitely. Just err, gimme a sec to get changed.”

We shuffle about in the dark as we try to find our warmer clothes, the odd whispered giggle filling the silence when we inevitably bump into furniture or each other. Once we’re wrapped up nice and warm, I creak the bedroom door open, and we sneak downstairs as quietly as possible. I chance a look out the kitchen window when we reach the backdoor and see a starry patch of sky between the outline of two trees. My breath hitches in anticipation as I feel around for the torch hanging by the door frame.

“Marco, do me a favour,” I whisper, turning to him.

“Hmm?”

“Don't look up until I say so. Trust me it will be way better.”

“Alright.” I hear rather than see his smile.

“Okay let's go.”

The latch makes a soft click as I open the door and, thankfully, the hinges don’t squeak when I swing it open.

Cold air greets us, carrying that unique scent of rain, soil and pine needles you only ever get on a rainy day in the countryside. We step over the threshold and follow the light of my torch.

“Eep!” There's a loud crunch in the gravel as Marco grabs my shoulder. “I can't see where the dips are!” he giggles in a hushed voice.

“Here you numpty, hold my hand.”

Our palms slot together and I almost have to pinch myself over how warm and comforting and right they feel. I squeeze Marco’s hand as I tug him forward, navigating around the puddles until we reach the narrow road. There are less trees to block the view a few yards further down – the perfect viewing spot.

“We can just walk in a straight line from here so I’m gonna turn the torch off. Remember not to look up yet though.”

“Okay,” he replies giving my hand a quick squeeze.

I pocket the torch and wait a few seconds for our eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once I can make out my feet next to the grassy verge, I start walking.

“Hoo-hoo.”

“Aah!”

An owl flapping and hooting makes us both jump out of our skin and we grab each other, wheezing and giggling like a couple of idiots.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Marco whisper-shouts. “What the hell?”

“C-come on,” I laugh. “It’s not much further.”

This time I lace our fingers together, stroking my thumb over the back of his hand as I pull us further into the darkness. I feel his thumb do the same.

“Okay this should do. You ready?” I ask bouncing a little on the balls of my feet.

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles.

“Okay…look up.”

A sharp intake of breath punctuates the night air as we gasp at the sight before us. A canopy of lights, each unique in their depth and glow, consumes the sky above our heads.

“Oh my g-god.”

“I know.”

I will never get over this view. Never. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen it before; the sheer depth of the universe always knocks me for six. All this beautiful light filling the sky, despite having started its journey thousands, or even millions of years ago. It’s as if the starlight has travelled just for us, to create this perfect moment. I squeeze Marco’s hand tightly as I start to recognise some familiar sparkles.

“Look, you see that bright star there?” I ask, leaning into his space and pointing at the sky. “That’s Rigel. It’s the bottom of my favourite constellation Orion. See there, that’s Orion’s belt.”

“Oh yeah! Is that reddish one part of Orion?”

“Yeah that’s Betelgeuse! It’s a collapsing star! Oh and can you see those ones next to it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That’s the constellation Gemini – that super bright star at the head of it is called Pollux. Oh, and that zigzagging cluster is Cassiopeia. And then if you go further up you can see the big dipper. It’s the one that’s kind of shaped like-”

I stop when I realise Marco’s gaze is no longer following the end of my finger. A million galaxies shine above his head but he’s looking at me. I can see them all reflected in his eyes, just like that time in the planetarium except even more breathtakingly beautiful. His thumb starts stroking my hand again as he takes a step closer.

“Jean…”

“…Yeah?”

His other hand moves to my waist and I forget how to breathe.

He closes the gap between us, so much so that I feel his breath tickle my skin…and then his lips touch mine.

It’s brief, barely even a peck before he draws back a fraction, only a whisper of space between us. He releases a shallow breath. My heart yammers in my chest. A heavy second passes between us, but then, when I squeeze his hand and start stroking his knuckles, he leans forward and finds my lips again.

The grip he has on my waist tightens as he untangles our fingers and holds the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. My own hands snake over his back, holding him just as tightly as I tilt my head and melt against his soft lips.

And then his tongue finds mine and I die on the spot.

Oh my god. I’m kissing him. I’m kissing Marco. I’M KISSING MARCO!

AND. I. CANNOT. GET. ENOUGH.

I feel overwhelmed and utterly insatiable all at once. Like, I know I’m kissing him, but I wish I was kissing him more somehow. I’m kissing him and I wish I was kissing him and I never want to stop kissing him…

…But he stops kissing me.

“Jean, wait I’m sorry I can’t…I don’t know if…I don’t know if I…”

I freeze.

“I mean…I want to kiss you, but…I can’t do this if it’s just a one-time thing okay? I don’t…I don’t want this to be something casual that we joke about at the next band practice like it was nothing. I-I…I like you, okay? I’ve liked you for a long time…longer than I should have…”

Fuck.

This is it. This is the moment. These are the words I’ve been longing to hear but never dared to believe I actually would. Holy fuck! But…the way he said them…

He doesn’t know. How can he not know?

How can he not know how much he means to me? How can he not know how much affection floods my body when I look at him? How I have to remind myself to breathe when he touches me. How my heart scorches me from the inside out every time we’ve ever said goodbye.

“J-Jean?” His voice breaks and my heart breaks with it.

I step forward and reach for his hands on instinct. There’s still a warmth to them, despite the chilly night air.

I’ve rehearsed this fantasy a thousand times in my head, but nothing prepares me for the real thing. I don’t know where to begin, whether it’s even possible to make him understand the depth of my adoration.

He squeezes my fingers ever so slightly, like he’s scared anything more might break me, but his delicate touch is all the courage I need to start speaking.

“Marco…you were never a ‘one-time’ option for me.”

His breath hitches, eyes sparkling as he lifts his head to look at me again.

“I like you too okay? Like, A LOT. I think…I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and I you’re my favourite person to spend time with, but it’s been getting harder and harder because of how much I want to touch you all the time and kiss you and stroke your hair and-”

I puff out a breath and gather my thoughts. The darkness makes it easier to say what I want to say.

“I don’t want this to be a ‘one-time’ thing either. I want…I want everything with you.”

He steps forward, kisses me again and all the stars above our heads turn supernova.

[kingsteves-world]

LEAN GAINS Man sheds HALF his body fat thanks to the keto diet and cutting out the booze

Marc, AKA liqfitness, has been showing off his incredible 8.6st weight loss - which he claims only really kicked off once he went keto.

At his heaviest, he weighed in at 24st and had 56 per cent body fat. Men are classed as obese if they have over 25 per cent.

Having always struggled with his weight, he found himself ballooning after a series of serious injuries playing football in high school.

GET YOUR MEAL PLAN HERE

His weight piled on after a series of injuries

"I've always struggled with weight loss but that surgery and recovery made me gain a lot of weight," he said on his Instagram.

"I became so unhealthy that I couldn’t keep up with my football team’s workouts and I was very depressed."

He says that he started off just eating healthier last January.

“So I started off by just eating healthier around January 2018," he told followers in the "Progresspics" thread.

Eating healthier wasn't enough

“Cut out alcohol and focused on eating lean foods and veggies."

But he said that he "didn’t see much progress", because he wasn't keeping a track of how many calories he was consuming.

It was only when he started on a keto diet following a method devised by company Ideal Protein that things started to change.

"On Ideal Protein, I eat around 1100-1400 calories a day," he explained.

Cutting the calories and going keto was key

“It doesn’t seem like much, but once you get used to it, you realise how insane anything more than 3000 calories seems.”

The Ideal Protein Protocol is split into four phases: weight loss (followed until 100 per cent of your weight loss goal is achieved), a 14-day phase, a "pre-stabilisation" phase and a 12-month maintenance stage.

The company says that "chronologically, the body will first draw on its carbohydrate reserve before turning to protein and fat.

"During the weight loss phases of the Protocol, we limit carbohydrate intake to encourage the body to turn to its fat and muscle components for energy.

"By eating protein foods, the Protocol helps to support muscle mass and teaches you how to develop smarter eating habits and lifestyle choices, to help maintain your weight after weight loss is achieved."

Keto works by forcing the body to burn its own fat reserves for fuel, rather than carbs.

GET YOUR MEAL PLAN HERE

His doctor monitored him every week

While 1,400 might seem incredibly low for a man, Marc said that he was following a weight loss protocol as set out by his doctor who regularly checked in on him.

"He monitored me every week to make sure I stayed healthy and got the nutrients I needed. It was very hard to eat such little amounts, but it paid off,” he said.

“If you’re trying to lose weight, you need to cut that down to like 2,000 calories.

“My BMR (basal metabolic rate - how much you burn at rest) is 2,400 calories, so that’s how many calories I burn in a day without working out. It’s all a science.

"Eat fewer calories than you burn"

Despite getting down to a lean 20 per cent body fat, it's taking a little more time for all of Marc's body to change.

He says that he still has man boobs and had no idea that they'd still be there after so much fat loss.

"Fat loss is unique to everyone. That's why I always tell people not to compare themselves to others.

"You might lose weight in some areas faster than I lose it and vice versa. It's a process and one that I'm riding out!"

His weight loss journey hasn't just been about shedding body fat

"Overall, weight loss isn’t just about the weight. It’s a lifestyle change.

"You’d be surprised how many aspects of your life change when you make those sacrifices. I’ll never go back."

Lots of people swear by keto for fat burning but more and more research has suggested that carbs are actually essential from a health perspective.

While no one is suggesting you start mainlining chips, scientists are convinced that having a moderate amount of foods like potatoes, bread and pasta might extend your life by up to four years.

The key is to make sure that you're getting your fill of fresh veg every day and concentrating on avoiding processed grub.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

S-I-M-P

Yamaguchi- he lives to hype you up, even if you don’t see all your good points Yamaguchi sure as hell does, and he’s always happy to remind you that you deserve the world. Yams has a whole second Instagram account just for pictures of you where you look good, he’ll be like “December photo dump” and it's 43 pictures.

Kenma- Kenma doesn’t like to talk to a lot of people but the people he is close with he’s very clingy with. He just wants to spend all day on your chest listening to you talk about your day and your heartbeat. Kenma is also the most jealous person you know, dead ass he will get pouty when you’re watching other people stream. Why isn’t his Nintendogs play through good enough for you???

Kuroo- sugar dadddddddy. He’s here to get manipulated by pretty people. He doesn’t care if you’re draining his bank account as long as you give him a smile and a “thank you daddy” he’s golden. He likes to buy you pretty things and see you wear the pretty things he gets for you. Kuroo is, however, the worst. He wants to be texting you 24/7 and here about every part of your day, and fall asleep with you on facetime, you might need to consider upping your rates if you don’t want to be a full-time trophy spouse.

Atsumu- swears to god he’s not a simp, he’s a player he treats his partners like the ass he swears. Atsumu calls you at three am just cus he thinks you’re cute when you’re sleepy. Atsumu likes to drive you places even if he doesn’t need to go there himself. He falls asleep on top of you just so you don’t get up and leave in the middle of the night. Atsumu has caught feelings for 100% of his sneaky links and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Osamu- at least he’s honest about it unlike some people on this list. Osamu makes you go grocery shopping with him. It has the dual purpose of making you spend time with him and letting him know what kind of food you like. Osamu is the type to hold all the grocery bags in one hand and your hand in the other, like hell he’s letting you carry anything when he’s with you, even at school and stuff he’ll grab your bag for you.

Shigaraki- Shigariki believes that every person has a role in life, and your role is to coddle him. Shigaraki would do anything to make you happy, even crazy shit like shower and cut his nails. He’d burn a fucking building to the ground if it meant you’d tell him you were proud of him. Shigaraki doesn’t conder himself particularly starved for affection or attention, but he just can’t get enough of you. Use this power wisely.

Denki- Denki lives to do those TikTok trends with you. His lock screen is your eye color, his home screen is a picture of you asleep on his chest. He wants to know every banal thought that crosses your mind. What's your favorite color? What's your thought on classical music? What kind of blankets do you like? He wants to tell you every detail of his day and here about every second of yours. If you take a piss or brush your teeth you better text him about it!! He wants to know!!

Momo- You basically live at her place, and she wouldn’t have it any other way/ It’s only a matter of time before you officially move in with her but until then she has a nice space for your clothes in her closet and a space for you in her bed. She likes making dinner with you. Something about eating together becomes very important to her and she’ll face time you at lunch so you can still eat together even if you’re physically apart. She’ll wake up early for breakfast with you and never eat dinner before you get home.

Aizawa- as exhausted as he is, he’ll always stay awake to listen to you. That being said if you let him la on your chest and start playing with his hair he’s out and it's the best sleep of his life every time. Aizawa wants to get a cat with you. He wants an animal that’s not just your baby but his baby too. He just wants to share everything with you.

Midoriya- he’s a words of affirmations guy. He’ll spend hours telling you how beautiful you are and he means every word of it. Midoriya is one of those people who means it when he tells you he’ll check out a movie or show you recommend. He wants to know more about you and have common interests and things you can talk about. He’s also likely to pick up any hobbies you have so you could maybe do them together sometime.

[meliorist-midoriya]

chasing the sun

synopsis: there’s something screaming in familiarity—in mourning—deep in his soul at the sight of you, a complete stranger. this is the price you pay for resurrection, the sun whispers as it rises.

pairing: takami keigo x fem!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending, reincarnation au

warnings: mentions and depictions of death, major character deaths, mentions of war (+ description of a battlefield scene), injuries, blood.

word count: 11.7k

a/n: happy (extremely belated) birthday, bird boy. and aaaa my baby’s here, she’s finally here! i’ve been working on this fic for a little over two months now, and i’m so happy to see it fully fleshed out! thank you to @dimplesum​ for beta reading, and the tumblr chaos server for listening to me yell all the time abt this fic :’) disclaimer, i did as much research as i could, but any historical depictions are not 100% historically accurate and i have taken some creative liberty, so please take the historical scenes with a grain of salt! 

important: there will be songs linked throughout the fic to be played in accordance with the scene, i do hope you listen to them for the full experience! it is okay if the ost ends before the scene as that is also on purpose. the beginning of the song will start with 【 ☀︎ 】 with a link to the song. with that said, i hope you enjoy, and happy reading!

crossposted on Ao3

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Keigo, the youngest government official in the empire, stumbling upon a lone concubine in the eastern lotus garden. 

He’d been searching for solitude, away from the viper’s nest of samurai-turned-aristocrats, strutting around the castle with their now-useless weapons strapped to their hips, discussing poetry and politics instead of battle and war tactics.

It’d been disgustingly easy for them to make the switch from warrior to bureaucrat, taking the status boost in stride. Those who couldn’t, they stayed with their lords if they were lucky. The warriors who weren’t… Keigo would need an abacus to count the ones who weren’t so lucky, the countless rumors and reports of wandering rōnin with familiar names never failing to reach over the palace walls to get to him.

(Oh, what he would give to join them.)

Of course, he’d been intending to brood ponder over this in the seclusion of the garden he’d discovered a few days ago, staring at the green buds of the young lotuses in the water until his head spun. The sight of the concubine sitting in his spot (that he was certain was too secluded to be found) told him fate had other plans, however.

He cleared his throat and forced down the grimace once he saw the concubine jump, startled, before trying her best to smoothly turn and bow without looking too flustered.

“Good morning, madam.”

“Good morning—”

He smiled through the static in his brain at the mention of his surname, messily tacked to the honorific that he would never get used to. 

That name… it’s not mine. Don’t call me that.

A discordant mess of jumbled kanji that sounded nothing like the powerfully elegant names in the court. The ill-fitting characters standing out like an eyesore on his documents, the syllables falling awkwardly off the tongue in conversation.

Wholly fitting for an outsider like him, really.

The mention of that name grated something terrible in him, and he settled for keeping his teeth grit into a smile. A sheltered concubine wouldn’t know, of course she wouldn’t know. Practically no one did, so he had no one to fault but his own cursed sensitivity to a name he wanted to burn.

“Do you mind if I join you?” The slight twitch in her demure smile was answer enough, but he’d set aside time for this escape, and damn if he was going to let it go to waste.

“Of course not. Please, don’t mind me, my lord.”

He dipped his head in thanks and you bowed in return, the silence hanging in the air settling into something stiff and awkward. 

A minute passed… 

Then another… 

Then five… 

Keigo was going to go mad at this rate. Neither of you had any intention of leaving the rare pocket of seclusion, and the competitive whisper in the corner of his mind told him that leaving first meant conceding, meant losing.

(In his world, losing meant death.)

Keigo’s had enough of losing in life despite his dumb luck, thank you very much.

So, he did what he knew he did best. He talked. Shattering the awkward silence in an effort to coax the tranquil silence he was searching for back into the little gazebo by the pond. Maybe if he ran his mouth long enough, you’d get tired and leave.

“You’re a new face in the palace.”

With an expectant gaze, he watched the telltale shift from awkward to apprehensive, the rigidness of your stature sharply contrasting the flowing brocade of your kimono as you looked back at him with a too-sharp gaze before casting your eyes away to the green buds in the water. Had he been any slower, Keigo would’ve thought that the conflicted expression you quickly smoothed over was solemn (it was anything but). 

“I would say the same to you, my lord, but every face in this castle is a new face to me.” You tilted your head with a thin-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Although… I’m sure an official who just arrived at the castle for his yearly residence would be an especially new face. Please excuse my rudeness.”

Keigo blinked. Once, twice, his jaw relaxing into a disbelieving smile at the sight of your steely gaze bright with a challenge and a smile sharper than the blades at his waist, the unsaid words ringing clearly. 

Two could play at this game.

Well, now, this was new. 

Perhaps it was your defiance that remained steadfast in this castle, or the blissful ignorance that made you one of the few to look at him straight on instead of down your nose. A little voice whispered that this would change in due time, the politics and power struggles confined within the castle never failing to break down even the most resilient. Those that didn’t know how to play the game correctly simply… vanished.

“Someone’s well-informed, I see.” He folded his hands behind his back, his wish for tranquility long forgotten. “I heard a new concubine has just entered the castle as well. A consolation prize, of sorts, from the farthest reaches of the country. Of course, as I’ve been gone for a year and have only been here for four, I’m not too sure.” He flicks his gaze to you, accepting your challenge with a knife-sharp smile of his own.

“I am curious as to what this concubine’s name is, however.”

You arched a brow, the thin-lipped smile widening into something sweet (that looked better on a fox rather than a beautiful concubine), and you bowed. Any trace of that stiff apprehensiveness dissolved into a graceful fluidity that seemed to disappear within the rippling silk of your kimono.

“Lady Y/N. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

To this day, he’ll never admit how surprised he was at your reverence, nor how his heart did a funny little flip in his chest when you giggled at his flustered response. What kind of fool gave respect to a commoner picked up from the slums?

You. Except you were no fool, and maybe that’s why he kept coming back like a moth to flame.

Time passed, and he found himself in that little garden day after day, morning after morning. Listening to the concubine who told vivid stories of lands he could only dream of, foods he found himself craving, and tales of warriors past. 

The conversations at dawn soon turned into stories of the past, the laments of the present, and dreams of a bleak future. With delicate hands and gently prying words, you two unlocked every bar and lock you’d put over your souls and allowed yourselves to lay them bare for each other, the intimacy of a bond forged in secrets and solidarity far stronger than any alliance or contract.

You two confided in each other in that garden, staring at the dew on the lilypads as you two whispered how you didn’t belong in the palace. How the confines of grand walls with ears and eyes were no place for the adopted commoner and a concubine far from home. Two people in this big world who were just lucky enough, fortunate enough to end up within this lavish palace, your lives guaranteed splendor and comfort. 

Then again—you two would share a conspiratorial laugh—maybe you two were unfortunate instead. What was splendor and comfort when you had to constantly watch for a knife in your back or poison in your cup? When a single misstep could cost you your life? 

Conversations shared with you, the concubine with a sharp tongue and even sharper wit, were the most fulfilling he’s had in ages. Maybe it was the sense of formality that the intimacy of the waterside gazebo stripped away, or the unraveling realization that he hasn’t breathed this freely in ages, that he was looking forward to these moments in the morning. The intimacy shared in the garden he selfishly liked to call his own little world.

Keigo catches the smile you hide behind your sleeve when he steps into the gazebo, and he realizes you’re being selfish, too.

