Heartbeat Part 2

(Final Part) <Part 1>

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 3,580

Warnings: Angsty at the beginning, umm mentions of suicide and depression, swearing

Summary: An idea given to me by @mcluuvin666 Thank you so much! Reader moves on from Sirius and he realizes he made a mistake

A/n: This took me forever to write, I hope you guys like it!

You used to tell yourself you didn’t cry, that it was weak. But that was never true. The truth was you had cried far more in your life than you would ever admit. You had cried when your parents yelled at you or when your father hit you or your mother cursed you. You had cried when you fell from the tree in your backyard and when you slipped off your bike when you were nine. You had cried when you failed your first exam in the second year and recently you cried for no reason at all other than you simply needed to. You never let anyone see it but you cried a lot. But you had never cried like this before

You lay in that classroom for what could have been an hour or could have been a year. Loud sobs clawing from your throat like a feral beast that had finally been released. You felt your head pound as you pressed your forehead to the floor. After some amount of time had passed your throat no longer allowed any sound but whimpers from you. You could still feel tears slide down your face dripping off your nose and pooling on its curves. Your face felt hot, too hot like it was boiling, flesh burning. 

Your mouth tasted bitter. You felt so frail. So incredibly weak. When you finally managed to get to your feet it was dark out, the moon nearly full, stars so bright they seemed only inches away. 

You made it outside easily, no one was around to stop you if there was you doubt they would have succeeded. You stepped out onto the dewy grass where you once lay with Sirius. Where he had kissed you, where you had said you loved him and where he hadn't responded. 

You should have felt stupid, so fucking stupid, but you didn’t. You didn't feel anything, anger, misery, hatred, despair and so many other bottles of feelings had been released. And now they were gone. And you felt numb. Your heart had slowed to its normal pace as you continued across the grass appearing silver in the moonlight. 

You walked until your feet met with wood, you traveled out to the dock, the sound of crickets and small frogs filling you. 

You stopped at the end of the dock. You contemplated taking another step, letting your body become a part of the darkness before you. 

And then you did. 

Your body hit the water and you were plunged into a cold you had never felt before. Your robes soaked instantly and you began to sink. You slowly parted your eyelids, you looked upwards at the celestial being above you quivering under the lense of wetness. You could see the moon, but your eyes didn't stay on the small planet for long. They traveled to the brightest star in the sky. Sirius. It blinked back at you slowly moving further and further away as your lungs began to burn. Your hair began to float in front of your face, your robes reaching towards the light as you were dragged backward by an unseeable force. 

Then your eyes slipped shut and the fire inside you built, the burn strengthening. You could still see the bright star in your eyelids. 

You felt the numbness suddenly disappear and for the first time in your entire life you were alone and you actually felt alive. 

Your feet began to kick, black dress shoes moving in a flutter. You pushed yourself upwards, arms pumping as your eyes popped back open, your chest burnt, you would make it you knew you would, because you were still alive, and you would stay that way. 

When you broke the surface of the water you immediately drew in a harsh breath forcing water further down your lungs as you began to cough. You managed to the shore collapsing in a heap of coughs. Until your lungs cleared and you were finally allowed to breathe normally again. 

You're sitting staring out at the lake, ripples lingering from your plunge. The moon and stars reflected back at you making you feel as if you were trapped between two godly works of art and you could only stare, your heart thumped loudly you felt amazing, amused, and absolutely alive. Because you were alive. And you weren't about to let so asshole with mommy issues change that. 

You felt a smile creep onto your lips as you stood. Your robes weighed what must have been thousands of pounds but you didn't care. You let out a light bubble of laughter chin tilting upwards as you breathed in deeply the scent of midnight dew and pond water filling you as your hair clung to your face. You extended your arms, spreading them like an eagle.

"I'm alive." You whispered up in the sky. And you were. 

You awoke the next morning feeling as if you had dropped 50 pounds. Standing wasn't a struggle, your eyelids didn't drag downward, your heartbeat was lively and awake. You simply felt good. 