He didn’t know how the conversation got here, he didn’t know why he had a hairpin meant for you tucked into his sleeve. All he knew was that when it came to you, he was helpless to the whims of rambling and buying a pretty hairpin made of red jade because it reminded him of a sharp wit with a pretty smile.

“I live for this country and I die for this country. Well, not that there’s anything much to die for anyway.” Keigo’s laugh is empty, and your melancholic gaze even emptier. A fog had blown in that morning, covering the pond in a soft cover of white, and your soft voice and softer touch on his arm (careful, almost) silenced his dry laughter and left his throat even drier. 

“What you would die for is also an excellent reason to live, is it not?”

Your words, whispered into the stillness of the moment, resonated so loudly within his soul and forced a shaky breath out of his lungs as he gazed in awe at you. At the soft, ethereal glow in the fog cast by the rising sun breaking through the clouds, the scent of bloomed lotuses wafting in on the breeze that rustles the dangling pieces of your hair ornaments. He is weak to whims when it comes to you, so he pulls out the hairpin burning a hole in his sleeve to slip into your hair with shaking hands unbefitting a swordsman. Keigo watches your eyes sparkle like the gem in your hair, and his heart lifts with hope as he whispers his devotion into the warm morning, carried by the wind into a sea of blooms.

“I’ll live for you, then.”

And with a smile, you fall in love.

(Keigo falls even harder.)

【 ☀︎ 】

He should have known.

“I don’t know what I was expecting from the son of a criminal.”

He really should have known.

“What was that fool thinking, taking a street rat like you in all those years ago?”

Honestly, he’d like an answer to that, too. Too bad the old man was dead and left him to inherit a position he didn’t even want. To think he’d agree with the emperor for once in his short life.

“Tsk, a son will follow in his father’s footsteps, after all. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.”

Keigo should be concerned that he couldn’t feel how the coarse dirt dug into his knees anymore, his cheek still aching from where the guard had punched him. 

(Okay, yes, he deserved it, but he could’ve done without tasting iron.)

The sadistic glee in the guard’s face after he landed that “disciplinary strike” told him otherwise. With a bitter grimace, he spat red into the dirt.

How long has he been kneeling here? Minutes? Hours? The words echoing over and over in his head pulled him away from his present reality, bringing him back to the blur that was the past two days.

(Three? He couldn’t be sure, time passes oddly in a prison cell.)

The servants whispering about a concubine being expelled from the harem, the handmaid being promoted to concubine suspiciously quickly, and sudden memories of too-loud rustling coming from the treeline that he’d foolishly brushed off. All of it culminated in the form of palace guards dragging him from his study all the way to the harem to throw him at the emperor’s feet.

“Could the street rat not keep his hands off the women of the court? Plenty to pick back where you came from.” 

Keigo wanted to vomit at the cloying stench of sake, unpleasant memories rushing to the forefront of his mind and forcing his limbs to lock from age-old fear. Not like he could use them anyway, with heavy hands on each shoulder pinning his knees to the tatami and his blades having long been tossed away in the struggle to drag him here.

“Oh, my lord, haven’t you heard?” A sickeningly saccharine voice pulled the man’s attention away to coo at the woman curled into his side, cradling a bottle of warmed sake. “Apparently the small-time nobleman who adopted him, did it knowing he was the son of that criminal you were having trouble with all that time ago.”

The grip forcing his head down loosened from the resounding laughter that rippled around the room, just enough to allow Keigo to glare at the loose-lipped concubine. Your opportunistic maidservant who’d been all too willing to take your place in the harem, having taken her chance and fleeing with it. Her tittering giggles and power-drunk grin grated his ears, and he kept glaring. Daring her to look back, to look him in the eye without feeling an ounce of guilt for what she had done.

Almost as if she heard his furious challenge, she took a glance at the man pinned to the floor (trying to look down her nose like she had been looked down on. Pathetic fool.)  only to jump at the righteous fury burning in his gaze, fear clouding her conscience for a precious moment. 

More, Keigo urged, rage bitter on his tongue, Guilt, shame, despair, all of it.

I hope you regret this for the rest of your life. Lament, as punishment for ruining hers—

“Don’t assume what I have and haven’t heard, woman,” The drunkard grunted, holding his cup out for her to pour with shaking hands and a meek surrender, “But, the man was losing his mind from age. What was that fool thinking, taking a dirty brat like this in all those years ago? Too useless to bear a son nor keep a wife, so he had to stoop low enough to take in a criminal’s son from the slums.”

Righteous fury welled up in his chest, and his body moved before his brain could catch up, spit landing at the emperor’s feet. Almost immediately thereafter, his head whipped to the side, cheek smarting from the sharp strike the guard’s knuckles had indented into his swelling cheek. He grit his teeth as that same cheek came down on the tatami, someone pressing his head into the ground.

“Years upon years of trying to force yourself into nobility, and you’d think you’d learn some respect along the way.”

Had he not been the one with his face pressed into the ground, Keigo would’ve laughed at the shade of fury-red the man’s face was turning. Sake did not treat him well. The concubines at his side, fearing for their lives, immediately rushed to whisper soothing words and calming pleas. Somehow, it worked, and he reclined back into his seat with a heavy sigh, draining the sake in one gulp.

“The son of a criminal shall inevitably become a criminal. Now that I think about it, this is a wonderful opportunity to get rid of an eyesore. A grave in Kozukappara should suit him well.” A sadistic grin split his lips around the cup, chortling with laughter at his own (terrible) wit. “Being buried next to his criminal father! What a filial son!”

The table shook from the force of a fine porcelain cup slamming down on it, as if the emperor were stamping his death certificate right then and there.

(He was.) 

“Get him out of my sight. The next time I want to see his head is on the gates of Kozukappara.”

Keigo the official had died in that room, and the man that was dragged out by his shoulders left the castle as a criminal.

“Done saying your prayers?” 

Slowly, he looked up from the white paper fan set in front of him in place of the tantō that should’ve been there for his use (obligatory seppuku, his muddled brain supplied with annoyingly familiar haughtiness, so the ex-warrior could die a warrior. What a joke—) to the man he’d chosen to be his executioner. Normally, he would’ve snapped back with something witty, something sharp, but going days without water wasn’t treating him well. A heavy sigh, and the man ran a frustrated thumb down the bright blue wrap of his katana hilt. 

“The concubine, of all women? An imperial concubine, at that. I’d expect you to know better than that, my friend.”

Ah, the static in his head was a little stronger today. Wonderful.

“I thought I knew better, too. At least I get to die to someone with a steady hand.”

He scoffed, thumb running over the blue hilt again. Keigo idly remembered seeing the man rub his burn-leathered skin the same way countless times, the anxious habit having stubbornly ingrained itself into his being since childhood.

“Must you be so dark?”

“When am I not?” He managed to muster up a slow grin. “I’m hurt, I thought my closest companion would’ve known this after years of keeping swords out of each other’s backs.”

The heavy gong announcing his execution sounded, and he watched his best friend’s melancholic gaze glaze over into soulless steel that mirrored the blade drawn from its hilt. Keigo dipped his head with a solemn smile and shut his eyes in resignation.

I really… should’ve known…

“Keigo!”

Everything paused for a breath, in shock at your shout breaking the stillness of the moment. He didn’t have to lift his head to know who was crying out, trying to delay the inevitable certainty. A sharp smile and an even sharper tongue reduced to nothing but cries and desperation.

“...I’ll continue.” The executioner ignored your desperate “No!” as he shifted his stance, scarred hands steady as he placed the blade against the back of his neck despite the pain Keigo knew he was in. 

It would’ve been nice to hold you in his arms, at least once— 

No, for eternity.

The blade came down and, like a lotus facing the sun in supplication, you screamed your despair into the heavens. 

That day, the blood red sunset matched the crimson pooling on the execution ground’s floor.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Private First Class Takami Keigo marching into a small city on the way to the front lines, rifle slung over his shoulder and feet aching.

They’ve been marching through the night, and for the first time in his life, he found himself grateful for Japan’s humid summer nights. He’d take sweat over losing toes from frostbite any day. 

But, he decides, sighing in relief along with the rest of the company at the sight of a town once they crested the hill, there was nothing like the relief of a warm bed and any food other than the tasteless military rations.

“Tired already?” The low voice beside him would’ve made him jump had it not been so familiar.

“Aw, what’s this? Is Touya-kun worried for little old me?” Keigo shot a grin at the man marching next to him and dodged the elbow that he aimed at his side with a short laugh.

“A tired soldier is a dead soldier.” A pause, and the next response came backed with a dry laugh. “Not like it’d affect you and your monstrous instincts, anyway.”

“Yes, as we’ve been told a thousand times, General.” The teasing tilt to his voice came easy, and he let his best friend elbow him this time, too busy laughing at his annoyance. 

Should he have been a little more worried of the captain catching him messing around? Yes, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Judging by the restless shifting rippling through the soldiers, no one was too worried about getting a scolding when they were so close to a warm meal and rest.

“Think the inn will be big enough to house all of us? Another night sleeping on the floor doesn’t sound all that nice to me.” 

Touya scoffed as if his question was the stupidest thing he’d heard all day, keeping his gaze straight as he adjusted the rifle on his shoulder, the company shifting around them into formation as they approached the gates.

“You’re complaining like it’s anything new to us.”

“Harsh.”

The conversation faded after that, the rough dirt under his boots soon transitioning into the packed earth of the town’s main street as residents gathered to whisper and gawk at the soldiers passing through, the sight of their uniforms a jarring eyesore in this sleepy town. 

A sleepy, familiar town.

Keigo’s mind was spinning. His restless gaze kept flicking around the too-familiar buildings and shops and people that remained after all these years. The restaurant with the broken kitchen window that was too easy to sneak into, the grocer who still kept his trash bin too close to the alley, the old woman sitting in front of her izakaya who always had ginger candy and a meal to give. 

They slowed to a stop in front of the large inn, and he stared up at the building that looked much smaller than he remembered, the interior much less grand than he’d imagined it to be as they filed their way in, and he found himself in the room he once dreamed of sleeping in. There, Keigo sat in near disbelief, on the futon that wasn’t as soft as he thought it would’ve been.

“How time flies, huh?” He looked up to see Touya dropping his pack next to his futon and sitting down across from him with a melancholy grin.

There was too much Keigo wanted to say, nostalgia bitter in the back of his throat, so he settled for a matching smile.

“Old Man Yasutaro never got around to fixing that boarded up window.” 

Touya barked out a surprised laugh, Keigo’s smile widening into a self-satisfied grin.

“You ever think he did that on purpose? He always did stock too much food.”

“Are you kidding?” Keigo shuddered at the phantom pain of the beatings he earned. “He was scary whenever he caught us, there’s no way mean ol’ Yasutaro would do all that just for a pair of orphans on the street.”

“Mm, I don’t know, he was always pretty sweet to Granny Tamayo, so anything that made him look good in her book.” Touya leaned back on his arms, the melancholy melting into the ease of bittersweet nostalgia. It was easier to smile through the painful memories rather than dwell on the past, so Keigo let himself toss his head back with a laugh.

“God, her ginger candy was the best.” 

“You sure it was the candy? Or the granddaughter who always snuck an extra piece to you?” That earned Touya a frustrated noise of protest and a half-hearted kick he dodged.

“That was ages ago!”

“And you still react like a little boy!” 

Keigo groaned, burying his face into his hands as if that would tune out Touya’s cackling laughter. It was short moments like this that took the weight off his shoulders, the murmurs of public dissent, the leaked plans of a planned riot, the magnitude of his actions tomorrow morning.

(Civilians. Of all things, why did it have to be civilians?)

He suddenly pushed himself to his feet, the heavy weight having pushed itself back onto his shoulders and slotting the familiar hum of alertness back into place. Touya gave him a knowing look that he, decidedly, ignored in favor of getting out before his mind swallowed him whole.

“Dinner is supposed to be in a bit, we should get going.”

“Wonderful job of changing the subject, really.”

“Wonderful job of being annoying.”

Touya dodged another swipe of the leg, laughing at his displeasure as he stood to follow.

“Why thank you, I try.” His grin widened with a certain glint in his eye that Keigo found himself dreading. “Now let’s get going, I heard some of the guys are at Granny Tamayo’s izakaya.”

“What?”

“My, isn’t that little Keigo? And little Touya?” 

Keigo faltered halfway through the entrance, smoothing his grimace into a smile as he watched the old lady totter over from her seat with all the coddling of a grandmother. The soldiers within earshot (who were already drinking and eating away. It was barely sunset—) paused to gawk and grin at the endearing interaction.

“Not so little anymore, Granny.”

“I’ll say. Are you eating alright? Is the military treating you well?”

“Granny!”

“What’s this? Speedy and Torchface have some history here?” Keigo kept his smile smooth, only shifting it just the slightest bit into what he knew would look like a sheepish grin instead of the pained grimace underneath the surface. Boisterous laughter that only alcohol could bring rippled around the spacious izakaya, the men cracking jokes over drinks and food.

“Careful calling him Torchface, he has the temper to match.”

Ah, there it is. Touya shouldered past him to stalk towards the offending table with a scarily wide grin, pulling the loose-lipped rookie into a chokehold, his wide grin unmoving.

“‘Has a temper’ my ass, you’re just jealous that a guy with a bunch of burn scars has an easier time with women than you idiots.”

The laughter only grew louder, Granny Tamayo’s expression softening at the interaction before turning back to Keigo with a nostalgic smile.

“Not so little… I see.” She motioned to the table Touya had made a space for himself at, shoving the rookie (who was still in a chokehold, poor kid) aside to make room for him. “Take a seat, dear, and the drinks will be right out.”

The too-loud laughter and incessantly clinking glasses filled the space up with ear-grating noise, and Keigo wanted to leave. Search for peace and solitude in the quiet streets in a way that was strangely familiar. 

(For a fleeting moment, he thought a quiet garden would be nice.)

However, he’d rather eat with the company of drunks rather than the void of his own mind and the horrors silence tended to bring, so the migraine starting to brew in the back of his head was a small price to pay. As was the heavy arm slung over his shoulder from some random soldier, alcohol-loosened and heavy, and the awkward conversation he found himself following along with perfectly tailored humor.

“Alright, I have two beers as well as a few rounds of edamame and—” 

The familiar voice stopped short, and Keigo felt his heart stop in tandem. Slowly, he looked up and saw the girl who used to sneak out an extra candy when her grandmother wasn’t looking, now a woman in the izakaya uniform balancing trays in one hand and two mugs in the other. 

“...Keigo?”

Almost as if the locked gates had been thrown open, a new rush of memories past had overcome him. Jaunts through the town disguised as adventures, clumsily dancing around an old gramophone and calling it a waltz, and the start of blossoming love. Keigo simply smiled, easygoing and familiar, like it hadn’t been years since you saw him run to the military with Touya the first chance they had, drawn by the promise of food and shelter. Like he hadn’t left a malnourished boy and come back a man with more scars than skin.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“‘Been a while.’” You rolled your eyes, setting down the mug in front of him with a huff. “The two most important people in my life run off to join the army without so much as a word, and that’s what you say?”

His words stopped halfway up his throat the moment he saw Granny Tamayo come up behind you to pinch you on the arm, the half-formed response morphing into a laugh as he watched you flinch back with a surprised (and betrayed) yelp.

“Y/N, darling, don’t be rude to the customers.” You pouted, rubbing at the sore spot on your upper arm.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“It’s fine, Granny. Nothing new, right?” At the sight of his cheeky smile, the old woman scoffs, something endearing, before nudging him out of his seat despite your noise of protest.

“Well, since you two seem to be talking of nothing but the past, why don’t you go take a walk down memory lane?”

“Wha— Grandmother! There’s still customers—”

“Kaede can handle it just fine! Shoo, shoo, get out of my hair.” 

Without missing a beat, Granny Tamayo smoothly plucked the trays from your hands and nudged you two towards the door as the soldiers watching roared with laughter and cooed jokes at the two “childhood lovers”. Keigo turned towards Touya, almost desperately, in a futile search for— what? Escape? Wasn’t he looking for escape in the first place?

“Wait, Granny, come on. Touya’s part of this too, isn’t he?”

“Don’t drag me into this, a trip down memory lane isn’t for me!” With an arm still slung over the now-wheezing rookie’s shoulder, Touya raised the cup of sake he’d ordered as if in toast. Whether it was to Keigo’s mortification, or to the potential opportunities this meant, Keigo didn’t want to know.

Probably both.

(...Probably the former, if he were to be honest with himself.)

A flurry of drunken laughter and lighthearted jokes, half-hearted protests that fell on deaf ears, and insistent pushing at his back later, he found himself standing outside the izakaya, blinking up at the full moon before looking over at you.

“...Did we just get kicked out?”

“I think we did.” You snorted, scuffing a mark into the dirt path with your heel, and Keigo wanted the earth to crack open and swallow him whole. What was he supposed to do? Stuck with the remnants of a rekindling love, the awkwardness that tended to come with years of estrangement and words that failed him when it came to you. 

Well, there’s really only one thing he could do.

Talk.

“So, what’s new with you?” He immediately cringed at his choice of words, forcing himself to school his expression over into an easygoing smile instead of recoiling like he so desperately wanted to do. 

Nice going there, Keigo, really.

“...Same old.” Your quiet answer snapped him out of his thoughts, and he tilted his head, almost like he was beckoning you to continue. “Same old town, same old job, same old life. I pretty much walked the path everyone knew I was going to go on as the granddaughter of the izakaya’s owner.”

You looked up with a sheepish grin, the bright moonlight casting the world (and you) in a silver glow, and Keigo felt his heart leap into his throat.

“Not the most exciting to a man from the military, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’ve seen a lot—” Keigo rubbed at the identification tag hidden under his clothes by force of habit, the leather cord heavy around his neck. He has seen a lot. Too much, to be exact, but how would he even begin to explain the horrors of man to someone… “normal”? How could he?

For someone whose wit and silver tongue helped him survive all these years, he was awfully tongue-tied tonight. Or maybe it was just you, and the surreal lightness settling into his soul that had him stumbling over his words.

“But you’ve seen enough?” You finished his sentence with a wry grin, and the surprised laugh found itself past his lips before he could catch it. How could he forget? You were always, always a step ahead of him. Back then and even now.

“Enough of my barracks and Touya’s face? Yeah, definitely.” You swatted his arm with a huff, and the familiar action made the next laugh come a little easier, his chest a little lighter as the awkwardness slowly dissipated into something… comfortable. Normal.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” 

“Well, that’s your answer, Y/N. Don’t know what else to tell you,” He shrugged in mock ignorance, and you groaned, going back to worrying at the deepening scuff in the dirt. 

“What, so, we both had boring lives?”

Far from boring.

“...Yeah, I guess so.” 

You pursed your lips and stared out at the quiet street, the beat of silence almost bordering on awkward by the time you broke it with a resolute sigh, starting to walk forward into the moonlight.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to make up for it somehow.” 

“And how would you do that?”

“By going back to when life wasn’t so boring,” You hummed, spinning to face him and grandly spreading your arms, as if you were presenting the lantern-lit street to him, “C’mon! Tonight, this main street is memory lane!”

“Aren’t you taking me out of town at one point, though?”

“Oh, hush. Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming, coming.”

Oh, your smile was radiant, and Keigo had to force himself to keep moving instead of gaping like a fool.

(Was it possible for him to make you smile like that all the time?)

For the next hour, time seemed to stop. The moon stood frozen in the sparkling sky, watching two star-crossed lovers go around town, laughing and reminiscing on what could’ve been. What could be, if Keigo were to be bold. You took him down Main Street as promised, and he found it hard to relate to the memories you spoke of, associating each store with scornful stares and pitiful ignorance. Eventually, you two looped around to the outskirts of town. To the river that looked more like a creek now, and the quaint houses and maze of alleyways. To familiarity.

He smiles as he watches you skip rocks in the creek, laughs when you wrinkle your nose at the dog that always seems to only bark when you two pass by Old Man Yasutaro’s gate, and revels in the memories.

“You still suck!”

“Hey! It’s not like we skip rocks all the time in the military.”

You merely rolled your eyes and continued to skip ahead, the slow and awkward trudge from before revived into the enthusiastic step he remembered, fueled by the joys of nostalgia and escape. 

This, Keigo realizes, is nostalgia.

Not the pain of remembering a past he wanted to forget, not looking at alleyways to remember what used to be his childhood, not thinking of the shops as someplace otherworldly. Rather, it was this. The joy of reminiscing on good times. The joy of breathing new life into old memories.

The joy he now knew was to be found in you.

“Hey.” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see you grinning, the moonlight illuminating something akin to mischief in your eyes. “Remember that old gramophone we could never figure out when we were little?”

“You mean you could never figure out. I didn’t want to touch it because Granny Tamayo is a scary, scary woman.”

And a dirty street orphan’s hands had no place on such an expensive thing.

You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, following along anyway as you set off down the path with a new purpose. The route was familiar, and Keigo already had an idea of where this was going, but who was he to speak when you were nearly buzzing with excitement?

“What I mean to say is: I figured it out, so—” You spun in place again, taking his hand, and his heart damn near stopped, “—would you like this dance? To some actual music, this time.”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? A proper lady needs the proper etiquette, after all.” His cheeky grin betrayed the politeness of his words, and you scoffed, tugging him along.

“Like you would ask me first.” Keigo’s tongue stalled around a response, scrambling for a proper comeback because you were right. Deep down, he knew that he still never would’ve asked you first for anything. It wasn’t his place. First, as a kid on the street compared to the granddaughter of the izakaya owner. Now, as a man with blood on his hands compared to an innocent civilian, untainted by the shadows of war.

Who was he to ask anything from a normal person?

“Lead the way, then.”

There was that radiant grin again, brimming with excitement and sending him reeling. Keigo couldn’t help but let your enthusiasm rub off on him as he followed you to the little communal courtyard behind Granny Tamayo’s home, where he knew that she liked to keep that Western gramophone to play for guests. You broke away to go and try and work the old machine, mumbling to yourself as you fiddled with the knobs and rifled through the records filed away in the ornate cabinet it was sitting on. 

He took the chance to look around the empty courtyard, struck with the realization that it hadn’t changed at all in the years he was gone. He left all those years ago, only to return to a town that seemed almost frozen in time. It was too far from the cities for all the modern inventions to catch up with it, so the only things that changed were, well, the people. Keigo most of all. What if he hadn’t—

The sudden burst of music and your shout of victory cut off his wandering train of thought, and you walked back into his line of vision with a triumphant grin.

“I still don’t know how to fix the tempo, so the song’s a little slow. You’ll have to forgive me for that.” You offered up your hand and tilted your head, still smiling. “May I have this dance?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Like you’d ask me first.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo grinned in well-earned defeat, and his hand slipped into yours with the other on your waist. The music swelled, and he took the first step.

One, two, three, one, two, three…

With too-slow, clumsy steps, the two of you slowly began waltzing your way around the small courtyard. You still kind of didn’t know how to work the gramophone—the song almost eerily slow, despite the years of fiddling—but that didn’t matter in the face of the giddy smiles shared, your soft laughs when he spun you in a flash of spontaneity, and the nostalgia of old times.

Before, he was a scrawny kid on the street who clumsily tried to follow the steps of the pretty girl playing a song on her father’s gramophone. Tomorrow, he would be Private First Class Takami Keigo, fighting for his life on the battlefield. Tonight, he would be normal again, slow dancing to Clair de Lune playing off an old, off-beat gramophone with you in his arms, mourning a start he didn’t get to have.

(As normal as a kid scrounging for scraps on the street could’ve been.)

Your voice, soft and wavering, broke the stillness of the moment, as if it were something taboo that shouldn’t have been uttered into existence at all.

“Keigo?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

You flushed at the endearment, the next words shattering his illusion of happiness within nostalgia with the renewed vigor of confidence in the face of the impossible.

“Will you come home?”

Home.

A simple word, really. And yet it dropped like a stone in his chest. Home meant a roof over his head. Home meant warm food on the table. Home meant a simple life in a sleepy rural town. Home meant the promise of a new beginning.

To you, “home” probably meant nothing more than the place you had known all your life.

To him, “home” meant you.

So, like a dreamer in love, he answered with all the confidence of a fool.

“Yeah... I will. I don’t care how long it’ll take me, but I’ll come home.”

He thought the shaky lilt to his voice would’ve given him away, or the way his step faltered in the already clumsy waltz as if trying to step around what he knew should’ve been the answer. 

Instead, you laughed. Something soft, and let him spin you once more.

“Well, I’ve already waited a couple years, what’s a little more waiting?”

Keigo had to keep himself from double checking if this was real. Dancing with you in the moonlight as he tried to step around the reality of that answer with all the awkward grace of a scared child.

One, two, three, one, two, three… 

Truth be told, the both of you knew the answer long before you had pushed the question into desperate existence, searching for a shred of hope. That his simple answer should have been an realistic “I don’t know” or a pessimistic “no promises”, instead of a foolish “yes.”

Instead, he slowed the waltz to a sway, pulling you close to both ingrain the feeling of you into his soul and to hopefully hide the resigned melancholy of a soldier being carted off to uncertainty.

And, for a traitorous moment, Keigo wondered.

Dreamed, even.

What would it have been like to have a “normal” life? Instead of grasping the hand of desperation, would he have grown out of the side alleys and homes made of boxes into a “respectable” man? Maybe he could’ve gotten a job at the grocer’s, at Old Yasutaro’s restaurant, or maybe even Granny Tamayo’s izakaya. Could he have—he pulled you closer, pressing a ghost of a kiss to your temple—could he have courted you the “right” way? Brought you flowers and honey-sweet words of praise and promises of a happy future, instead of a single night dancing in the moonlight with a brittle promise hanging in the tense air that the both of you clung onto like a lifeline. A promise that Keigo wasn’t even sure he could fulfill.

He would later come to regret this single moment. Of this, he was sure.

(But, as you lifted your head from his chest with glassy eyes and a shaky smile, he knew he wasn’t alone in this regret.)

Keigo knew the words that you wished to let fall into the night air, in hopes of making that brittle promise tangible. Of giving life to a bright future with three little words. The reality crawled up his throat like poison, bitter and cloying, something that he knew shouldn’t be said. Keigo settled for gently wrapping his hand around your head to pull you closer, filtering the harsh truth into something a little softer, the bittersweet tone marking the unspoken truth as a reality instead of the dreams of a future.

One… two… three… 

“Don’t,” He muttered, heart tightening as he felt you go rigid in his arms, “I know. Please, God, I know—”

You slowly relaxed in his arms with all the bitter acceptance of a night before battle, and he murmured the next words into another ghost of a kiss. A whisper against your lips, seen only by the fading notes of a song in the moonlight.

“—but don’t.”

【 ☀︎ 】

Keigo’s breath was rattling, ears ringing with war cries, death wails, and everything in between. The once-blue noon sky was now a startling haze of ash gray, thick with the choking scent of the world burning.

He couldn’t even tell where the carnage started or ended anymore.

(Would it ever end?) 

How long has it been since the first shot?

(Too long.) 

Would he live to see the sunset?

(Of all times to worry about this, why now?)

The incessant drill of artillery fire was nothing new to him, as was the stench of the battlefield that could only be described as death.  What was new, was something that pushed his aching body to keep moving, the autopilot state he usually entered backed with something raw. Something like fear.

Something like the will to survive.

The pain that set his nerves on fire has long since faded, all the pain of countless wounds blending together into something numbed by the adrenaline of survival. Were the wet patches on his uniform sweat? Blood? Both? He couldn’t tell anymore, all he knew was survival and the persistent voice whispering deadly distraction in the back of his mind.

Civilians. You’re fighting civilians, you mur—

The skin of his back prickled, the telltale whistling of something flying screeched in his ears, and his reflexes yanked him to dive out of the way before his mind could catch up. Not even a second later, another explosive detonated behind him and heat blazed across his back. His nerves screamed fresh pain into his senses and he grit his teeth, ignoring the concerning sound of sizzling over the ringing in his ears in favor of ducking into cover, collapsing against the wall of a destroyed building. 

Since when did regular people know how to make bombs?!

In the next breath, someone else had ducked into the small shelter he’d found in this hellscape of a city. 

Well, the remains of one. All hell broke loose once the other side brought homemade explosives into the fray and now, as he stared at the burning and destruction, Keigo wondered if those Westerners who muttered meaningless blessings whenever they passed were right. 

If this “Hell” they spoke of really was on Earth. 

He turned his head, suddenly sluggish, to the man that had joined him in the makeshift cover, and grinned at the familiar face.

“Hey, man.”

(Maybe giving his body a chance to slow down was a mistake.)

Touya ignored his exhausted greeting, instead opting to yank a rag from his pouch as he pulled Keigo to sit up so he could press the rag into the deep gashes the shrapnel had gouged into his back. Keigo immediately groaned in protest at the stinging pain, despite how necessary he knew it was.

“Fucking— how did you even survive that?”

“Dunno,” He let out a weak laugh, “Don’t think I will—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you myself.” Despite his harsh threat, Touya pressed the slowly darkening rag deeper into his wound. A desperate (futile) attempt to stop the life pooling onto the floor underneath them, steadily flowing from the deep gashes in his back and all the other wounds peppering his body.

“Isn’t that the exact opposite—” He hissed in pain at the pressure on his wounds, “—of what you want?” 

“Shut up.”

“You know you don’t want me doing that.”

(He was right. Keigo running his mouth meant that he was breathing. Meant that he was alive.)

Touya pressed his lips into a thin line, Keigo blearily tracking the way his burn scars pulled with the movement. 

Grounding himself, that’s what he’s supposed to do during times like this, right? Hell, he didn’t know. Not every day he came so close to death. Touya really needed to look into something for those sc—

“For the love of the gods, I am begging you to shut up.”

Ah, he said all that out loud? He managed to muster up a sheepish grin, despite Touya’s grim expression.

“Ooh, Touya? Begging? That’s a first, I should stay awake to hear it.” Keigo didn’t have to look to know that the rag was soaked through and Touya was fighting against the inevitable at this point. Keigo? He… he was too tired to fight to keep his eyes open. Too cold.

“Maybe you should stay awake to go home, loverboy.”

“I should.” He fumbled to find purchase, pressing his palm into the ground and scooting his feet closer for leverage. “Can’t leave Y/N waiting after all.”

Maybe it was the delirium from the blood-loss, or the desperation of this cursed situation, but Keigo tried to pull himself up. To move, to get somewhere safer, somewhere where he could survive. His palm slipped on the blood-slick floor underneath him and he came crashing down once more, his strength disappearing along with it as he slumped against Touya.

“Ah—”

“Shit, I’ll get you to the medic.” 

Keigo groaned at the pain of his wounds being jostled as Touya tried to haul the deadweight of his sluggish body up. The reality of the situation weighed heavy on his shoulders (or was it his strength leaving him?) and he licked his chapped lips, whispering the grim truth into the ash-hazy air.

“I’m not gonna make it to the medic.”

“How many times do I have to keep telling you to shut up?” Another attempt to pull him to his feet, and Keigo managed to push out a weak laugh.

“Just a couple more times.”

“Hey… hey, c’mon now, I still have to make fun of you and Y/N for being the most disgusting couple I’ve ever met.” He carefully shook Keigo, trying desperately to get him to keep his drooping eyes open.

“Aw, don’t tease Y/N too badly.”

Something changed in Touya’s voice, a block in his throat that he had to force his words through, and he clutched the dripping rag closer to his wounds as he muttered out his response.

“I won’t.”

“Good, good,” Keigo’s hands clumsily fumbled for the cord wrapped over his chest, tugging at it until it came loose. “Hey, can you tell Y/N that I’ll do my best to come home? In any way I can.”

“...Just do it yourself.” 

“Mm, that would… that would be nice. Coming home, I mean. I promised… Y/N… I would…”

His words faded, and Touya froze, arms suspended in midair around the slumped form of his best friend, his stunned gaze locked on the identification tag hanging from a limp, bloody hand.

“Kei...go?”

【 ☀︎ 】

Waiting was agony.

You used to think you were a patient person, years of dealing with drunks, horrible customers, and everything in between training the patience of a saint into you. 

Today, however, revealed that you were anything but. The moment the company had crested the hill and out of sight, your anxieties slowly overcame you the farther they went. Working in the izakaya helped, the constant flow of customers and orders kept you on your feet and your thoughts off the battle that was no doubt waging mere miles away. Every so often, a wandering patron would come in murmuring that they heard bits and pieces of the battle, and you forced yourself to forget again.

All that effort was lost once the company’s runner came barreling through the town, shouting that the soldiers were on their way back. That they needed spaces cleared for the wounded and their lodgings secured. They called for the doctor, they called for food, they called for supplies. 

If you didn’t know any better, it would’ve sounded like a cry for help.

Word spread like wildfire, and the rush of serving customers turned into the rush of trying to help prepare for the soldiers’ return. None of it helped get your mind off the one thing you didn’t want to worry about. If anything, it just shoved all your worries to the forefront of your mind, accompanied by the dull headaches of something you hoped were just random fantasies.

(Fantasies of a lotus garden, a guarded grin, a red hairpin, a betrayal—)

Would he have to be wrapped in the bandages you were carrying? Would he have to rest in the bedding in your hands? Would he be able to eat the food your grandmother was preparing?

Then, they came. 

A slow straggle of wounded and weary men, leaning and limping on each other as they slowly trickled in through the main street.

There were many things that wouldn’t happen, you would later realize, watching the company trudge back into the town. Their formation was shaky from the hobbling wounded, and you felt your heart drop as you desperately searched the noticeably thinner crowd, trying to peek through the uniforms and bandages and dented helmets for any sign that he had come home. That he had survived.

How many men did they lose?

(Too many.)

You watched the flow of soldiers slowly follow their commander to their lodgings and the doctor, the once boisterous crowd now silent and battle-worn. The rookie that had just been under a chokehold the other night was now cradling bandaged wounds and a gaunt expression that only told of his first brushes with death.

One soldier broke from the crowd to make his way towards you, and—for a fleeting moment—you hoped. 

And just as quickly as it came, that hope you had soon sunk into despair once you saw who it was, and what he held in his scarred hands.

Across the street, a man broke rank, with a heavier burden than most would’ve thought and few would ever experience. He hoped that no one would have to experience this, a death and the task of delivering such news weighing heavy on his shoulders.

Life, Touya thinks, is cruel.

It left such a brilliant mind like Keigo to starve with him on the streets.

It forced him to run to the military in desperation, searching for steady food and shelter.

It snatched away the one man who had salvation waiting for him.

Death, Touya grieves, is even crueler.

Keigo would never get to go home.

He wouldn’t get to see the joy on your face once you welcomed him home with open arms. 

(How could he? When your expression twists into something akin to dawning horror instead of joy, watching Touya make his way up to you with downcast eyes and a heavy bundle of fabric carefully cradled in his palm.)

He wouldn’t get to start the new life he deserved, in a sleepy rural town with the one he adored.

He wouldn’t get to fulfill his promise to you.

A promise that everyone knew was too risky a promise to make. Yet, he believed enough to make it to you.

A promise that Touya holds back on his tongue because he knew this—a little metal disc on a bloodstained cord—wouldn’t fulfill it, not when he hands you the neat square of scrap fabric and watches your tears flow before you even open it. Not when you slip out a worn identification tag, holding it up to the sunset to try and make out the letters you already knew were there.

A lantern illuminates what the fading sunlight could not, casting the stamped characters of Keigo’s bloodied name in an amber glow, and you crumble.

【 ☀︎ 】

Dawn finds Professor Takami, Head of the Sociology Department, first through the doors of the campus café with essays to be finished grading in one hand and his laptop bag in the other.

The cashier greets him with a familiar warmth as he steps up to the counter, his staple order already halfway punched into the register with a knowing smile that he forces himself to return. There’s a nervous energy simmering under his skin that he can’t seem to shake, and it shows. The barista (Touya. His name is Touya. He literally has one of the guy’s essays in his hand, fucking hell. Get it together, Keigo) shoots the normally easygoing professor a worried look as he slides the warmed pastry across the counter to him, the full sleeves of swirling blue and black ink a stark contrast against the smooth wood of the counter.

“Everything good with you, Professor?”

“Perfect, now that I got my pastry. Think I’ll be even better once I drink some coffee.” 

Nothing was perfect, and he couldn’t even put a finger on what it was. 

He plastered a convincing smile on his face as he picked up the too-heavy plate, careful to hold it steady before making a beeline for his usual table. The faster he got to sit down at his usual corner booth and sort himself out, the better. 

He knew that he would just drown himself in grading papers instead of figuring out what was making him feel off, but it was the thought that counted.

The hum of energy under his skin was nothing new to him. Something deep inside that made him almost jumpy, wary of the peaceful days that had consumed his entire life, lying in wait for… something. For what? Keigo wished he knew.

(For battles yet started, for warcries yet sung, for survival yet fought for.)

All he knew was that the strange hum that threatened to vibrate him out of his own skin was different this time. Wrong. It didn’t help that his sleep had been suffering for the past week, plagued by dreams and nightmares both of eras past, the blurry picture of the same person a constant sight in the swirling mix of history. Images flickering between a secluded lotus garden and an elaborate kimono to an old izakaya and Clair de Lune at moonrise. Images of yearning and blood and tragedy and endings before the beginnings.

At least his conversations with the once-intimidating Japanese Literature professor got a smidge more interesting.

With the resolute click of a red pen, he swept away the thoughts clouding his mind as he resigned himself to his fate of just dealing with the strange mood for now, fully intent on getting to work. Years of repetition and muscle memory had him opening up his email with practiced ease, quietly sighing to himself as he waited for the doubtlessly endless emails from students and colleagues alike to load. 

Would procrastinating just the tiniest bit by fiddling with the rolled cuffs of his sleeves or pushing up his glasses for the nth time help at all? 

No, but it let Keigo expel the weirdly restless energy in what ways he could, the creeping sense of foreboding setting his nerves into overdrive. The page loaded and he frowned at the onslaught of emails he knew were going to flood his inbox. 

Hell, he expected them to.

What he didn’t expect were the contents, the subject lines all variations of “Did you know?” and “There’s no way” and “I can’t believe it” from colleagues he didn’t even talk to regularly. Sure, the email from the cultural anthropology professor made sense, but the graphic design professor? The head of the business department?

Before he could open the first email of many, his laptop chirped out the familiar ‘ding!’ of a new email, the sound rippling through the café as everyone’s phones and laptops lit up with the same message. 

A schoolwide email? Okay, th—

The world slowed to a crawl, everyone in the packed coffee shop silencing almost at once and the shocked whispers rippling throughout the space only serving to make the silence all the more deafening (“Hey, check your email.” and “Look at this.” and “No way.” and it was too loud someone please make it stop—), his ears near ringing as he struggled to tear his gaze away from the picture embedded at the top of the page.

“Looking a little rough there.” The cotton suddenly stuffing his ears muffled the barista’s voice and would’ve made him jump out of his skin had he been focused on anything but burning the email into his eyes. God, he’d barely even registered the guy coming up to serve his coffee, what was wrong with him? “Professor? Was it that email?”

“Y-Yeah, I just read it.” He cleared his throat and slid the mug closer to himself, taking a sip of the scalding hot coffee to ground himself as he stared at the picture of you. 

The barista merely arched a pierced brow and muttered a soft “ah.” before going back to his spot behind the espresso machine, vibrant blue eyes tracking the rattled professor suspiciously. Keigo was too preoccupied to thank him as he usually would’ve. Too preoccupied with what was staring back at him from his laptop screen.

A picture placed right under the subject line plastering “Unfortunate news about Prof. L/N Y/N” across his screen, the few words in the body text (that he could pick out through the sudden tidal wave of memories past clicking into place) painted an image that he couldn’t help but mourn.

After being reported missing… remains found… will be missed.

Will be missed… 

Well, now that he thought about it, Keigo had been missing you all his life, hadn’t he? 

Both figuratively and literally, always arriving after you left and vice versa, never really seeming to connect in person. Any emails were shrouded with a veil of professionalism that he couldn’t pierce through. Yet, there were things so irrevocably you that he knew to pick out now. The jovial note at the end of your emails, the unapologetically confident sharpness to your words, the extra mug you left for the next person that passed through the faculty lounge (that somehow always ended up being him on the days he was rushing to his next lecture). 