When you arrived in the great hall for breakfast you were met with quite a few surprised faces. You could see Sirius staring at you from his corner of toxic masculinity. The surprise in his eyes made rage cycle through you. You were tempted to run and scream at him, but you didn’t. You took a deep breath reminding yourself that was exactly what he wanted and you refused to give in to his wants ever again. You ate breakfast while reading one of your favorite books you had dug out of your trunk that morning. Everything seemed so much easier after last night. 

You surprised just about everyone in your herbology class by being quite kind to the Hufflepuff who sat next to you. You had even asked for some help baffling the light-haired girl. During Transfiguration, you had made a point to apologize to McGonagall for missing that morning’s detention. Her eyes had gone wide and she had looked a bit pale, asking if you were alright which you assured her you were. 

On your way to lunch, you did something absolutely unliveable. A young Gryffindor had been cornered in a remote hallway you used as a shortcut. You had come across five second-year girls who were teasing the poor girl, snickers leaving their mouth. You had debated continuing walking but you let out a sharp sigh and took a few steps towards the girls grabbing the two who were currently taking charge by their hair. 

They had shrieked as you yanked them backward. Once they had turned and met your face the color had drained from their own. A sweet smile graced your lips. You asked them if they knew who you were. Both nodded quickly. 

“Good.” You continued to grin, “Then you should know I don’t bluff. Now I will ask you once. Leave this girl alone or next time I will rip the hair from your head.” 

They had scattered after you released them, their friends already long gone. You walked towards the girl on the ground. She had on large horn-rimmed glasses which magnified her sky blue eyes. Her teeth held bright pink banded braces, her hair a dirty blonde. 

“Let me guess, you’re a mud- muggleborn.” You said catching yourself quickly. 

She nodded slowly, she looked terrified.

You laughed a bit and she jumped. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a changed woman, plus muggles write the best books.” You winked. “I’m y/n y/l/n.” You extended a hand. 

“Rebecca Lastings.” She responded quietly, taking your offer as you helped pull her to her feet. 

“Well, I’m starving. You wanna get lunch?” You asked as you helped gather her scattered books. 

She smiled a bit, “Yeah sure.” 

Lunch was... interesting. Turned out that Rebecca had an older sister named Laney Lastings - in your opinion a very catchy name - and when she saw her sister eating lunch with one of the most infamous Slytherins she was reasonably concerned. 

When the Ravenclaw had marched up to you as you were shoveling chicken salad into your mouth you had once again done the shocking thing. You smiled and greeted the girl. 

“What are you doing with my little sister.” She had hissed cutting you short. 

You shrugged, “Eating.” 

The blonde scoffed, “Becc lets go.” she snatched her sister’s arm but to her surprise Rebecca resisted. 

“But she was just telling me about a book she read.” The younger girl spoke softly. By the look on the older’s face, you guessed she didn’t defy orders often. “It sounded very interesting.” 

Laney looked up at you. You just shrugged. “What is going on?” she looked a bit shook up. 

“Look I know what you think of me, hell what every single person in this room thinks of me but I’m a changed woman.” You explained, “I am honestly just talking to your sister, I have no intention of hurting her in any way shape or form.” 

Laney’s eyes narrowed but Rebecca sat back down and took a bite of her peanut butter sandwich. “Come on y/l/n people don’t just change overnight.” 

You shrugged again, “I did. Feel free to join us.” You motioned to the seat next to Laney’s sister and to your surprise she took it. And for the first time in your entire life, you had made actual friends. 

You dreaded detention the next morning but to your surprise, it was rather pleasant. When you entered the large room it was already sanctioned into two groups. One contained three boys sitting in neighboring desks while the second held one dark-haired boy at the back of the room glaring at the former group. 

You raised an eyebrow in confusion and sat a few desks away from both crowds. You then began to sort the paperwork you were told to, taking a walkman out and clipping in a favored artist. 