All these things, all these moments, and the fool had passed all of them by.

The restless energy humming under his skin through his entire being disappeared much quicker than it had come, its job done, leaving a gaping  void in its wake that was shockingly familiar. Almost as if this wasn’t the first time this had happened, where the curtains never raised on the beginning you two could’ve had. He took a shuddering, stabilizing breath (that didn’t work), too numb to feel the freshly brewed coffee scalding his tongue that he had hoped would pull him back to reality, hoped the sweet taste would wash away the bitterness at the back of his throat and the splitting headache of years upon years of memories crashing into him like a tidal wave.

Professor Takami had work to get done.

Keigo could mourn later.

Even as he convinced himself of that, he couldn’t even bring himself to brush the dead lotus petals off his work, the sight of the wilted centerpiece only bringing more pain. The cruel coincidence of the once bloomed flowers now dead in his hands didn’t go unnoticed, and Keigo desperately tried to bore the printed words laid in front of him into his mind. 

As if doing that would sear away the sudden onslaught of memories, dead lotus petals igniting a yearning for a long-demolished lotus garden and a pretty concubine who didn’t belong in the palace (or was it a small town and the life he could’ve had?) and the love that slipped through his fingers once more.

Did you go through this too? When he—

The half-graded essays lay untouched for the rest of the day, red ink disappearing in the crimson light cast by the setting sun.

【 ☀︎ 】

When did I…?

He blinked down at the concrete under his feet, stunned, before looking up to see an endless sea of trains passing in front of him. The incessant rushing of the trains around him had replaced the silence of the hotel room he was supposed to be sound asleep in, the too-rhythmic noise of the train tracks surrounding him in an almost ethereal white noise. 

I had just gone to bed… How did I end up at a train station?

He winced at the glare of the midday sun reflecting off of the last car of the train passing in front of him, before stopping short at the sight of someone standing on the other side of the tracks—alone—revealed by the passing train. His heart leapt into his throat and pushed a name he didn’t know and wouldn’t remember out of his lips. There was no way he knew her, the multi-layered kimono and elegant hairpins looked like something out of a millenia-old ukiyo-e print and wholly out of place in a modern train station. But... something deep in his soul knew that it was right, and it sang as he watched the woman turn around. 

“You’re dreaming right now, Keigo. Go back to sleep,”

“What…?” 

“It’s true,” The woman tilted her head with the soft smile that he’d missed so much (missed? Wasn’t this his first time seeing it?) and the ancient hairpieces jingled and swayed with the movement, his gaze locking on a familiar crimson gemstone catching the sunlight, “Don’t believe me? Try to count some numbers, then. One… two…”

Another train hurtled past, blocking his view once more as her painted lips moved soundlessly around the final number.

“Three.”

Keigo sat up with a gasp, staring at the soft shafts of light the sunrise painted on the walls.

It was the start of a new day, and he found himself mourning something lost that he couldn’t even remember.

Dawn finds Hawks, the number two hero, leaping out of his Tokyo hotel window, wind catching on vermilion wings to buffer his descent to the sidewalk.

He was far from home, his current mission dragging him all the way to Tokyo from his agency in Fukuoka. Sneakers touched concrete, and he started down the path where he was supposed to meet with the last person he wanted to see right now. Especially after that mess with the High-End Nomu. He shuddered, spreading his wings as if to remind himself that they were all there, recovered after that hellish fight.

Come to the location on foot, he’d been told, and don’t be conspicuous.

Weird request, and it was kind of hard to remain inconspicuous when he was the number two hero and had a pair of bright red wings announcing his identity to the world. Alas, he needed to cooperate or else he’d end up jeopardizing the entire mission, so Keigo settled for ditching his hero costume in favor of casual clothes and a cap to hide his identity. He pulled a mask over his nose and tucked his wings closer to further help conceal himself as he walked down the street, dipping into the first alley he saw.

His path through the grid of alleyways and side streets had already been mapped out the days before, so it was just a matter of making the short trek there. Unfortunately, the area wasn’t the best, and Keigo found himself slowed by sidestepping trash and the occasional bottle of liquor. The scent of stale alcohol only brought unpleasant fragments of memories, and he pushed them aside in favor of quickening his pace.

“My, not every day I see such a bigshot hero pass by.”

He almost tripped over another bottle, wings ruffling in surprise as he cursed himself for being caught off guard.

There was an old woman sitting there, a steaming cup of tea in her hands as she sat outside her quaint little storefront. 

A flower shop, in this secluded side street? 

“Ah, sorry, ma’am, you have the wrong person. I mean, me? The number 2 pro hero?” He was quick to deny her, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. She merely hummed and took another sip of her tea.

“Do I? Well, this old woman’s eyes aren’t what they used to be after all.” She set down the cup and stepped out of her chair, shuffling over to the water feature on the other side of the doorway that served as an attraction. He could see why, the soft rush of the small waterfall and fragrant lotuses drawing his attention the more he stared.

Suddenly, the woman plucked one of the younger lotuses, patting the stem dry before handing it to him with a smile.

“Uh—”

“You saved my son that day, from the Nomu attack in Fukuoka. This is the least I could do.”

Against his better judgement—he really needed to get going to catch the train in time—he took the half-bloomed lotus in his hands and pulled down his mask to smile at her.

“Your eyes are… actually pretty sharp, ma’am. Thank you.”

She laughed, sitting back in her seat and sent him on his way. The rest of the walk went smoothly after that, and he soon found himself jogging up the stairs to the station, muttering under his breath as he checked his watch. 

Right on time.

【 ☀︎ 】

A strange sense of deja vu creeped into his chest as he stepped onto the platform in Minami-senju station. He’d been feeling off all day, and the weird sense of familiarity that had been tugging at the back of his mind didn’t help. Luckily, he’d managed to arrive in time to catch the noon train so the rest of his schedule should hopefully go smoothly from here. A departing train screeched into motion, and he winced at the rippling glare of sunlight that reflected into his eyes, the strange deja vu rearing its head again.

Keigo stared at the train passing in front of him as he idly twirled the lotus stem in between his fingers. The words left his lips before he could catch himself.

“One… two…” He cut himself off with a sigh, dropping his head and dragging a hand over his face.

It was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

Keigo.

His head shot up at the sound of his name, the world darkening under the shade of a passing cloud. Did he just imagine that? He had to. The train station was practically stranded, and there was no one even close enough to call his name without shouting across the station (if they even knew his name in the first place). Despite his better judgement, he wet his lips and shut his eyes, the strangely familiar words passing his lips once more as he desperately tried to recall the familiarity he longed for.

“One…”

I want to see you.

“Two…” 

I don’t even know who you are, but I miss you anyway.

“Three—”

Suddenly, the steady rhythm of the train tracks silenced and left him with the raging drum of his heartbeat, the blood rushing in his ears as he stared at the person standing on the other side of the tracks. The emerging sun smiled upon him, casting the world in light once more as his voice locked around a familiar name he’d never spoken.

It started as a hushed whisper, and he swallowed the lump in his throat to call the name thrice ingrained into his soul.

“Y/N!”

The familiar smile that bloomed across your lips was answer enough as he pushed through the newly arrived train to the other side, to you. He reached out, clawing through the rush hour crowd (why were there so many people? Why were you so far? Closer, closer, closer—) and he nearly sobbed in relief as you fell into his arms, clinging to each other as your souls finally, finally, melded together as one. Now and forevermore.

The questions could come later, but now... he had a promise to fulfill.

He was home.

notes: minami-senju train station is located in very close proximity (a two-minute walk) from what is left of the kozukappara execution grounds, where a temple now stands in its place. he’s made quite the journey to come full circle, hasn’t he?

[oftenderweapons]

heyhey! if possible, i’d like to place my order for a strawberry smoothie + spinach & artichoke dip + clam chowder + bbq sandwich. thank youuuu 💕💕

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Genre: smut. Final fluff. But mostly smut. Pining. Drabble for Bangtan Bistro

Rating: 18+

Tonight we’re serving

- Strawberry Smootie: Kim Taehyung

- Spinach and Artichoke dip: Smut

- Clam Chowder: “What do you mean my meal has already been paid for?” (It’s been rephrased for stylistic purposes)

- BBQ sandwich: Celebrity in Disguise (you need to squint but I swear it’s there just read till the end LOL disguise might have been taken a bit too literally)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: okay, mild alcohol consumption (wine, brandied cherries), swearing, dirty talking, heavy flirting, making out, oral sex (sixty-nine, face fucking male receiving), brief masturbation (male and female receiving), briefest mention of rimming female receiving (just a quick lick *wink wonk*), quite rough sex, manhandling, one degrading comment, impregnation kink and breeding kink, lactation kink (I guess), mild bondage (knees), outright ramming, cumeating and creampie. Final soft, sweet surprise I don’t wanna spoil, I promise it’s a good thing.

Remember to vote for next prompt here and here is my complete masterlist!

Also, lemme self promote my new Taehyung AU

Bfbfhreb there, ready to go! Enjoy 💜✨

Feeling the scorching hotness against your spine was exciting. His eyes were there, planted against the see-through back of your blouse and you could feel them like molten metal dripping down your skin.

He was following the line of pearl buttons tracing your spine, holding close the sheer peacock blue gossamer.

Taehyung licked his lips subconsciously, his mind already wild with pictures of his fingers snapping every button open, one by one.

“Sir, may I ask your order?” A waiter interrupted his musings.

The young man startled. “Steak. Rare. And… Uhm, you do have a Nobile di Montepulciano 2018, right? Just a glass. One for the lady at the bar too. Roasted vegetables with the steak.” He closed the menu and placed it on the table. He loosened his tie discreetly.

The waiter checked the wine chart and confirmed the order. “The steak right away? No appetisers?” He asked.

Taehyung followed you as a polished waitress accompanied you to a table across the room, the iridescent fabric of your top shimmering in a holographic effect under the soft light of the chandeliers.

“No appetisers,” he confirmed, his eyes never leaving you. “About that glass of merlot for the lady. She has moved over there,” he curtly indicated the direction with a nod of his chin. Looking at the waiter he searched the backpocket of his slacks. “Now,” He extracted his wallet, looking for a note and laying a 50,000 won piece on the table. “I know this might come off as rude but I’m asking for more than food, so…” Taehyung let the sentence fall eloquently. “Tell me something about her. Name, phone number, shoe size, I don’t care as long as I get to see her again.”

The waiter’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course, sir. She usually comes here with her friends, but tonight apparently she is by herself. They usually come on Thursday night.”

Thursday, of course.

Taehyung smiled. “Thank you. But I need a bit more than that.”

“I’ll come back with more, I promise.” The waiter bowed politely and left. Shortly after, Taehyung noticed the waiter walking to your table bottle in hand, gesturing to the other table as he talked to you discreetly. From the distance he could recognise a small smirk aimed in his direction, before you turned to the waiter, batting your lashes as you nodded.

He noticed a set of earrings glimmering like twin stars at your earlobes, while a fine thread of diamonds adorned your neck, matching the other pair of jewels.

The waiter poured your wine and leaned towards you, the epitome of politeness as he explained the situation very elegantly.

You were slightly surprised but didn’t let his words sway you too much. Keeping a sphinx-like composure you said something Taehyung couldn’t decipher from the distance, the waiter walking in his direction straight away.

“The lady said she is waiting for you to drink, sir.”

Glass half full, Taehyung lifted it in your direction, waiting for you to mirror the gesture. He cocked an eyebrow as you did, tipping the rim in your direction before bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip, observing your red lips lay on the glass while your neck stretched.

Watching your throat move as you swallowed was a vision too erotic for him to handle, and he politely fixed his stance, trying to alleviate his need.

Just as his steak was delivered, he was struck by surprise as the same dish was served at your table.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought it a shame that you and him were sitting alone, ten metres apart at two different tables.

A part of him was pleased to realise that you had specifically asked his exact same order; however, his ego was drastically redimensioned once you started eating. You were a tease, licking your lips as the juices from the meat glistened on the deep scarlet colour of your lip tint. He felt embarrassed at the amount of details he could see now thanks to arousal, feeling like a predator as he studied your hands gripping the cutlery, your mouth opening wide for a bite too big, and the wine. He loved watching you drink. He loved watching the diamonds twinkle as your throat moved.

He was almost sad the moment he noticed you had both finished the food.

“Please, put the lady’s bill on me,” the waiter nodded as he took the empty dishes away.

“She wanted me to tell you her shoe size is seven and a half and that she doesn’t want anything less than six inches.”

Taehyung snickered and looked at the table cloth as he felt his cheeks blush. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but would you tell the lady that I’m interested in another kind of number?”

“About that, she mentioned 100-85-120. I believe you can understand perfectly.” The waiter commented. “May I bring the dessert chart? Or would you perhaps be interested in today’s special?”

Taehyung nodded to himself. “What about your divine flaming cherry bites?”

The waiter bowed his head in acknowledgement. “For the lady too?”

Taehyung smiled. “Yes.”

The older man was glad to assist the young customer, not at all because of the tip — he would have considered it rude from anyone else, however the warm smiles and the way he used honorifics and register had the man trusting the wealthy, polished kid. He almost felt fatherly sympathy for the smooth charmer sitting at the table: he looked at the woman with nothing but adoration and devotion. There were at least twenty women in the room, some of which had way more skin on show, and way sultrier looks; still, he only had eyes for you.

Once dessert was delivered at both your tables, the flirting resumed, your instincts awakening dangerously as he made a fine work of licking his fingertips, stained with the chocolate sauce covering the brandied cherries elegantly placed on a small pastry basket.

It was your turn to catch fire as you stared at his deep, dark eyes, his unwavering glance, and the beautiful shape of his mouth, his brown, wavy locks pushed back elegantly. He looked like the devil.

And you had every intention of burning in his flames.

As you asked for the bill, the waiter shook his head politely. “The gentleman at the table over there has already taken care of it, miss.”

Your eyebrows shot up before you smirked. “Then I think I should stop by and thank him.”

“He’ll be more than glad, miss.”

“Thank you for your help. I hope your shift will proceed smoothly, mr Lim.” You rose to your feet.

“It is always a pleasure having you here. Greet your friends on my behalf.”

You chuckled gently. The kind, warm man had seen you and your mates come across the foyer so many times, for dinner or for drinks. He always exchanged greetings and was always happy whenever you asked him about his family and the business. “Will do. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, miss.”

You took slow steps in the man’s direction, stopping beside him. “I believe I owe you a thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He said, looking up at you.

“What if I wanted to thank you.” You replied slowly and quietly.

“How?”

“An empty hotel room can be very lonely.” You said, looking at your feet and toying with a keycard in your hands. “I’ve booked a room to celebrate my birthday and let me tell you everything has been so dull so far.” You pouted a little before shrugging casually. “Maybe we could turn the night a little brighter.”

“I am a gentleman, I don’t really like visiting ladies in their private rooms.” He looked away theatrically. “However, how would I disappoint such a refined woman? And leave you all alone on your birthday. I believe that would be unforgivable.”

“Indeed.” You confirmed.

As he stood up, he placed an arm around your waist. “Sorry, I tend to be an old school romantic. Stop me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I love a bit of romance.” You smiled at him, batting your lashes seducingly. “What brings you here for a lonely dinner?”

“Business.” He replied curtly.

You snickered. “Of course.”

“Floor?” He asked once in the lift.

“Thirty-fourth,” you replied, fixing your skirt.

“Pretty high up,” he commented, pressing the button.

You resisted ten floors before staring at his lips. By floor fourteen his mouth landed on yours, sucking your lower lip, enjoying the plumpness of it before he opened wide, his tongue sliding out and entering your mouth, tickling your palate before swirling round your appendage.

His palm caressed your side, reaching your asscheek and squeezing it, his throat emitting a low hum.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold on anymore,” he apologised as he parted from you once the doors dinged and opened.

You fixed your hair, his hand gesturing for you to lead the way — an excellent excuse to stare at your behind as you walked in front of him.

Once you reached the door, he kissed your nape while you slipped the keycard into the lock. His hands were already fumbling with the tiny buttons before the door would even buzz open.

“You can call me Nymph.” You said, as his hands proceeded working the small buttons.

“Of course. I'm Sir to you.” He stated sternly.

You smiled and shook your head. “Of course.”

You turned around and took off your shirt. “Get yourself naked.” You said distractedly.

He clenched his jaw at your command but obeyed nonetheless. “Nothing less than six inches?” He commented as you slipped off your heels, his glance following the red soles of your stilettos.

With a hand to his chest you pushed him with his back to the wall and teasingly dragged your palm all the way to his belt, lingering there a while before moving further down. “I’m sure you can deliver.”

“In kind.” He smirked, his eyes rolling shut as your fingers teased him over his slacks.

“Naked, now, sir.” You ordered.

“A hungry Nymph we have here.” He commented, undoing his necktie and throwing it on the bed. Next, he only undid the buttons necessary to get his shirt off. His undershirt was gone in seconds, just as your blouse and skirt disappeared, your body clad in a burnt pink silk slip.

Taehyung licked his lips and undid his belt, kicking his slippers close to the door before getting rid of his trousers lightning fast.

“Shall I get on the bed?” You asked, taking a few steps back.

“Oh no. Stay right there, Nymph.” He ordered, standing in nothing but his underwear before placing his hands around your waist and pulling you closer, kissing your neck, your chest, your hardened nipples hidden underneath the smooth silk. He began walking you backwards to the bed.

“Climb,” he purred once the back of your calves touched the mattress, making you turn to face the bed, your body kneeling on the comforter before he pushed your front down, getting you on all fours. He flipped your slip up, exposing your skimpy panties. “I’m gonna rip these.” he growled before biting your ass.

“Don’t. Just take them off.” You replied, turning around to look at him with imploring eyes. You didn't want to ruin the set.

He followed your request, immediately dipping his nose in your wetness once he managed to unstick the fabric from your folds. Shamelessly, he moaned as his tongue went from your dripping hole to your puckered one, laving it lewdly.

“Yes, Sir.” You keened, pushing back against his tongue.

He chuckled, parting from you, standing to his feet and taking off his boxers.

His cock pulsated painfully at the sight of you, at the way you stared at him while he reached the other side of the bed and laid down, settling in the middle, his erection right below your awaiting mouth.

You tried to lower yourself and swallow his tip, however he stopped you. “Get on my face right now, Nymph. I wanna see if you taste as expensive as you look.” He growled.

You simply licked your lips, his cock twitching as your hot exhale caressed his flushed skin. He was so veiny, and all you wanted to do was check if you could feel that against your inner walls. Straddling his face, you settled on top of him, not wasting a second before taking him in your mouth now that he was underneath you, under your control.

He moaned sinfully, his breath hitting your moist skin before his tongue flicked against your entrance, eliciting a contented hum.

For a few minutes all you could hear was the sounds of you sucking his cock, wet slurps filling your ears as your mouth became messy with saliva and his precum. At the same time, Taehyung was enjoying your cunt covering his whole face in juices, while some of his own spit eventually landed on his cheeks, coating his chin and nose too.

He was starved, shameless, wild. He parted from your folds only long enough to say 'naked, now'.

It didn't feel like there was any room for insubordination.

You freed his cock only long enough to remove your slip, sucking it back in your mouth before you took off your bra. As his hands met your breasts, grabbing them with thrilling pain, you felt him push you upwards away from his sex.

“I don't want to cum in your mouth. Gimme that tight, dripping cunt, Nymph,” he growled, touching your clit while his tongue teased the softest flesh of your labia.

“I'm going to ride your face, Sir?” You asked, feeling your breasts starting to bounce as your hips began grinding against him.

“Fuck my face, sweetness.” He replied, your body following his command straight away, your mouth opening in brainless, fucked out whimpers as your orgasm approached.

He kept going.

And even when you started to cum, he went on.

Even when you were humping against him ruthlessly, violently, he continued.

And when he noticed a second high take over, he outright refused to let go, no matter if you cried and begged and yelped.

He only calmed down once he felt you grab his cock and begin to stroke.

He slapped your mound violently, growling minaciously before he pushed you forward, on all fours, grabbing your thighs and opening his legs so that your front fell against the mattress once he pulled your knees from beneath you, placing your drenched core right against his crotch.

His stronger hand spanked your ass. “I told you I want to cum in your cunt and that's what you do?” He hit again. “Touch me so I'll have to cum on my belly like a teen nerd?” Another spank. “Hope you're gonna stay put now.”