About halfway through the hour, you were drawn from your work when a figure appeared before you. You looked up to see a pair of hazel eyes and curly hair hidden under a navy beanie. You removed your headphones letting them rest around your neck giving him a questioning look. 

“Hey.” He managed, looking a bit unsure of himself.

“Hey?” You responded, glancing at the group he had left meeting to pair of eyes which quickly darted away.

“So umm, I know it's not really my place to say but I’m sorry,” Remus spoke, biting his lip. 

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, still visibly confused. 

He lowered his voice, “What Sirius did was really fucked up.” Suddenly the sanctions made sense, “And I just thought I would let you know that I’m sorry on his behalf.” 

You let out a small laugh, “Please don’t Remus, you clean up enough of that boy's messes already, don’t put this on yourself. But thanks anyway.” You shrugged going to put back on your headphones. 

“Laney told me about what you did for her little sister.” He spoke in a rush. 

You stopped, “And?” 

“She has been trying to get those girls to leave Becc alone for like three months, she started skipping classes and meals to avoid them, it was bad. But you stopped them with one conversation. That was really nice of you y/n.” Remus stated. 

“It was whatever.” You answered with a shrug. 

“It really wasn’t,” He protested, “But look we both wanted to ask you if you wanted to come to our study session tomorrow night. We get together three times a week, it’s me Laney and a few others, they’re all pretty chill and it would be great  if you could come.” 

A smile found your face, “Really?” 

“Yeah, we meet in the library after dinner.” He was playing with his fingers now. 

“Okay, sure. That sounds awesome.” You said. 

“Great.” He grinned bouncing on the balls of his feet before turning and leaving. 

“Hey, Remus.” You called just before he made it back to his seat. He whipped his head to look at you. “Thanks.” 

In all honesty, being nice was completely exhausting, actually caring what others thought of you took its toll, especially after the well-crafted reputation you had built for yourself. You had also started paying attention in classes for the first time in a long time so you had mountains of homework and suddenly understood your peer’s desperation for good grades. You tried to convince yourself that a study group was a brilliant idea but your worries ate away at you. 

What happened when most of the group hated you? Would they cuss you out? What if they refused you despite Remus’s invitation? There was so much room for failure. Godric making friends was difficult. 

You busied yourself with the nightly homework in the common room, you had gotten used to the strange looks you received. A whistle drew yourself from your herbology sketch. 

“Wow y/l/n, I did not expect you to turn into a loser when you found out.” 

You rolled your eyes at the familiar voice, “Avery.” You drawled.

“What has gotten into you?” He asked, taking a seat next to you, “First you help out a mudblood, then you go and make friends with her filthy sister and now you're doing Herbology homework?” 

You glared at the boy, “Don’t call them that.” 

He only smirked back, “I must say you look much prettier without the bags beneath your eyes and a little effort put in.” 

“Go fuck yourself.” You spat resisting the urge to strangle him. 

“There’s the y/n I know.” He smiled triumphantly, “But where has she been? People don’t change overnight.” 

“Well, I did douchebag.” You hissed. 

“No you didn't.” he sneered, “You're still the same stone-cold bitch, you’re just hiding it and let me tell you, I can’t wait for that mask to break.” 

Your hand tightened around your quill, “Shut up.” 

“I’ll be there to catch you when you fall y/l/n. I’m glad you’re wearing skirts again, you look hot.” He taunted his face so close to your own you could smell his cologne. 

You were about to slap him but before you could a voice resonated through the air, “Avery back off her.” 

You both looked up and you met the gaze of a Slytherin you swear you had never seen before. He had dark hair and darker eyes, his face was sharply cut, lips looking far too rounded on his visage. 

“What do you have on it Dapperton?” Avery asked leaning away from you. 

“Just back off.” His tone was harsh, a thick Scottish accent in his voice. 

“Whatever.” Avery scoffed standing and shooting you one last glance before leaving the room. 

“You okay?” The boy you now knew as Dapperton asked.

“Yeah, fine.” You managed. 

“Cool, listen I was wondering if you could help me with my Arithmetic, I’ve heard you are pretty good at it.” He said. 