He maneuvered the tip to your hole, sliding the head inside.

You purred and whined once you felt him sheathed deep in your core.

The angle was majestic. His upward curve teased the back of your vagina, rubbing against all the right spots, the soft head pressing against the inner nerves of your clitoris.

Just as you tried moving your hips against him, he sat up straighter and grabbed your hips, shoving you on his cock with breakneck speed, making your front burn with the friction against the sheets.

“Sir, please. Please it burns.” You called, desperate after a minute or so, feeling your control slip.

He gave a few more thrusts before he realised you had voiced discomfort. “Inside? Am I going too fast, does it hurt?” He spoke with tenderness and apprehension.

You shook your head. “My chest against the sheets.” You explained with a small whine.

He nodded and laid down,catching your leg and leading it in a half circle motion, helping you roll on your back as you unstraddled him.

However, his kindness was short-lived. As soon as he found your calves beside his chest, he grabbed your ankles and sat up, bending your knees and blocking them with his forearm; his free hand searched for the necktie and, once he found it, he expertly slid it beneath your legs, and then around them, tying a knot above the swell of your calves.

You stared at him with your mouth open, eyes wide and inquisitive before a naughty grin lit up your face.

He rose to his knees, crawling closer to you, bending your knees to your chest and letting your ankles settle over his left shoulder.

“Hold on tight, Nymph.” He said, bracing a hand beside your face as he lined his shaft with your cunt, sliding in effortlessly, grunting at the unspeakable tightness of your sex. “Fuck me so good, sweetness.” He mumbled. “I'm gonna rail you.” He groaned as he felt his balls tighten. “I'm gonna fill you up and watch those tits grow once you're full of my babies.” He teased. “Now you're gonna milk this cock and take every drop of my cum.”

You mewled at his sinful intent, squeezing round him and feeling his hand generously finger your clit.

“Please, fill me up. Please. I want to be heavy with your babies.”

“And you're gonna lactate them.” He whispered darkly at your ear, making the gesture feel so dirty, even though it was just natural mammal anatomy.

“I will, Sir.” You cried out, feeling your end tower over you.

“And once they're done suckling, I'll take my turn.” He growled. He had only maybe three strokes left before he would cum.

“I'm yours. All yours. Please, breed me, Sir. I'm yours,” you wailed, voice close to breaking.

“You are my horny little cumslut,” he snarled before joining your mouth with his, covering both your and his cries as you finally reached the peak.

His cock drilled deep into you as he coated your inner walls in cum, the hotness and stickiness of it pouring out of you and gluing him to your entrance.

It felt magnificent.

“I know you.” He whispered gently at your ear. “My most precious darling.”

You were still drifting ecstatically, your eyes opening slowly, lazily.

“Hello Lace.” He cooed at you, smiling softly. “Welcome back, my love.”

You mirrored his smirk and wiggled your feet against his shoulder. “Hello, my beloved fiancé. Would you please do me the courtesy of untying that?” You arched an eyebrow.

He chuckled and obeyed, almost expecting you to slide off of him; instead, you simply moved a leg to his other side and crossed your ankles behind him to tug him close to you.

“That impregnation thingie really got you going, uh?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He nodded and kissed your chest, cupping it softly and pecking your nipples, your skin still flushed from the burning friction and the recent orgasm. “Even though I know you're covered, I find the idea so sexy.” He confirmed, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “You looked very hot in that outfit. It really made me want to seduce you all over again.”

“It was fun watching you act the part. You even tipped the waiter.” You chuckled.

“You told me your measurements, Miss 'no less than six inches'.” He kissed your earlobe. “Do you know they're the combination of the apartment safe?”

You laughed and then quieted down for a second. “I wanted to jump your bones the very moment I saw you.”

“Happy to know my future wife still gets the hots for me.” He commented, matter-of-factly.

You giggled quietly. “I love you.”

He combed your hair slowly, tenderly. “I love you too.”

[scuttle-buttle]

WC: 1097

Rated: T

Tags: discussions of hormonal birth control, unplanned pregnancy, anxiety, mild hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic life, German

A/N: Bob Fucking Ross.

🎨

The edge of the bathtub was cold against the back of your thighs. You stared at the little vial of liquid on the countertop in front of you, barely blinking. Glancing at the paper in your hands you read “20 minutes is all it takes!” That’s twenty minutes too long, you huff.

You hadn’t been feeling well the last week or two, but you hadn’t thought anything of it until this morning when you became violently ill. Niki insisted you take the day off from work to rest. “It’s probably just stress. Sara starting kindergarten has been a lot for you,” he told you.

Now, as you sit in your bathroom eyes glued to the at-home pregnancy test you aren’t so sure.

You and Niki had never discussed the potential of having another baby. He had one more season planned in Formula 1 before retirement; you had managed to be the first woman to co-head your department at the museum. Sara was your pride and joy. Despite his denying it, Niki spoiled her to death. You were all so, so happy.

And on top of everything you had never gone off the pill - the pill which isn’t 100% effective in preventing this kind of thing. But you were irritable and hungry and bloated and just felt plain icky. It was like having an itch that you just couldn’t find to scratch. Something wasn’t adding up with you lately, which is why you found yourself in your bathroom chewing your lip off.

Twenty minutes must have passed as you sat unblinking. The little vial of liquid slowly turned a bright blue color.

Pregnant.

You bite the inside of your cheek, unsure if you are happy or absolutely petrified. Well definitely petrified, but in an excited way or like when having to get a tooth pulled? Spreading your legs, you drop your head to hang between them. After a few minutes of deep breathing you feel collected enough to clean up and dispose of the test. As an afterthought you move your birth control prescription from the mirror cabinet away to a drawer.

Niki should be home with Sara within the next hour, so you make yourself comfortable on the couch. Before allowing yourself to fester in your own consciousness you call your doctor to schedule an appointment for the upcoming week. Just to be safe, you tell yourself. Turning the television on you flip to some daytime soap opera. You easily lose yourself in the white noise of the show, although you find yourself not paying any attention to the story.

Pregnant. Carrying Niki’s baby. Maybe with his chocolatey eyes, those soft curls, or even a set of mismatched lips just like their father. The longer you wait and the deeper your thoughts run, the more excited you get at the prospect of having another of his children.

The sound of the doorknob turning breaks you from your mind. Pattering footsteps echo through the foyer; “Mama? Me and Papa are home!”

Sara throws herself into your outstretched arms, “I see that, love.” You kiss the top of her ringlets. “How was school?”

“So good! Me and Tony played race cars - I won the race of course!” Her sass was unmatched, like it was obvious that only she could have possibly won in an imaginary grand prix. Niki has busied himself putting away her school bag and sweater.

“Well of course you did, you’re a Lauda!” you nod enthusiastically. Quiter, you add “why don’t you go play in your room for a bit so I can talk with Papa, yeah?” You give an exaggerated kiss to her nose and she runs off in the direction of her room.

Niki comes to sit next to you. He runs the back of his hand across your forehead as if to check for a fever. “How are you feeling, liebe? Did you rest?”

“A lot better, yeah. I think in the end I’ll be alright.” You play with the lint on the cushion.

“Good, I was getting worried about you, you’ve been acting strange the last week. Hopefully the bug has passed.”

You lick your lips and turn your body to face his. “Actually… about that... There’s something we need to talk about, Niki.” He looks at you expectantly; you aren’t sure how he’s bound to react to such news.

“I’m not sick...” You pause. “I’m pregnant.”

Niki’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I thought we were being safe - that you were taking-?”

You interrupt; “I am taking it, or I was anyway before today. No method is perfect, Niki. I’ve got an appointment scheduled for next week to be safe.” Worry is evident on your face.

Your husband’s eyes search your own. “And you’re sure? Das ist kein witz?” he asks lowly. Niki tended to revert back to German when he was experiencing strong emotions. You only prayed this was a happy one.

Offering a smile you reply in kind; “ja, mein geliebt. I’m sure.”

Niki breaks out in the widest grin, he pulls you off the couch to stand in between his legs so he can press kisses to your still mostly-flat stomach. “Ein anderes Kind! Oh, Catherine.”

A laugh tumbles from you at his reaction. Carding your fingers between his curls you admit “I was so afraid you wouldn’t be happy.” You can feel the tears of relief pool in your eyes.

“Was?! Why would I be upset? You’re carrying my child, liebe!” he laughs, looking at you like you’d grown a second head. He is beyond himself. Another baby! The thought never even crossed his mind if you would want to have another. You were both in your later thirties and more than content with your 5 year old, so he just assumed it wouldn’t happen.

Sara comes running into the room at the commotion. She latches on to your leg, effectively sandwiching you between herself and Niki. “Mama what’s wrong? Why are you sad?”

“Oh my sweet I’m not sad, I’m very happy.” You brush her curls out from her eyes.

Niki abruptly stands, shifting you to sit on the couch once more before snatching up your daughter in his arms. “Kleine biene, come! Let’s go make your mother dinner, she will need lots of rest and good Austrian food from now on!” he commands playfully. Sara squeals in delight as she’s carried off to the kitchen.

“Oy! Don’t burn down my house!” you yell after them. Biting your lip you add “and maybe bring me a snack!”

German: “This is no joke?” “Yes, my beloved.” "little bee"

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander @ntlmundy @mymagicsuitcase @anteroom-of-death @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @multiversemarielle @trashbin2 @whatawildone @metalbreakfast @laura-naruto-fan1998 @greeneyedblondie44 @godidontevenknowwhat @marchingicenotes7

[immabethehero]

Henrik but he’s Baymax

Hey so! A little while ago on a discord server, I suddenly came up with the idea of Henrik as Baymax, and this story spawned from it. Should I make more content for it, I’ll call it Henrik Healthcare Provider.

CW: Death mention, food mention, self-neglect and slight starvation, coma mention, hospital mention