“Sure. I’m y/-” 

“I know who you are.’” He laughed, “I’m Lewis. Lewis Dapperton.” 

“Okay, nice to meet you, Lewis.” 

You had made three official friends. 

You tried not to let Avery’s words bother you as the days passed. But it was hard. The study group had been a bit awkward but not all that bad, Lewis was actually a member much to your surprise. Nights became difficult again. The idea that maybe this was just a passing phase and that it was simply a few good days got to you. I mean people didn’t just change overnight. 

But I did. You screamed at yourself. I swear I did.

It all came crashing into a dreadful climax two weeks after night it all started. 

It had been two weeks of confusion that morphed to anger and soon into sadness and jealousy for Sirius Black. When he had seen you in the great hall the night after you had found out about the thirty points he had almost shit his pants. You were up? And you were smiling?! He was sure you were going to come over and rip his throat out at breakfast. But you didn’t You just sat at your isolated seat at the end of the Slytherin table and read, looking surprisingly relaxed. 

You had left a bit early and Remus had dumped his pumpkin juice on him saying he was a complete objectifying asshole and part of the reason why women were not viewed equal to men. Leave it to the feminist to ruin a perfectly normal bet. He had made the mistake of saying that out loud and caused an uproar at the Gryffindor table. 

He had seen you working in the few shared classes you had and had been quite surprised. How was it you were having a better day than him? He supposed karma bit harshly. When you saw you at lunch sitting with a young Gryffindor girl he had once again been completely boggled. And soon you were joined by a Ravenclaw as well. What universe was he in? 

That night he had gotten into another heated argument with his best friends. One that ended in him sleeping in the common room, locked away from his bed. 

He had dreamt of you. That night when you had stargazed. When you had kissed him. When you had told him you loved him. He dreamt of your lips on his, hands in his hair, the dew seeping through his robes and the chirp of crickets. 

The next morning sucked. He sat alone during detention forced to watch as you happily hummed along to your music. Your hair was pulled back and it looked surprisingly nice. You were also wearing a skirt. When did you get so pretty? Remus talked to you and mentioned him. Sirius bit his tongue not wanting to cause a scene. Plus the glare James was giving him hurt on another level. 

The week got worse and worse. Suddenly you had friends and had started hanging out with a far too handsome Slytherin. You also choose that week to look ridiculously gorgeous and suddenly his thoughts were full of you. He found himself missing your scent and the texture of your hair. The sound of your laughter was a drug he had been deprived of. 

His dreams of you got worse. He dreamt that he had told you he loved you when you asked. He dreamed he hadn’t left you alone. He dreamed of laughing in detention with you, making out in broom closets, going to quidditch matches together, sleeping with you. 

He woke each day more aggravated than the last. Why the fuck was he the one suffering? It wasn’t fair. Well, he supposed it was. Finally, he gathered his remailing pride and tossed it out a window before cornering you on the way back from herbology. 

“Y/n please just give me a minute.” He begged as you began to walk away. 

“Sirius I have wasted far too many of my minutes on you.” You spat glaring past the boy.

“Please.” He pleaded.

You sighed tapping your foot angrily, “You’ve got one minute.”

It was then Sirius realized he had absolutely no plan, “What’s up with you?” 

“What?” You glowered refusing to meet his eye.

“I mean you’re all nice and shit and you’re actually hanging out with people. It’s weird.” He explained.

“So, me being nice is weird?” You clarified. 

“Yeah! People don’t change overnight!” He rationalized. 

“So I’ve been told.” You murmured, “Look if this is all just about me being nice then please save me time and leave me alone.” 

Sirius groaned, “It’s not just that! How are you so, so I don’t know okay?”

You finally looked him in the eyes and he really wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were dark with anger, narrowed to slits, reminding him of a snake. “You wanna know why I’m so okay?” You asked and suddenly he didn’t. “Because I was really really not fucking okay.” 

Sirius was visibly confused, “What?” 

“I almost drowned myself that night Sirius.” You hissed. 

His heart stopped. “What.” 

“Yeah.” You snarled, “I walked straight off that dock, shoes and all, and I let myself sink halfway to the bottom before I decided I wanted to live.” You spoke gesturing towards the lake.

Sirius wanted the earth to swallow him whole. You wouldn’t have opposed. 

“And when finally reached the shore I had an epiphany.” You spoke with false glamor. “I suddenly realized I wasn’t going to let cock suckers like you and my parents decided anything about me and the way I live my life.” 

Sirius wanted to break into tears. He started at you. The face he had been dreaming of for weeks meer meters from him and suddenly realized how desperately in love with you he was. 

“So guess what, I changed overnight because I would have died if I didn’t.” You spat before brushing past him without another word. Sirius grabbed your wrist as you passed.

You turned glaring at him. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” He spoke his voice breaking halfway through the sentence. 

“You know I can’t answer that.” You scoffed snatching your wrist from his hold and turning to leave. 

Sirius watched as you left so full of regret he couldn’t think of anything but what-ifs. When you were out of sight he sat on the ground and began to cry. 

Taglist:

@wtfdanness

@darkhorse-of-your-dream

@geeksareunique

@songforhema

@wangmangagavroche

@evyiione

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

Cross Road

Title- Cross road (one Shot)

Genre- Demon Au & Best friends to lovers

Pairing- Demon best friend Hoshi x human reader

words- 6600+

warnings- Lots of talk about sex and baby making, virgin sacrifice, hoshi being the best, and yah

Plot- You and Soonyoung have been best friends since you were kids. You thought you knew everything there was to know about him,but little did you know your childhood crush had a surprising secret.

Masterlist

---------------

Kwon Soonyoung. 

He’s a sweet man, a funny man, and even a smart man. Well… is man really the right word? Sort of. You wouldn’t really know how to describe him. Other than being the best person you know and love. 

He’s special to say the least. 

But to tell that story we have to go back. 

Way back.

———————————-

You were sitting on the playground during recess. It was the first day of kindergarten and kids ran around, already making new friends as the day progressed. You didn’t really pay much attention to it at the time, you just sat there. Not that you were shy or anything, but no one really came to you. You sit with your legs dangling off the edge of the playground watching other kids play tag. The boys provoke the girls to chase them around with the risk of getting cooties. As you watch , a finger taps your shoulder lightly. 

“Hey you look like a sad lonely person.” You turned your head around to see a boy. He had chubby cheeks and a bright welcoming smile. You mean to say something back but you didn’t really know how to take being called a sad lonely person. “Hello? Anyone in there?” He questions and knocks his knuckles against the side of your head playfully. 

“Huh?” Was your only response. The boy nudged himself next to you. 

“I’ll make sure you’re not sad and lonely anymore.” He stated as he dragged you towards the slide. He ushered you to sit down first then excitedly sat behind you. After giving a count off, he pushes you both. The weight of two kids proved to be a little much and caused you to go past the end of the slide. Both of your butts land with a thump onto the sand. Rubbing his behind, The boy helps you up before you both burst into a fit of giggles.

“My name is kwon soonyoung.” He holds out his chubby hand. You return the gesture with a high five after not really knowing that he was asking for a hand shake. 

“I’m ___”

-

Middle school came around quickly and Again you found yourself sitting by yourself. It’s lunchtime and you sit patiently, sipping on your water bottle. Middle school was a weird time in your life, usually with growing up... comes changes. Whether that be physically or mentally. But one thing for sure that hasn’t changed is...

“Why do you look like a sad loner?” A smile made its way on your face and you turned to see your best friend already by your side. He settles in the seat next to yours at the long table. 

“Can’t I be a loner for 5 minutes Soonyoung? You’re by my side all the time.” You tease. He puts his hand on his heart dramatically and pretends to be hurt. He wrapped his arms around you playfully as he fake sniffled. 

“I thought you loved me!” He yells and catches the attention of the other students. You didn’t pay much attention to them because being friends with Soonyoung comes with the attention that he gets. 