@leobashi I know you were excited about this!

~~~~~~~~

Chase lies in bed, his arms wrapped around a pillow as he stares blankly at the wall. The curtains are closed, only bits of sunshine peeking through. A plate of cold, untouched food sits on his desk. He can’t remember how long it’s been since he last slept or moved. He sighs and closes his eyes. Maybe this time he won’t get nightmares.

Someone knocks on the door. Chase keeps his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. He hears someone open the door. A waft of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns fills the stuffy room.

“Morning, Chase,” a voice whispers. It’s Marvin bringing him food today. Chase wills him to put the food down and leave.

He hears steps and the plate being set down, but instead of closing the door, he hears footsteps coming toward him, and then a weight beside him on the bed. A hand gently strokes his hair.

“You should come down soon. The others miss seeing you,” Marvin says. “Sleep well, Chase. I hope you feel better soon.” The weight disappears and Chase hears the door close.

Chase groans and sits up, his body aching from lying still for too long. He supposes he should get outside his room soon. It’s what Jack would want him to do.

Chase’s stomach drops and his eyes water as soon as the thought enters his head. He misses Jack so much. His roommate, his rock, his best friend. It has been two weeks since the fire that had rendered Jack unconscious when he ran in to save their robotics professor. The building had exploded in flames, and while Jack was rescued by firefighters and immediately rushed to the hospital, their professor was not so lucky. Jack now resides in the hospital, bandages covering nasty burn wounds, and a breathing tube up his nose. Chase visits whenever he can, saying hello and catching him up on life, before leaving to lie in bed until the next time he could see him.

Chase slowly stands up and stumbles over to his wardrobe. He opens it and begins rummaging through for clean pants to wear. He grabs a pair of navy jeans and slams the drawer on his finger.

“OW!” Chase yelps, yanking his finger out and holding it close. He groans in pain, holding his finger. 

Suddenly, he hears a beeping sound from behind him and the sound of something stirring to life. He turns around and gasps as two ice blue eyes stare back at him.

“Who are you?!” Chase demands, his voice hoarse from disuse.

A figure steps out from the dark shadows of the room, the sunlight peeking out from behind the blinds shining on a human body. 

Chase makes out a man with soft brown hair, a light blue shirt and khakis underneath a white doctor’s coat. The man observes Chase with a friendly expression on his face. A very small pair of glasses sits on his nose. They look more like two connected dots. The man lifts his hand robotically and waves.

“Hello, I am Henrik, your personal healthcare companion,” he says. His voice is soft with a German accent.

“Henrik! I didn’t know you were still active,” Chase says, shocked. He had almost forgotten Jack bringing home his creepy, life-sized robot doctor. Jack had worked for a whole 6 months on the robot, fitting him up with over 1000 healthcare protocols and procedures. At the cry of “ow”, the robot awakens.

“I heard a sound of distress. What seems to be the trouble?” Henrik asks, tilting his head.

“I just pinched my finger, I’ll be alright,” Chase says, shrugging.

Henrik blinks and his glasses project a screen in the air. Ten faces appear, each with a number. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

“Zero? I’m fine, it’s already gone,” Chase says. “You can go back to sleep now.”

Henrik leans over to inspect the wound. “Does it hurt when I touch it?” he asks as he lifts his hand up.

“Please do not touch me,” Chase snaps, stepping back. Henrik ignores him, stepping closer to see his finger. Chase stumbles and falls backwards into the space between the wardrobe and the wall.

Henrik stares down at him, expression still neutral. “You have fallen.”

“You think?” Chase scoffs. He grabs a shelf to pull himself up, only for the shelf to break and trinkets to slide down on him. All the while, Henrik asks,

“On a scale of-”

“OW!”

“On a scale of-”

“AGH!”

“On a scale of-”

“Eugh!”

“On a scale of on-”

A particularly heavy trophy lands on Chase’s tenders. He emits a high pitched cry.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”

“Zero,” Chase squeaks, holding his sore tenders.

Henrik pulls Chase out of the rubble and hugs him tightly. “It is alright to cry. Crying is a natural response to pain.”

Chase pulls himself out of Henrik’s grip. “I’m not crying!”

“I will scan you for injuries,” Henrik says.

“Don’t scan me,” Chase orders.

Henrik blinks. “Scan complete.”

“Unbelievable.”

“You have sustained no injuries, but you lack necessary nutrients in your body. Have you eaten today?”

“Yes,” Chase snaps. Right on cue, his stomach growls. He sighs.

Henrik does not react in the slightest. Marvin or Jameson would have shaken their heads, Jackie and Jack would have immediately run off to grab Chase a snack. Instead, Henrik looks around the room, before taking notice of the food on Chase’s desk. He walks over and bends down.

“Someone has left you some food. You should eat,” Henrik finally says.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have not eaten in a while, you must do so before you faint from hunger and dizziness. I will warm up your food.” Henrik rubs his hands together and hovers them over the food. Chase stares incredulously. He didn’t know Henrik could do that.

“Uh, it’s alright, I’ve already had enough.”

“Your diet and nutrient history says otherwise.”

“Smartass.”

“Your food is warm now. Enjoy your meal.” Henrik stands up and backs up to let Chase sit down and eat. Chase refuses to move.

“You must eat, Chase. It is not healthy to neglect your stomach and diet. You will not feel well and any task you put your mind to will be finished inadequately.”

Chase sighs and sits down, taking the fork and stabbing his omelette with it, then shoving it in his mouth. He glares at Henrik. “Happy?”

“Are you happy?” Henrik shoots back, face neutral as always.

Marvin would have stormed out in frustration by now, Jackie would have left to let him cool down. Jameson would have sat down to read, staying only to make sure Chase finished his meal, a look of annoyance on his face. In the months that Chase has seen the robot awake, Henrik has never shown any emotion. He never told Jack, but it unnerves him to no end.

“No? Yes? I don’t know,” Chase says.

“How does the food taste?” Henrik asks.

“It’s alright,” Chase says, moving on to the bacon. “You want some?”

“I am a robot. I cannot eat,” Henrik reminds him. Henrik smiles for the first time. Chase relaxes a little. Maybe he does have emotions.

“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to offend you,” Chase says.

“I am a robot. I cannot be offended,” Henrik says.

Chase can’t help but laugh. It startles him a little. He hasn’t laughed in a while. Henrik tilts his head in confusion. His expression only makes Chase laugh more.

The door suddenly swings open and Jackie, Marvin and Jameson all run in.

“We heard a bang, are you alright?” Jameson signs, worried. Chase nods, still laughing.

“Oh, you’re smiling again, Chase. I haven’t seen you smile in such a long time,” Marvin remarks.

Jackie observes Henrik, who gives him a quick look and says, “I sense your temperature is higher than normal. Are you feeling well?”

“Absolutely…” Jackie responds, only half-paying attention. “Chase, who is this?”

“Henrik, Jack’s robot that he’s been working on. He’s a robotic nurse.”

“I am equipped with over 1000 healthcare procedures and protocols. Jack made me in the hopes of helping people access quicker healthcare,” Henrik explains.

“He looks amazing!” Jameson exclaims. “It’s amazing what mankind can do with technology!”

Henrik watches as Jameson lifts his arm up to examine him. “Your neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are happy.”

“I am!” Jameson says. “Wait, how does he know sign language?”

“Jack programmed me to understand up to 100 languages, including BSL, your current language,” Henrik says.

“Amazing! Imagine how many people Henrik can help!” Jameson cries in delight, clapping his hands.

“How did he get in your room? I thought he was back at the workshop,” Marvin says.

“Jack brought him home because they needed space,” Chase says. “Our own garage was filled with my own project, so I let him take my room for the meantime.”

“Where is Jack?” Henrik suddenly asks. “He is usually with me when I am awake.”

The atmosphere in the room immediately sullens. Chase sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

“He’s... in the hospital,” he says.

“Is he alright? When will he return?” Henrik asks.

“When he wakes up. He’s in a coma.”

“Oh.” Henrik’s face remains neutral. Chase scowls at the robot’s lack of emotion.

“Yeah.”

“I am sorry to hear that. But with patience and enough healing, I am sure he will awaken,” Henrik says.

“That’s what the doctors keep telling us,” Marvin says, hugging himself.

Henrik walks over to the computer and puts his hand on it. His glasses project a screen and images fly by.

“What are you doing?” Jackie asks.

“I am downloading information on comas and its effects on both patients and family members of patients,” Henrik says. “Information dictates that visiting the patient regularly can help improve the probability of the patient waking up.”

“I know that,” Chase says. “I’ve been doing that all week.”

“Physical and verbal reassurance can help loved ones cope with the current state of the patient,” Henrik continues. He crosses over to Chase and hugs him, the movement stiff but welcoming. Chase awkwardly leans into the hug.

“Everything will be alright. There, there,” Henrik soothes, patting his head. Chase chuckles.

“Thanks, Henrik. It’s appreciated.”

Henrik nods and pulls away. “If there is anything else you need, I will be nearby. But for now, I cannot deactivate until you say you are satisfied with your care.”

“Already? You just woke up,” Jackie protests.

“I do not see a reason for me to be here at the very moment. I am simply taking up space.”

Jackie’s heart sinks a little for the robot. Even though Henrik meant it in very different circumstances, Jackie can’t help being reminded of the thousand times his human friends have said that. He gently grabs the robot’s arm.

“Why don’t you stay out a little longer? We’d love to give you a tour of the house,” he suggests.

Chase raises an eyebrow. “We?”

“Will that help improve your mental state?” Henrik asks.

“Maybe?” Jackie says. The other shrug.

Henrik blinks. “Alright then. Lead the way.”

Jackie walks out, Marvin and Jameson following behind him. Henrik begins to exit, but hesitates when he sees Chase remain where he is.

“Are you not coming?” Henrik asks.

“I think I’ll pass. I’ve seen the house before.”

“Some exercise and fresh air will improve your health, both physically and mentally.”

“You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“Come outside, Chase. Today’s weather is a high of 20 degrees with sunshine. You might enjoy it.”

Chase sighs and stands up, taking the plate with him. “Coming.”

Henrik smiles once more. “Good.”

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing​, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada,@meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans​​,  @the-pastel-kitsune​, @bupine,  @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix​, @milo-kno​​, @pixelpixie-pix​​, @why-killed-markiplier​

[shesawriter39049]

|PRIVATE SHOW|M|

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

SMUT/LIGHT ANGST

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

WC:5k

WARNINGS: Public sex -ish( A foot-job under the table) dirty talk, teasing, light edging, frontage (kinda), overstimulation, Tae comes in his YSL leather pants, mentions of Oral (Male receiving), Tae is somewhat submissive, whilst also being a little shit. “Baby boy/Good boy” Kink

DNA Era Tae meets 2020 Tae

Tae is her baby and also her Executive Assistant

He just wants to hold her hand tbh

NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

_________________________________________________________

“So” Musing over your cocktail glass “Thoughts on the last place?”

Eyeing the man sitting across from you intently who’s clearly in the holiday spirit. Dressed in a deep red silk button-down, apparently, he’s taken a page out of Jimin’s book considering it’s barely buttoned, to begin with! Honestly, he’d be better off not even wearing one at all at this rate.

Smoky silver locks messily styled out of his face showcasing those bushy yet sculpted brows of his. One of your favorite past times has become watching Tae become more confident as he grows into himself. No longer finding the need to hide behind his long shaggy bangs, though you can’t; lie, you do kinda miss him looking like the puppy he truly is deep down. However this, version of Tae just hits different, your baby boy looks like a whole ass man and you’ll never get over it!

God the things you endlessly wanna do to him…..even after all these years....

You watch Tae sigh almost miserably over a mouthful of lobster mac which seems completely out of place considering the way the dish in question smells…“Honestly?”

Offering a curt nod, encouraging him to continue as you welcome yourself to his plate! The amount of cheese that’s trickling from your fork is actually disrespectful!

“It was cute, I liked how big the lot is, and more importantly how spaced out the spots are! You know how rich people get about people being too close to the damn cars!” Rolling his eyes as if he in he’s excluded from that category and you can’t help but scoff.

“Tae you technically are one of those people at this point. Just like...yesterday actually, you almost ripped Jackson’s balls off for bumping into your rearview mirror but carry on.” Flicking your fork in his direction, ignoring the sharp glare he sent your way in the process.

This time around I think both of his eyes managed to roll in different directions, again, Jimin’s wearing off on him! “Anyway, yeah, I don’t know, I liked the space, the exposed brick beams in the ceiling was cool. Kinda gave it a homey vibe which is fitting….”

You could hear it hanging off his tongue, he sounds very, “meh” about it, so you opt fil in the blank. “Butttt??”

“Butttt, I -It felt like...like I was forcing myself to like it…” Slouching down into his seat, features a little uneasy, as if him not liking the venue was a direct insult to the owner personally! You on the other hand you let out a bated breath that you weren’t even aware was being held, eyes wide shining with relief.

“Oh thank fuck” Hand slamming down absently along the table, “I thought it was just me, and I felt like such an ass too because-”

“They were so sweet” Came in unison, both of you almost cooing as you said it! Hands placed dramatically over your heart as you reclined against your chair.

“So sweet,” Tae parroted in a light pout,”I mean they were literally wearing matching loafers Y/n. Matching” Idly jading a fork into his side salad in a way that’s borderline concerning actually, a tad bit aggressive over there!

” But it just-I don’t know, I guess will always think like those broke college kids at heart” Flashing you a brief glowing smile that you can’t help but return, humming in agreeance.

“Which isn’t a bad thing, per say, the mentality definitely keeps us humbled! But there’s time and place for that attitude and honestly I just wasn’t feelin it! At least not in comparison to the others we’ve seen, it wasn’t fighting the vibe were going for. Regardless of how good the offer is” Shrugging over another mouth full of food and you there’s not much else for you to say because that was your consensus exactly.

Basically, once the two of you showed up, the cute little husband and wife duo offered you a deal which would essentially consist of them renting you the space for next to nothing. In exchange, they’d want you to post a couple of ads via your company and personal social media accounts as promo. Your initial thought outside of just thinking they were utterly adorable was how much money you’d save...but as Tae said, thankfully that’s not really a concern anymore, if you wanted you can get it!

Easily…discounts and barters aside, just a flick of the wrist and it’s yours!

“True, also can we just take a moment to talk about how aesthetically pleasing the Valentine was though?” Tossing your head back with a dramatic groan “I mean fuck you already know the way I feel about industrial spaces, the high, glass ceiling, all the greenery..” Eyes rolling to the back of your head with a slight moan…as you envision the space. Especially how moody and sexy the overall venue would look with thousands of lights cascading from the glass ceilings.

Clearly the venue was doing ....a lot for you right now!

Brow cocked at the blatant...enthusiasm surrounding the location in question “Mmm, well that’s something...interesting to add to the kink list, just when I thought I’d explored every avenue, but apparently not.” Voice low, teasing, head cocked to the side, a shit eating grin plastered along his lips, as he swirls his tongue along the tip of his straw in a way that’s……

“ I guess we’re adding “industrial spaces” to the list. Noted.” Smirking around his drink like the little shit he is!

Right, you may or may not have crossed your legs at the sudden drawl laced within his delivery but not before, kicking his shin with the tip of your heel, “You little shit” Rolling your eyes at the way he dramatically rubs the side of his leg, hitting you with straight puppy dog eyes as he pouts over at you as if you actually caused serious damage!.

Leaning forward a little so you don't have to try as hard to whisper, the notion has your breast essentially sitting on top of the table. Not that they weren’t already on full display in your dress or anything. Hand slipping beneath the table, landing on his kneecap. “What? Suddenly you don’t like a little pain?” Tone blatantly teasing whilst ghosting your nails agonizingly slow up his inner thigh, and his entire body goes rigid at the sensation. Tae’s always been extremely...

“God, your still so sensetive....” You weren’t intending for that to come out in the form of a moan but considering the one that fell from his lips in return...you ain’t mad about it! 100% dialed in to the way his eyes are fluttering, jaw tight, trying his damndest to play it cool, especially once the waitress makes eye contact silently asking if the two of you need anything. “Takes so little Hmm?”’

Flashing him a quick smile, waving her off for the time being, far too focused on another task to entertain anyone else right now!  Only stopping your ministrations once your fingers land right beneath his balls.

“This place is very well lit, I like the hue, it’s casting a good soft-light, especially the way it’s bouncing off your complexion...” Eyes cascading against the ceiling, tone casual, until your eyes drop....

“You’d look so fuckin good, coming for me right now...” The words purr off your tongue, flashing him a cheeky little wink, and poor Taehyung chokes on his martini!

“You know how much you love being watched...I could have you making a mess all over yourself and no one would even know. ” Not even trying to hide the smirk playing on your lips when you can already feel the tension in the room rise. “My own little private show...” Eyes wicked as your fingers wander a little higher, gently pressing your palm down around his dick. Rubbing tauntingly, the touch isn't enough through the thick leather, however it does instantly make his length swell in the confines of his pants! We all know this….underwear is nonexistent in Tae’s world! “Kinda brings me back to our college days...” Teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the mere memory...you getting Tae off whilst in the lecture hall full of 300 plus students. 

Regardless of the deer in headlights look flashing across his face his legs still spread apart, hips bucking forward because well as we just said...baby boy loves being watched. This however, prompts you to once again change positions, now digging your nails into the back of his thighs before letting the tips of your fingers tickle free. Coly bringing them back above surface to take another languid  sip of your drink, tossing a strand of hair over your shoulder.

Ya know, I can’t say you’re surprised by his reaction, baby boy can dish it but sure can’t take it, neck and chest flushing to rival his shirt! Banging on his sternum in an attempt to reroute the liquor burning his lungs.

“Jesus-fuc-Y/n!” You have the nerve to hum inquisitively, only this time for his sanity he humors you! “Can you like not go from asulting me to-” Looking over his shoulder before dropping his voice down to a whisper “Stroking my dick, and offering to get me off under the table, all in the span of a nanosecond!?” The plea hissed through clenched teeth but the complaint was half hearted at most! Well aware his dicks already throbbing in his pants at the thought alone! “Fuck me” Sucking in a harsh breath, as he raked his fingers through his scalp.

“Well…” Tonguing at your inner cheek, eyes fluttering away as if you were in deep thought… “In my defense you kinda started it, bringing up my kink list like I don’t own a whole ass porn company!” Propping your chin on your palm, gaze locked and loaded “Like I wasn’t thinking about tainting that sweet innocent couple by letting them watch as I dropped to my knees, letting you fuc-”

“Y/n!” He actually attempts to sound almost applauded, like he doesn’t love how absolutely filthy your mouth is. However there’s a silent little “please” playing on his tongue, no matter how threatening he tried to sound.

You giggled, straight up giggled, reclining in your seat, amused, and somewhat satisfied so you let him be, for the time being anyway. Though you may have eaten your angel hair pasta in a very obscene manner, every now and then you’d sinfully suck the noodles through your overly glossed lips! However, if he dared to clock you on it you’d just simply note that it was your way of not messing up your makeup….

The two of you finish your lunch in comfortable silence, making small talk here and there, a mixture of work and bullshit until Tae’s phone goes off with a couple text notifications.

A low hum rattling in the back of his throat as he eyes the message from Hoseok. Subconsciously Tae reaches across the table, intertwining your fingers before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. Grazing them with his lips casually as he scrolls through his phone.

“Alright  baby, so, I have a list ready, we have a couple brands that wanna work with us for the party. Seoks already narrowed it down to the ones that are actually worth discussing however-“

Honestly, it took both of you a minute to even realize what was going on, the skinship was second nature at this point. It wasn’t until his thumb grazed over your wedding band that the notion even resonated! Tae and yourself were a good two drinks in, feelin all warm and fuzzy and got caught up in the moment! Temporarily forgetting that you were in the middle of a restaurant in Downtown LA! Forgetting that the Kim currently caressing your knuckles and calling you baby is not the one you're technically married to! It may seem minor in retrospect, but you’ve always tried to stop yourselves from getting comfortable, with being comfortable in certain locations if that makes sense! You slip up one to many times and the next thing you know it happening in the office or on the red carpet!

Taehyung’s eyes grow almost comically wide, straight panic flashes over those big brown orbs of his and your heart sinks as you watch his head whip around, checking to make sure no one caught the interaction. It was almost painful how quickly he disconnected from you as his entire face dropped and no, just no!

“Hey...hey no it’s fine, it’s like 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday! Not to mention we’re tucked in a booth in the corner ,we’re good, nobody heard or saw you…” Voice calm and quiet, trying to come off comforting, flashing him a weary smile. Reaching across the table to thumb at his palm, and it would be a lie to say you didn't also check over your shoulder before hand as well’

A dry almost bitter chuckle leaves his throat as he flinches away, tossing the fork down on his plate sliding it halfway across the table indicating he is more than done eating. Flicking the bridge of his nose with his index finger, jaw twitching, “Yeah, lucky me huh? I actually got to hold your hand for all of two seconds before we realized I’m techionally not allowed to do that unless were in fuckin I don’t know Alaska!” 

He’s agitated, and with every right to be, even if he is being a little dramatic. Thankfully he’s keeping his voice low, but you can feel how tight his throat is, the amount of grit laced within his tenor has your eyes bugging out of there socket.

“Bab- “ It was a reflex, whenever he’s upset it’s just what falls from your lips, and he gives you a look, almost as if to say “How fucking dare you” ! The level of hurt the pet name just rendered within his eyes is- 

Eyes sharp, brows furrowed “Noo, nooo, we literally just went through this. That’s not the way it works for us in this kinda setting” Flailing his arms around to reference the restaurant. “Wrong Kim” Well damn. “So it's Tae in public remember!?” Brow quirked accusingly, he’s abating this entire situation, almost like he wants you to snap, a second away from whisper yelling! “ Or maybe I should say Taehyung, hell  just use my full government while your at it. Let’s make it real impersonal, Mr. Kim maybe?” Head cocked to the side as if he’s being genuine and not a total smartass right now. 

You-he’s ...hurt, and you get that, hell you respect that, but Lunch at 71 Above is not the time or place for this conversation. You’re trying to approach this on a more rational level, however the condescending delivery is making it hard, and your only human. Eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even catch yourself and that little gesture seems to be what officially set him off!

You can physically see the tension within his face... “I’m gonna go get some air, I might actually call a Uber or somethin,.” The words trailed off his lips low in mumbled but clear enough to be heard because that’s ultimately what he wanted to begin with. 

There was something in his eyes you couldn’t read, a combination of anger/hurt mixed another emotion you can’t quite pinpoint! But whatever it is, you fuckin hated it! Throat running painfully dry as watch him slide his chair out and even though realistically you know at max he’s headed home...Still the gesture alone is gut wrenching because you know this runs deeper than just this situation!

“Tae” His name leaves your throat as more of a warning, reaching up to take an almost possessive grip on his wrist. Fingertips landing on the edge of his Cartier bracelet, the one you're both wearing actually, same arm and all!

A deep labored breath shutters from his chest at the contact, thighs feelin like a newborn fawn, gaze hesitantly meeting yours. “Tae, baby” Daring to use the endearment again regardless of your current surroundings “Sit back down so I can order us dessert and we can discuss whatever you want...just-please” The ending whisked off your tongue so faint your almost wondering if he even heard you!

Taehyung narrows his eyes, teeth clenched, tongue nudging his inner cheek! “I’m not really in the mood for cake right now Y/n. To be honest I just wanna leave” You know he’s aiming for dry but instead he lands somewhere around defeated , which makes it even worse. You’re both well aware this is not truly about cake, it’s about his constant need to run away from shit!

Sliding your fingers down his wrist, interlocking your fingers, giving them a firm squeeze. Eyes locked with his “Then you can get whatever you want, but I need you to just be here right now, I really, really need you to sit here, and just breathe through this with me.”

He’s know what your really asking is for him not to run away for once!

A faint little “Whatever” Leaves his lips and then he’s dead silent, silent as he slides his chair out, remaining as such for what feels like hours, and it has your heart beating painfully hard against your ribcage. It’s almost like he’s not even here, eyes fixated on some random painting on the opposite side of the restaurant, chewing at his inner cheek until....

“I’m sorry…” He admits after a baited breath, stroking your palm with his thumb gently, you can see him working over his thought’s in his head before speaking. ”I can’t - fuck I never know when I’m going to get all in my feels with shit like this, sometimes it just sucks harder than others I guess” The curt little shrug that leaves his shoulders let’s you know how uncomfortable he is, Tae’s overall persona suddenly seems mounds smaller in this moment. Anxiously stroking the back of his own neck “But....I shouldn't have come at you like that! That was fucked on my behalf and for that I’m truly am sorry ! This isn't all on you, or Joon we all-”Gazing over his shoulder before continuing “There’s just- there’s a lot, we have families and it’s just, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, ...”

Dropping his voice a little lower “I just fuckin love you” There’s a timid smile playing on his lips “and if the offer still stands I would really fuckin like chocolate cake…”

You actually snort, that’s your first instinct because only Tae, but the plus is it lightens the mood  immensely! The sudden outburst triggers that full boxy grin to come into play and god your so damn  enamored by this man it’s actually sad. Bringing his knuckles up to your mouth, grazing them past your lips like he did yours moments prior. “I love you too, and chocolate cake sounds fuckin amazing, and liquor, we need new drinks, actually we need an entire bottle! ” You laugh and then so does Tae, suddenly your holding hands and laughing together and everything else just seems so miniscule in the moment.

~~~~~

So, here’s the thing...being a CEO of one of the top Adult film entertainment companies is not on the same level as like..I don’t know….

Owning a high-end clothing company, or being a reality star or something. Your field is praised just as highly as it is tabooed, so with that being said, it’s not like your the top topic on E-news, or on Business Digest. You still have a strong sense of normality, point blank you’re not that important. It’s not as common for outsiders to know the high rollers within the porn industry the way it is in other fields!

However there's another avenue to factor in where the 7 of you are concerned, and that’s the world of social media, and that’s a completely different world entirely! One that’s heavily intertwined in your state in particular, living playing, and working in LA….I mean let’s get real, shit not normal here, by any means!

You’re a 26-year-old wealthy CEO, that goes to work in a Ferrari, cute little bodycons, Louboutin's, and Chanel bags! Your executive assistant is Tae for fucks sake, he looks like a model his damn self , on the surface your life is an aesthetically pleasing wet dream. An influencer without even trying for the title, if your 2.7 million followers are at all telling! So in the public eye, especially when out in Downtown LA..you try to be discreet.

Just last week Jimin was hanging all over you while walking through Saks and one of your mutual followers stopped to ask for a picture. Again this isn’t a daily occurrence, you’re not comparing yourself to Rhianna, but it’s why you do move with a slight air of caution when in your city! You literally live in a place where people become famous for running into walls, nevertheless owning their own business!

The world knows you’re married to Namjoon, and to be honest there’s numerous reasons the other aspect of your dynamic stays hidden! More than just the obvious….

However there’s been rumors circulating over the years, or at least now that Hollywood’s decided you hold some relevance! Ones pertaining your your sexuality, typically the tabloids assuming it, insulating your swingers, or that Namjoon’s bi.  A Lot of these narratives circle back from your college days though, old classmates trying to slip tea to the media. Stories of when you could go to a party and it didn’t matter if you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Yoongi at the same damn time! Not to mention the dark side of social media where nothing ever truly dies, so yeah there are some questionable photos floating around. Luckily nothing recent enough to truly add fuel to the fire but you know deep down it’s only a matter of time!

One could argue it adds allure to the overall dynamic, especially considering your line of work, and maybe it wouldn’t matter if the boys were just casual thirds...but they’re not! They’re so much more than that and that’s what makes this hard, because well in laymen’s terms...people just fucking suck! So as heartbreaking as it is, where your other boys are concerned, in the public eye at least your “relationship” holds a strong air of mystery!

It’s the little things ya know? Like now for example, the fact that he could've easily gotten a foot job under the table but has to walk on eggshells about holding your hand at times! Shit just sucks sometimes, there’s no other way around it!

~~~~~~~

The two of you don’t really talk much until the dessert comes, more drinks and a bottle is in fact ordered as well! The silence felt a little more bearable this time around, busying yourselves on your phones. A very minor but significant change, is the fact that you still haven’t let go of his hand, even once the waitress returns. The simple notion has his entire dementor shifting! Fingers still tightly bound together and your chest flutters seeing the way he flushes almost bashfully at such minor PDA! Like the two of you didn’t hook up in the back of a club in London two months ago! Like you literally weren’t palming him under the table! Yet here he is blushing at openly holding your hand!

So fuckin cute!

Eventually two pieces of molten chocolate crepe cake gets brought over and holy fuck! Both moaning in unison as the pastry hits the table...

“Oh my goddd, we have to take a piece home for Jin, the like...convince him to learn how to make it!” You watch Tae’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he laces his lips around the fork! Groaning out in agreeance once the mixtures of pure sin hit his tongue.

“K...now back to , these sponsors...” Prompting over a mouth full of cake, not that you wouldn’t love to sit here and chill all day but you do have a 4pm conference call!

You watch as Tae glances down at your intertwined fingers, and his fork....realizing ones gotta go so he can pick up his phone and you physically coo back at him, melting into your set once he opts to drop the fork instead of your hand. Purposely avoiding your glance once he noticed the look on your face, nose scrunched and all!

“Right, so Uber reached out, more specifically Uber Luxxe, looking to send us 4 cars of our choice in exchange for a couple post. Spread out between IG, Twitter and Snap, I’m personally all for this one. The contract doesn’t seem excessive and I like that the post won’t feel forced! I mean realistically we were going to hire a driving service regardless! However something to also consider is our lack of filter when drinking! I mean...”Flailing his phone between the two of you as if to give an example, obviously referencing the little slip up moments prior. At least he can joke about it a little “So realistically, would we feel more comfortable with a private car service where there’s a contract involved as opposed to just some random?”

Tae just went full EA, out of nowhere and honestly ...

You blinked at him, almost dazed, fork halfway to his mouth because, what?! . “You sound so professional right now, it’s so fuckin hot.”

Tae choked on nothing but straight air before blushing profusely. “Baby-I mean-Y-“

You didn’t even flinch, continuing, unperturbed. “Nah, actually I think I’m in the mood to be baby right now!” Eying him wickedly “Your jaw just gets really tight, and your voice gets all low and raspy! It happens during meetings too, it’s really fuckin sexy! Reminds me of the way you sound when your lips are pressed into the side of my neck when we fuck.” It's just the casualness of it all, you sound like your ordering another appetizer and Tae’s about to choke on his dessert. 

The grip he has on your hand is almost painful right now, “But don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here writing out my next script in my head, carry on. What rental service did you have in mind? Or did someone already reach out as well?”

It’s the way you just went from talking about Tae, being balls deep to sponsorships all in the span of a comma! In the words of your best friend you are pure chaos.....

Tae groans  head hanging in defeat and your lips curl into a smirk, brow quirked in his direction.

“It’s the way I hate it here sometimes...” Snatching his hand away to jab his fork into the neglected pastry.

“Ah huh” You roll your eyes crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back. “Right, again let’s not act like you didin’t start this, both here and at the venue.” Leaning over the table again licking your lips “Don’t act like you weren’t eye fucking me the entire time, or the way you’d accidentally brush against me as we walked through the building. You’ve been practically begging for it all day.”

Tae just stares back at you, mind momentarily blank, stomach shifting into knots, letting the fork drop from those delicate fingers of his! Mouth opening and closing like a fish straight outta water...

“Did you think about it too? The acoustics in that place were fuckin insane, the way it would just echo through as you made me cum would just- fuck”  You continued adding that lethal little purr back into your voice! “Or even better the way you’d sound, you don’t even know how bad I wanted to drop-“

“Y/n”

“Baby.” Phrasing the word borderline as a threat “Would you have liked that baby boy?” Cocking your head to the side, tongue teasing your bottom lip “Me on my knees for you looking up at you all pretty, letting you hold my hair and fuck my throat until you came straight into my mouth?”

Speaking of mouths' your just straight fuckin-mayhem ...and it’s making Taehyung’s brain feel like it’s melting through his ears! But god should we be surprised though?

It’s never taken much with you....

You’ve always been just what he needs and a little bit more than he can take all in one! You haven’t even touched him yet and he feels a moan creeping up his throat! Especially as he watches you swirl the tip of your tongue over the whipped cream on the edge of your fork, sucking it between your overly glossed lips in the most obscene manner.

Eyes locked and loaded, a second away from drooling, “Fuck, yeah,” He stutters breath hitching on his lungs, heat coursing through his skin. Tae’s veins literally feel like they’re on fire, subtly trying to shift in his seat to readjust himself! Glancing subconsciously out of his peripheral, the restaurant still chill and half empty. The waitress on the opposite end of the room attending to another couple!

“You always look so damn good with my cock down your throat, and my cum on your tounge. God, especially when I wrap my hand around your throat and I can feel you swallowing down around my-” Your tongue’s swirling all over this damn fork, and he can feel every flick your tongue against his dick, and it’s just...fuck!  Not to mention once you accidently spilled some whipped cream on your lips, which you took your time licking off as well.  “Jesus-Fuck, Y/n!!” Taehyung’s voice is dripping with arousal, and you already know he’s leaking all over the place.

“Yeah?” Humming around the form before setting it to the side “ You like the way I look when I’m chocking on your cock?” These questions are all rhetorical, your an ass “Or how about when I get a little messy because I can’t fit it all in my mouth?” Your eyes darken, words coming out over low gasps of air, almost as if your just as aroused as he is and that’s because you are!

“Your always such a good boy for me, so helpful too holding my hair back, guiding my mouth until you hit the back of my throat...holding me in place until I gag. You know how much I love when you get rough with me ..” Tae feels the sole of your red buttons tease up his thigh, shifting between his legs. The transition was so damn smooth it catches him off guard, instinctively wanting to push away but instead...

“You’d be loud for me too wouldn’t you? Show them how good you look falling apart for me, how good you look when you come down my throat....The way your eyes roll-”

“Holy-fuck Baby” Aggressively running his palms over his face until it’s matching his shirt “Please don’t do this to me right, now, if your gonna give it to me then fuckin let me have it but I cant-.”

You can’t help but smile back at him, so fond it almost seems out of place in the moment. “I’ll give you whatever you want Tae...you know this. You just gotta promise you’ll be good for me, we can’t draw-”

“I’m always good” He damn near growled at you, eyes daring you to say otherwise and well, who were you to deny Tae of what he wants!?Gently pressing your foot at the base of his cock, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips upon feeling that your boys already fully hard.

It’s the way the two of you are just casually in one of LA’s boujeiest restaurants and your deadass about to give him a foot job in Louboutin’s! Yup, your life had turned into a porno,  you’ve officially made it!

“Kay, so back to that list of sponsors, first off I completely agree, as much as I love our contact at Uber I’d prefer an actual car service for something like that.” Here you go again the queen of the switch up, you’re back to discussing work yet there’s still a slight moan in your tenor. Breathy and light and Tae feels like all the airs being sucked from his lungs.

Tae shifts, spreading his thighs even further, shuddering out a bated breath as you point your toe, dragging it up and down! It’s a peep-toe so that alone allows you a little more flexibility! Pressure intentionally light so it’s just enough to have him on the brink of begging! But instead of doing so, he picks up his phone, hands shaky and all and continue doing his job as requested!

“Right..” Clearing his throat not sure why he currently sounds like he’s going through puberty again but K...  “I’ll let Hobi know, maybe we can do something we’re we use them while planning this party or something! Since you vetoed a party planner will have a lot more running around to do! Realistically outside of Joon and Jin we all have coupes anyway...so it’s not like we can carry much!”

Mmm, always the innovator, even when all the blood and airs being rushed to his dick! You feel him try and slide forward, chasing after the stimulation.

“Ohhh, I really like that, and like you said it still feels somewhat organic because realistically our cars aren’t efficient for something like that”  You press down harder against his cock almost as a reward “Good boy, what’s next?” Nodding towards his phone and it takes every ounce of self control he had to swallow down the moan laying on his tongue.

Eyes struggling to stay ajar as you continuously rub your foot up and down his length. Now applying more prominent pressure with the ball of your feet! Movement stealth from the waist up so you don’t draw attraction to yourself.

“Tae Tae” The nickname falls from your lips singsong like, and far too innocent for the demon seed you are. “Next?”

He doesn't even know what to really do except follow instructions, so he just nods, scrolling through his phone. “There was also a couple brands wanted to oh fuck-“ Gasping as you pick up your pace, damn near dropping his phone into the plate beneath him.

Face splitting into an amused grin, a hint of something wicked playing on your lips. Eyes gleaming with mischief, you watch those long, delicate fingers flex, clearly struggling this time around to bite back the moan like he needs to! Hands shaking as your continue working him at a merciless pace. Rubbing faster, harder, utilizing the rounded point on the head of your heel to press right against what your assuming is Tae’s tip by the way he shudders. Thighs shaking as he grips the edge of the table for dear life!

“Oh my godddd” Tae manages to just mouth the words as opposed to screaming them the way he desperately wants too. Tugging on his own scalp, trying to just do something to get himself busy!

“You fuckin love this....” It’s not even a question, more of a consensus!

Your eyes haven’t left his once, watching intently as you swirl your tongue around the straw before taking a sip. Moaning around it because well ya know, the drinks just that damn good apparently.

God his skin feels like it’s on fire, every stroke of your foot has him feeling like he’s coming undone!

He’s trying to focus, on his surroundings, this damn list everything but he can’t he just fucking can’t! Thankfully it’s you, and he trust you with everything he has, so his subconscious is somewhat at ease with all of this because he knows you got him!

“Yeah,fuck yeah you already know you can do anything to me” He states plainly, the most stable his voice has sounded in god knows when “Whatever you want” Gaze heavy through hooded lashes, looking straight at you with steady sinful eyes.

“Mmm, and always want it don’t you baby? Always...:”

He bites back a moan nodding, and then his phone rings, of course his phone fucking rings and it’s coming from the office because why the fuck not?!

“Answer” The command was simple, clearly no room for debate and hs eyes go wide,

“Baby” Complaining with a hint of a whine in his voice and when you don’t seem to give a damn....

“Yeah?”Jaw tight, nostrils flared as he picks up the phone. Adrenaline flies through his veins, pressure building in his gut as you relentlessly keep your pace intact! Pressing harder and deeper into all the right places until he’s coughing around Moans to try and cover it up!

Dropping his head slightly, propping it on his elbow as he squeezes the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “ Welp, That's where it would be so if you don’t see any were out, email me a list and I’ll make a Amazon-“

Taehyung’s chest heaves painfully tight, breathing becoming more erratic with every stroke and yes clearly there’s a strong voyeurism kink within this man! So as crazy as it may sound , the combination of the restaurant, and this phone call ?!

Yeah, he’s not gonna last!

Slouching down completely against the back of the booth, thighs spreading to full capacity. Fingers tangled in his Smokey locks holding his bangs out of his face. Eyes shut , jaw tight, neck slightly reclined, though to the naked eye he’d just appear to be on a very unpleasant phone call! When in all actually he’s finally just letting himself fall apart beneath your touch!

Eyes fluttering open just enough to glance down at you in a way that had you feeling like you could come right with him. Your gaze is Just as heavy as his, lips darting out to wet your lips though your throats suddenly what’s running dry!

Tae’s lips part slightly, though he’s falling apart he’s giving it right back to you. Hitting you with those sinfully needy fuck me eyes! The same ones you see when your riding and edging him until he’s coming tenfold! His breathing comes stagnate every time your foot moves and Tae finds himself gnawing down on his bottom lip to stifle the moans sliding up his chest! You can tell who's on the other end now, it’s the new secretary Alanna, and she legitimately is still getting her footing! Which is the only reason Tae is even entertaining the call, well one of the reasons!

You notice Tae’s breathing is starting to even out a little almost as if he’s gained some of his self control back and we don’t support that in this household.  So you proceed to dig your foot right into the head of his cock and he straight wheezes! Body jerking off the wall and all ...

“No, I’m, fuck-“ There’s a moan that finally falls freely off his tongue that only barley seems acceptable because he in fact just choked! Voice coming out what feels like a octave lower and huskier , poor Alanna! “Yeah i'm good sorry , food just went down the wrong pipe.” He can barely think straight but he knows he needs to close this up “Hey look will be back within the hour and will sort it out then alright?”

I don’t even think he even waited for her to respond before hanging up and literally throwing his phone across the table! Gucci case and all.

“Everything okay? ?” Voice low and teasing, he knows you're technically asking about the office but your timing sucks ass!

“Fuck you” Falls off his lips in a barley audible moan, so consumed as his orgasm builds in the pit of his stomach! Eyes still struggling to stay open mouth, mouth falling slack, if your were in your right mind you’d tell him to pull it together alittle! Now that he’s off the phone, he either looks like he’s getting a foot job, or like he’s high on meth! Neither are appealing to the GP! God, he must look utterly ridiculous right now, thankfully he’s shifted against the booth so he’s facing a wall as opposed to other guest!

“Mm, my pretty baby’s close yeah?” Watching how heavily his throat bobs as he swallows, Tae’s leaking precum all over the damn place, so, close hips gently rocking into your foot as discreetly as possible, growing more desperate by the second. Fuck he needs to come, he needs to!

“Yeah baby please don’t- fuck” God he sounds so good, so needy and pliant and fuck!  

“I got you...” At that you actually kick your shoe off, moving back to press down even harder, rubbing and rubbing forcing Tae to attempt to grab his drink in attempts to muzzle himself. However his hands are shaking too hard and  he almost knocks it over!

“God baby I’m-“

“Be a good boy for me”

And he is, coming with a shuddering breath, under the steady pressure of your foot as his release tears through his veins. Dropping his to the table as subtly as possible(Hell maybe people will think he’s tipsy or not feeling well), thighs shaking, chest heaving painfully hard. He’s not completely silently but he does a lot better than expected, a low groan manages to slip past his lips.

“Good boy” The praise rolls off your tongue and goes straight to his dick, as if he needed anymore stimulation there. Another faint whimper falls off his lips until he’s drooling all over the table. Not even realizing initially, that his hips were still grinding into you until he’s hissing from oversensitivity! The force of his orgasm has Taehyung drawing straight blanks, hearing nothing but white nose rustling in the background!

Also, I don’t know what that says about Tae as a person but he’s not even remotely humiliated! The only thing that he’s about to regret once his mind's less foggy is how absolutely drenched his YSL leather pants are!

So busy trying to get his breathing back in check as he comes down from his high, he completely missed the way you’d signaled to the server. Calmly asking for her  to add 8 more slices of cake to go, and bring the bill over!

His face is flushed, his pants feel gross as hell but above everything else he feels so damn good! Reaching down to still your foot, gently massaging the top as his eyes finally flutter open! Vision still a little hazy as he looks back at you with a dazed smile, and your gazing back at him with so much fondness that the first thing that slurs off his lips in a whisper is....

“I fuckin love you!”

Flashing him a wink in return as you make eye contact with your servers whose letting you know she’ll be over in a moment. Keeping your foot stationary for a moment, enjoying the well deserved foot massage. Occasionally flexing your toes to “accidentally brush against his dick. Giggling around your drink every time he'd hiss and jerk away!

This entire lunch situation was a damn mess, and high key reckless but, the blissed out smile written all over his face is more than worth it. Where just ugh...not gonna tell the boys about this!

“Love you too Tae”

~~~~~~~~~

Everything from that moment on kind of feels like a blur honestly, up until the two of you sliding into your car and before you can even get yourself settled he’s on you! Yanking you out of your seat and into his lap before you can even put your seatbelt on which obviously is not ideal this is a sports car after all but you don’t dare complain! Taehyung’s far from shy with his wants, griping the back of your neck, sliding his fingers through your hair as he presses your lips together! He doesn’t try to ease you into it either It’s hard, hungry, desperate and overtly needy! Forcing both of you to huff out a staggered breath through your nose to even keep up! You breathe him in, and he breathes you out, it’s all open mouthed, and heady, an obscene amount of moans rolling off your tongues. Reclining your jaw, giving him free reign to explore your mouth. Tongue rolling against your slick and languid with years of finesse between the two of you. No matter how hard he’s kissing you it still doesn’t feel rushed, its deep, borderline sensual actually!

Tae pulls back just enough to nip at your bottom lip, dragging his across your jaw and down the side of your neck! Licking sucking and biting, along your skin, moaning at the way you arch and grind your hips into every touch! The two of you carry on like that until there’s suddenly something thumbing in the back of your throat!

“Hey..” There's a slight sternness within your voice that has him instantly trying to snap out of his postcoital haze. Stroking the hinge of his jaw “You know, how much I love you right? And if, we need to all sit down a re-”

Cutting you off with the smooth glide of his lips pulling you into a kiss that’s a slower, less needy, there’s no ulterior motive, Tae just wants to feel you “Nah, I don't wanna change anything sometimes- I just want-”

“I know...” Because you do, pressing your forehead to his, not even kissing just letting your breaths melt as one. Massaging his scalp gently, he already looks like he’s a second away from passing out! Pondering if maybe the two of you should switch places...

“Promise you’ll let me take care of you later” Tae nuzzles against the side of your face like a puppy wanting his ears scratched! Believe it or not he wasn’t always such a selfless lover, not until he found you guys! Now it’s almost like his orgasms feel incomplete if he’s the only one coming once it’s all said and done!

“You can do whatever you want to me Tae, you know this.” Placing a couple lingering kisses on those pouty lips of his before hesitantly shuffling into the passengers seat. Transfixed on the way he slips back into his lane, fixing his hair, pulling out his oversized cat eye frames to rest on the bridge of his nose. One hand on the wheel the other finding there home on your thigh. Noting the slight discomfort as he shifts in his seat, no doubt due to the fact that well, he just came in his pants.

“How about..” Leaning over to place a open mouth kiss right beneath is ear, digging your nails into his thigh until he moans.  “ I clean you up a little on the drive, and we pit stop at mine, and we drop you off first so you can shower and chill. Then me and Joon will come back and crawl into bed with you after were done for the day..”

“Am I being given the rest of the day off Mrs. Kim?” You can already hear the smirk in his voice without even looking...

“Yes Mr. Kim that would be correct....” Already working the zipper before he can even respond because you already know how this is about to pan out...

___________________

Hi my babies, first off IDK where this came from, I also wouldn’t consider it my best, but it was the first thing I’ve written in like 6 months which felt good. This was supposed to be up back in December I had a couple holiday prompts for the series that I never got around to completing ! But If you enjoyed show this some love and come talk to me!

Love always,

Rocki

[writebecauseyoucannotbreathe]

Ultimate Ship Meme: Azulaang

Rate the Ship -  

Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Until I say so. I can see them being together after death as spirits.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Ooooh boy. Azula struggles to understand friendship. I think she'd fall in love fast and hard but take the longest to realize. Aang wouldn't let himself get attached at first because Azula is unapologetic and one of the things I like about Azulaang is how it would push Aang to deals with the nitty gritty gray, not in a The Fire Nation was right all along way but in how even Kyoshi and Roku's conflict resolution let to disagreements. I think it would take Aang longer to fall in but once they reach a semblance of common ground he'd be well aware he's falling in love and would enjoy the ride.

How was their first kiss? - Let's see my fanfics. In Blue it was awkward. In Weightless it was sweet. In Smut it was horny and hate filled. In canon I think their first kiss would be very passionate and then they snap back to reality and Aang would evade while Azula denies so they wouldn't talk about it but they'd for sure be thinking about the kiss.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Technically Azula. As soon as Aang hears about a Fire Nation wedding, either his friends or he learns about Ozai and Ursa's wedding, his mind would be set on a wedding. He wouldn't say anything but he'd squirrel away relevant wedding information like he'd hear a song and go "I want that instrument to play at my wedding." But Azula would have her life planned out by other people and there'd be a set date where Ozai now Zuko are supposed to comb through suitor requests (it was probably Ursa's role. If she's there she'd talk to Azula directly instead of Lo and Li. I don't think Lo and Li are high enough rank to determine the suitor but I think it would be customary/expected for their input to be asked). Azula would tell Aang something along the lines of "I should be wed." and he'd agree and then Azula will spend an abnormally long time wondering if he married her because he liked her or because it's his duty until she asks him while he's discussing potential baby room colors pre wedding.

Who is the best man/men? - Sokka and Toph. Azula was going to pick Momo but he made a better flower girl. Yes she did this to annoy Zuko (and because Toph didnt want to wear the bridesmaid outfit) it's okay though Fire Lord Zuko was the guest of honor.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Katara, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee. Mai pretends she hates the outfit but she's secretly pleased.

Who did the most planning? - Aang did the most thinking but Azula did the most planning.

Who stressed the most? - Externally Aang. Internally Azula.

How fancy was the ceremony? -

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

100% Azula's fault. Aang has no clue what Fire Nation weddings are supposed to be like.

Aang: Wow I can't believe all weddings in your Nation are this big.

Azula: They're not. It's because I'm Royalty and you're the Avatar.

Though I hc that Aang wants to get married in all the different Nations and Azula secretly wants to experience a small wedding so they get married 3 more times with one of them being a very small Air Nation wedding.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Hmmm I'm not sure. On one hand, Ozai redemption. On the other hand, Ozai death.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Aang. Azula thinks she wants to be on top but she'd rather be pampered and Aang is more comfortable communicating and attending to needs. Aang has no strong preference either way and they do switch but this is their usual dynamic.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Azula but she denies it.

How healthy is their sex life? -

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

I think it's up to the reader's preference but I can see them being very private (Azula) and naturally talented (Aang) to the point where they assume every couple has sex daily. Hc that Aang and Suki talk about sex freely (ex: When I do __ should I __ or do girls prefer ___? I can never tell with Azula. Why do guys do ___ after ____ ? I've tried asking Sokka but he doesn't give me a straight answer.) Much to the fear of Sokka and Azula.

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

Again up to the reader. They both like learning new things and are prodigies so I think they'd end up reading about things to try in bed (Azula) and would try things out to see what they like (Aang) until they learn what they and each other generally like/dislike.

How long do they normally last? - 

Does the Avatar State remove your refractory period? >;3c

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - No. Aang likes overstimulating.

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

Neither can dirty talk. Azula is rougher. Aang likes to take it slow. She sets the pace in the beginning but he decides when it ends.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Azula refuses to cuddle in public but in return they cuddle all night.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - hc them having twin boys at first with one firebender and one airbender because poetry. But Azula really wants a girl so they have a third child she is an airbender with Aang's charm and knack for getting in trouble and Azula's ruthlessness. Amon kidnaps her and instead of easily escaping (Aang's genes) she instead viciously mocks him the way only a preteen can (Azula's genes.) It's traumatic enough for Amon even before the parents show up. Then Aang wants another one and Azula wants another firebender so they do the do and surprise triplets! (maybe it has to do with ejaculatimg in the Avatar State lol) So 6 in total and lets say its 3 boys 3 girls with 3 airbenders 3 firebenders.