 He’s loud to say the least. Not to mention a little heart throb to all the hormonal preteens. 

“I do love you.” He grins and hops off of you and begins to dig into his lunch.  As he’s turned away you couldn’t help yourself but be giddy. It’s true, you do love Soonyoung...well love but not love- love. Not yet at least. But you definitely did like-like him. He’s your best friend so you thought that he really wouldn’t like you back. Not to mention with all the attention he gets from other girls you decided it would be best to be friends. 

But When you realized you had a crush on soonyoung, you never looked at him the same. 

And when you both sat through sex Ed that day…

“Oh my god…” you both say I’m unison after watching the very in depth documentary on puberty.When you found out where babies come from. You were scarred enough to not even want to look at Soonyoung for a few weeks. 

-

High school came along and this was the time when everything really changed.

Well, only because during this time is when you knew you love-loved Soonyoung. Still, you both were close and even added a few new friends to your bunch. Jun,Chan and Minghao are a few guys that wiggled into your close circle. Soonyoung met Jun and Minghao in dance class his freshman year and Chan a year later when he entered high school. They were like brothers ever since. And they definitely knew about your giant crush on Soonyoung. 

“I swear she was like the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen! It’s like every girl is nothing but a sack of potatoes compared to her. ” Jun says excitedly with a bite of his sandwich still in his mouth, causing chunks of food to fly towards the other Chinese boy. Minghao blocks his face with his hand and nudges his friend harshly, glancing over to you. Jun clears his throat. “Except for ___ of course!” He explains and swallows his food,you just roll your eyes and continue to eat your slice of pizza.

“But we met at a party last night and to say we hit it off is an understatement.” He wiggles his eyebrows at the rest of the group. 

“Really? She slept with you? No way.” Chan argues as he takes a bite of his apple. 

“I swear! And when I say she has a nice-“

“Ok ok no need to go into details.” You cut him off. Minghao just huffs at your response. 

“Really? You can’t handle this? Your best friend has the highest sex drive in the entire school.” Minghao states while shoving a napkin towards Jun’s face. He’s right, this kind of talk was normal between guys and you just so happen to be the only girl here. But Soonyoung has no shame whatsoever when I comes to talking about sex.

“Hey, we cant talk about that in front of her. She probably can stand the fact that the love her life sleeps around like it’s his job.” Jun says and results in another nudge from Minghao. “Hey you brought it up first!” Jun hisses at Minghao. 

“I get your concern boys but Soonyoung can do whatever he wants. If he wants to sleep around then that’s something I have to deal with in a one sided love story. Plus, I’m his best friend, I have to handle it.” You sulk a little. The boys catch on and comfort you.

“Listen. He might be a horn dog but he still has never been in a relationship. Those girls mean nothing to him.” Chan wraps his arm around my shoulder and rubs the side of my arms.

“Ya, all those girls have is being hot. You’re nothing like that” Jun blurts and it results in you and the two others looking up at him with furrowed brows. He’s quick to put his hands up. “I mean you are hot! Wait I mean pretty? You're just not their kind of hot. You’re one of the guys-“

“Shut up.” Minghao now has his palm slapped on to Jun’s mouth. “Ignore Jun. In Soonyoung’s defense,he only sleeps around with girls he doesn’t give a shit about. Those girls mean nothin.” Minghao says and jerks his hand away from Jun as jun licks his hand. “Sicko” he hisses. 

“It’s ok you guys, no need to put other girls down just because you guys have a bias towards me. Who knows, maybe they’re cool..” you suggest.

“Or Maybe he just takes a while to notice what he has in front of him. I mean, he doesn’t have a father figure around to teach him this stuff. His dad lives on the other side of the world from what we know. He needs to learn things himself.” Chan reassures. You just shrug and shovel in the salad you have on your tray. 

“I see what you’re saying and I really appreciate it. But it’s ok if he doesn’t like me. I’m still his best friend and always be around. Just