How many children will they adopt? - None. Azula is wary of motherhood and I know people like to hc Aang as adopting and while I can see him acting as a father figure to several kids I think he'd greatly prefer biological kids especially airbenders. It's a flaw that was barely touched upon and def not handled well in Legend of Korra.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Servants or Aang. After a kid or two Azula would be comfortable enough to change the diapers but it would still be mostly Aang.

Who is the stricter parent? - Depends on the kid. Aang is more lenient with airbenders and Azula with firebenders or girls. I can see Azula being strict with training & studies but not with sharing whereas Aang would have less rules but they'd be more heavily enforced (ex: no airgliding without supervision until you've mastered the safety course)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Azula. She's pretty lenient with the term dangerous esp. when it comes to firebending as long as basic safety measures are applied (ex: you can pracrice lightning as long as it's not pointed towards yourself aka dont be Zuzu) but Aang is of the mindset "How are you gonna learn airbending without dangerous stunts?" And after the first few incidents she started stepping in.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Azula but Aang cooks them.

Who is the more loved parent? - Appa

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Azula. When Aang attends the teachers shower him and his kids with compliments ("You're doing so well teaching your kids the values of the Air Nomads. It must be so hard being The Last Airbender"). They do the same with Azula but unlike Aang she sees through it and manages to get an accurate assessment of how their kids are doing.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Aang was more happy than sad. Azula cried before and after.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Aang. He is a notorious lawbreaker. Azula would bail the kids and she could do so quicker than Aang in a few cases because of her connections but she'd be mad so their kids would rather call Aang or break themselves out.

Cooking: 

Who does the most cooking? - Tied. Aang at first but then Azula wants to learn and after Aang teaches her since she has less experience she finds more enjoyment in cooking.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - 

Technically Aang since he's a vegetarian. Azula hasn't tried as many foods and she's used to not making a fuss at the family dinner table to the point of which Aang notices.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Both. Aang has a better eye for vegetables/fruits and Azula is better with prices (it's not about the cost it's about the value).

How often do they bake desserts? - Aang bakes them when he can/weekly. They're fruit based so if Azula doesn't want dessert he gives it to Momo or flings it at a target.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Gee I wonder. Aang eats salad Azula eats meat.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Aang but Azula tends to figures it out. Azula is more likely to plan a dinner but she wouldn't make it a surprise.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Aang but Azula is a close second. It would be a tie if it wasn't for the bathhouse.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Accidentally? Aang. On purpose? Azula.

Who cleans the room? - Servants or Aang.

Chores: 

Who is really against chores? - Azula hates cleaning up but she's neater.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Aang.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Aang.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Azula.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Aang.

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Azula. In the Fire Nation Palace Aang has taken to chatting with Azula in the Royal Spa while he feeds her (and mostly himself) cherries.

Misc:

Who takes the dog Appa out for a walk? - Aang

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Never. Once they like the room they like the room. If its an event they'll go to a different location for it or leave the Air Temple as is.

What are their goals for the relationship? -

To stay together.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? -

Aang slept for a hundred years so I'll give it to him.

Who plays the most pranks? - Tie. They've both pulled elaborate pranks as kids.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 285: You Looked Like You Needed Saving

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all, “hey guys I’m just gonna fight Tomura one on one and risk my own life rather than risk letting him do the whole Destroying Everything bit again.” Kacchan was all “WAIT NO ARE YOU SERIOUS THAT’S THE EXACT THING I HATE THE MOST” and indignantly launched into his “P.S. I CARE ABOUT DEKU” flashback, which was a revelation in that it proved exactly what Bakugou fans have been saying this whole time, AND YET OUR MINDS WERE STILL BLOWN ANYWAY, BECAUSE HOLY SHIT, HE REALLY WENT AND SAID IT OUT LOUD THOUGH. Anyway, so Deku’s strategy for defeating Tomura is to, you guessed it, break his fucking arms again; and meanwhile a frantic Katsuki is gearing up on the sidelines to do something really awesome and incredibly stupid, probably; and all in all it’s a pretty terrible situation our boys have found themselves in. Terrible for them, but GREAT for me, and I’ve never been so hyped in my life omg.

Today on BnHA: Deku breaks both of his arms like a dozen times over. Like, just pages and pages of arm breaking. Just like in the good old days! Meanwhile Kacchan is all “jesus christ, okay you know what would be a better idea, JUST SETTING HIM ON FIRE AGAIN”, and so he grabs Shouto and Endeavor, and they do a whole Prominence Burn combo thing. The AFO-inside-of-Tomura is all “‘sup it’s me again, but seriously now would be a REALLY good time to let me take over your body”, and so Tomura TOTALLY DOES LET HIM TAKE OVER, WHOOP, and so AFO is all “HELLS YEAH.” And then he STRAIGHT UP STABS MY SON, WHOSE BODY WAS SIMPLY MOVING ON ITS OWN, YOU KNOW, JUST HERO THINGS. Anyway so now Kacchan is fucking dead*, and so if I were AFO I would start putting as much distance as possible between myself and Deku right the fuck now, because boy, IF YOU THOUGHT HE WAS MAD BEFORE? Holy shit. We’re about to see a whole new level aren’t we.

LOL WE’RE OFF TO A GRAND OLD START

Deku’s arms should sue for legal emancipation. I think most of us can agree that they’re probably better off without him. sure they’ll have to buy their own food and stuff, but I think the trade-off is more than fair

oh wow that 100% shit really is something though

too bad it did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!! spoiler alert. I don’t even have to scroll to the next page, Deku. we already know

OH MY GOD ARE YOU SERIOUS

did Deku really pull off some “three hits in one” bullshit, or is this a mistranslation referring to the fact that Deku’s already hit him twice with his left arm, and so this is now the third 100% hit. kinda hoping for the latter, ngl. either way though, I’m really getting a “Deku’s arms are legitimately done for” vibe from this

ESPECIALLY SINCE:

DEKU YOU SHRUB!!! WAS IT WORTH IT YOU EGG FDKF KKDJ YOU DON’T GET BONUS POINTS FOR BREAKING THEM TWICE

goddammit I’m pretty sure he just Detroit Smashed the last remaining hero brain cell. now they have diddly squat to work with, oh this is bad

...

do you guys remember a few weeks back when I was joking about him breaking the rest of his bones and using Blackwhip to move his shattered body around like a grotesque marionette. do you specifically remember the part where that was a joke

holy shit Deku. it’s like we’re all the way back to square one with you. wasn’t that like the first thing Aizawa taught you, not to break your whole body apart? how are you supposed to fight Tomura if you can’t move?? why didn’t you wait for one of your pals who could hit him with an attack from long range WITHOUT BREAKING EVERY SINGLE BONE IN THEIR BODIES. WHERE DID YOUR BIG HERO BRAIN GO

boy you better pray one of those remaining quirks is a healing factor, or else you’re gonna be on IR for a LONG time. anyway. idk why I’m getting so worked up when I already knew this was going to happen lol. it’s just like Katsuki said; he takes himself out of the equation. it’s worth sacrificing his own body if it means he can take out AFO and prevent Tomura from hurting anyone else again. it’s just that... well. you know that saying about taking calculated risks when you are bad at math?

GUH I REALLY HATE THAT TOMURA IS STILL COMPLETELY FINE KSKWOILWKKJ AT LEAST PRETEND TO BE A LITTLE HURT, WOULD YOU

please ignore all of those worried-sounding thoughts; I think we all know that’s a bunch of bullshit. completely and utterly fine. the only person Deku’s attacks hurt was himself. hip hip hooray

anyway. so now, this!

pretty sure he can’t use Decay or AFO without at least touching SOMETHING, so I’m guessing this is another one of his new quirks. dammit Tomura why are you so fucking invincible

HAHAHA MEANWHILE

if I were you, Deku’s Arms, I would simply detach from his body altogether at this point. cut my losses. mmm

OOF HE HIT HIM WITH THE WHOLE OF TEXAS

spoiler alert: again, it did nothing. SORRY TO KEEP RUINING THE SUSPENSE FOR YOU GUYS. is there a single human being reading this who thought for even for the milliest of seconds that this stood a chance of working though

OH MY GOD

DEKU GET IT TOGETHER YOU’RE STARTING TO LOOK LIKE THE ENIGMA OF AMIGARA FAULT AND I CAN’T STAND THIS ACTUALLY

so Tomura is all “there must be something I can do to stop this fucking kid” and shuffling through his quirk pokedex while he’s tossed around bleeding in the air

hey Tomura I’ll tell you right now that you don’t actually need to do a damn thing except not die for roughly the next thirty seconds or so, and then you’ve got this. the quirk that can stop this kid is called “One for All”, and it just so happens he’s already got you covered bruh

and Katsuki’s realized the same thing, apparently!

SHOUTO YOU’RE NOT EVEN LOOKING?? wow that is some trust right there. focused on cauterizing Gran and Aizawa’s wounds, I guess

MEANWHILE KATSUKI IS PULLING OUT ALL THE STOPS. HE FOUND A NEW BRAIN CELL! A WHOLE DAMN CACHE OF FRESH NEW BRAIN CELLS, LOOK AT THIS

THANKS FOR THAT, PROFESSOR

OH SHIT SON ARE WE MOUNTING A COUNTERATTACK?

I like how Endeavor is just SITTING THERE in the background looking all disgruntled. yes, sorry about that sir, this is now Kacchan’s show. he’s in charge now. time for that long-range attack I was complaining about them not doing earlier?? hopefully?? omg

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS IT’S A BAKUROKI TRIPLE COMBO?!?!

ARE YOU GOING TO YEET THEM A LA GANG ORCA?? ALSO OH MY GOD, HE REALLY IS IN CHARGE. FIRST DEKU TOOK OVER FOR TWO MINUTES UNTIL HE BROKE ALL HIS BONES, AND NOW IT’S KACCHAN’S TIME. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU KIDS

LOL SHOUTO’S GETTING IN ON THIS TOO

THIS JUST IN, THE KIDS HAVE TAKEN OVER THE MANGA, ADULTS OF BNHA IN SHAMBLES

WELL MAYBE NEXT TIME DON’T LET AIZAWA GET SHOT THEN, YOU HAT!!!

WOOP OKAY WE FLYING NOW

Kacchan, tired of sitting back watching Deku invent new ways to die, decides to improvise a few of his own. hmmmmmmm

(ETA: HE LEARNED FROM THE BEST ORZ.)

OKAY WAIT A MINUTE NOW

why does this sound like he’s planning something on his own after the Todorokis have done their part. KACCHAN. EXCUSE ME, KACCHAN

SDLFKJLKJLJ

OKAY HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

IS THIS LEADING WHERE I THINK IT’S LEADING, HOLY --

-- ooOF

I WASN’T FUCKING READY FOR THAT ONE. BAKUBULLYING FROM HIS OWN NOW-REMORSEFUL POV. SHIT. FUCKING FELT THAT. HERE I THOUGHT YOU WERE BUILDING UP TO AN “ALL FOR ONE FOR ALL” REVEAL, AND THEN YOU GO AND PULL THAT INSTEAD, WHAT’S GOING ON

-- HOLD UP WE’RE NOT DONE WITH THIS ONE YET MAYBE!!

“ONE FOR ALL IS”??!? KDSLFJAKLSJLKJLKJL AND THEN INTERRUPTING ME WITH THE CUTE BABIES WATCHING THE ALL MIGHT FOOTAGE, OH MY GOD. I’M JUST WILDLY REACTING TO EVERYTHING THAT’S BEING THROWN AT ME RIGHT NOW LMAO I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS IS LEADING

OOF THE NOTEBOOK

KACCHAN THIS ISN’T EVEN YOUR MEMORY HONEY, GET IT TOGETHER

OH MY GLOB

THIS IS THE MOST NONSENSICAL SEQUENCE OF PANELS RIGHT NOW. I’M SURE THIS IS ALL SHORTLY GOING TO COME TOGETHER IN SOME PROFOUND WAY THAT’S GOING TO KICK MY EMOTIONS SQUARE IN THE BALLS, BUT RIGHT NOW I’M JUST ALL “OOH AHH” LIKE SOME HAPLESS RUBE ALONG FOR THE RIDE. p.s. this chapter still doesn’t have a title!! p.p.s. Horikoshi is a knave

(ETA: HORIKOSHI IS A FUCKING MALFEASANT!!)

I CAN’T TAKE THIS??

PLEASE STOP BUILDING UP TO WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE BUILDING UP TO AND JUST SAY IT ALREADY, I’M DYING OMG

...and we’re cutting back to the action. godfuckingdammit it’s gonna be one of those chapters where the entire thing is just buildup to some huge reveal on the very last page isn’t it

(ETA: [sounds of screaming heard in the distance])

anyway so this next page is just Deku flying in the air, and Tomura flying through the air, and Endeavor+Katsuki+Shouto flying through the air, and everyone’s flying through the air, and we’re all just flying. TALK TO ME MORE ABOUT THE CURSE OF OFA DAMN IT

OOHHHHHH

guess if it was good enough for Hood, it’s probably their best shot huh. better than whatever the fuck Deku was trying to pull at any rate

OOP

gotta admit, if I didn’t already know full well that Tomura could not possibly die here, I’d have been pretty convinced he was dying here lol

DSFKJL ENDEAVOR BUDDY YOU MIGHT HAVE POSSIBLY OVERDONE IT JUST A BIT

wait... is that Blackwhip...?? or???

OH SHIT

WHAT EVEN IS THIS CHAPTER, COME ON

-- FMMMJAKAKJDJL, UM

TIME TO SCROLL BACK UP TO THAT PANEL OF TOMURA BEING MELTED, AND READ WHAT AFO WAS SAYING A LITTLE MORE CAREFULLY LMAOOOO. LOL. WHOOPS. OH NO KATSUKI WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

AHHHHHHHH

WHAT’S WITH THE NARRATION SQUARE ALL OF A SUDDEN AHHHHHH

oh my fresh and citrusy lord. this is it isn’t it. all of my theories converge at once. Tomura being possessed by AFO; OFA is AFO/Deku has AFO; Katsuki does something stupid and loses his quirk. THE PERFECT STORM. THEORY SINGULARITY

oh my lord oh my god oh my lord oh my god honey what are you doing, honey, no

his body’s moving before he can think. WHAT ARE THESE FLASHBACKS OF ALL HIS DEKU RELATED MEMORIES. BULLYING DEKU, BEING SAVED FROM THE SLUDGE MONSTER, RECONCILING WITH HIM AT GROUND BETA, OH MY GOD. I’M NOT READY. [WRAPS MYSELF IN A BLANKET BURRITO AND SLOWLY SCROLLS DOWN FROM THE SAFETY OF MY COCOON]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HORIKOSHI KOUHEI: [LOADS GUN WITH CHAPTER TITLE AND AIMS DIRECTLY FOR MY HEART]

ME: [SWEATING]

HORIKOSHI: [SMILES, REACHES FOR THE TRIGGER... AND THEN SUCKER PUNCHES ME SQUARE IN THE FACE]

excuse me WHAT. PARDON, THE FUCK. WHY ARE THE FIRST FEW LONE PIANO NOTES OF ADELE’S “SKYFALL” PLAYING. WHAT THE FUCK

excuse me, Horikoshi. excuse me, could I just -- could I get. COULD I JUST GET A WORD WITH YOU FOR A MINUTE. SIR

son of a. ...how am I even supposed to wrap this up. just

sob okay. so let’s just. ...

All for One 100% just took Tomura’s body over. like, he was all “Tomura, you’re fucking dying, just give me your body you muppet”, and Tomura couldn’t really argue on account of he really was dying, and so, YOINK. which is the sound that a body makes when it’s being taken over, I think

All for One then activated his forced activation quirk?? which OF FUCKING COURSE he passed on to Tomura as well. so THAT’S JUST GREAT

Kacchan is seriously the fastest character in the series. the reflexes, the sheer speed necessary to intercept that hit? goddamn

every single one of those BakuDeku flashbacks are now wanted by the FBI for first-degree murder of me

this has nothing to do with Kacchan fucking dying and stuff, but is it just me or were there HUGE “Kacchan as Bakugou’s hero name” vibes earlier on in this chapter with the flashbacks to Deku explaining the meaning behind his own name, HMM

and speaking of, this is the first time we’ve gotten Kacchan narrating in the little box panels, unless I’m completely mistaken somehow. Horikoshi really waited almost 300 whole chapters to do that. and it was worth it. holy shit

fun fact, this moment is something that’s been on my wishlist since chapter 12 lol, you can go back and check the recap if you want. back then I called it a long shot. oh how the times have changed

I DON’T KNOW HOW I’M EVEN SO STUNNED ABOUT THIS, GUYS. this is exactly what I predicted at the end of the last chapter. MY CHILD IS DUMB. THAT’S ALL THERE IS TO IT. HE’S THAT EXACT KIND OF SHOUNEN DUMB. WE’VE KNOWN IT ALL ALONG

oh my god. and now Deku’s gonna go ham, arms or no arms. AND BETS ON WHICH NEW QUIRK HE’S ABOUT TO UNLOCK? because the last time someone so much as insulted Kacchan in his presence, he SPONTANEOUSLY GREW SHADOW TENTACLES OUT OF THE BLUE AND ATTEMPTED TO MURDER THE PERSON. so if this kid has got ANYTHING left up his sleeve, I have to imagine that SEEING HIS PRECIOUS CHILDHOOD FRIEND TAKE A DEADLY ATTACK MEANT FOR HIM is gonna leave him feeling SOME KINDA WAY. I literally have no idea what’s going to happen next but I would not count this angry little broccoli out yet. not as long as he’s still conscious

anyway. so I wonder what’s the world record for continuous screaming, and whether or not I could break said record by doing such nonstop from now until a week from now when I finally get to read the next chapter

...lol apparently the record is only 8 mins and 45 seconds so GOOD NEWS GUYS, WITH THE POWER OF THIS NEW CHAPTER, WE ARE GOING TO MAKE HISTORY. DEEP BREATH. -- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[stonesandswords]

Richard/Thierry (francophone bros unite)

two chaotic hotties with one french-speaking brain cell between the two of them? yes please

who’s the cuddler: Richard. He's the more touch-feely one of the two me thinks.

who makes the bed: They both make up only their side of the bed and refuse to touch the other person's side of the bed because they're both petty and hate how the other makes the bed.

who wakes up first: Richard wakes up first to get a run in, in the morning, but he always wakes Thierry up before he goes because he always hopes Tierry will make breakfast by the time he's back.

who has the weird taste in music: They both have relatively "normal" taste in music but will always make fun of each other's playlists.

who is more protective: Richard. He will go absolutely batshit insane if anyone tries to even look at Thierry wrong, no-holds-barred, take-no-hostages, and all that. Thierry IS protective but he tends to be more reserved and rationalize when is quite the right time to be outwardly protective versus when he should keep his protectiveness to himself.

who sings in the shower: Richard 100% He sings loudly so loudly it can be echoed through their flat but Thierry loves to hear it when he's across their flat doing something else. (Plus Thierry hums under his breath when trying to focus on playing video games.)

who cries during movies: They both do. Thierry will cry at basically any animated movie presented to him but any movie centered around a dog will have Richard in tears before the first 30 minutes are up.

who spends the most while out shopping: Thierry will drop any amount of money on sneakers and accessories and such but Richard will burn through so much money when it comes to expensive food and alcohol.

who kisses more roughly: Richard. He loves having Thierry's large and strong goalkeeper hands manhandling him into next week and will instigate a rough makeout session just to feel Thierry's hands all over him.

who is more dominate: Thierry. Especially knowing how much Richard is obsessed with his hands, he really makes sure to use his hands to his advantage when getting it on with Richard.

my rating of the ship from 1-10: A solid 9. I think they would be chaotically funny together but only in the most of adorable of ways.

send me a ship and i’ll answer these questions

[bellatrixxue]

Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67​ @amazingiam00​ @kalliravenne​ @indecisive20something​ @2musiclover2​ @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock​ @wingedcatninja​ @arvit​

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is  a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue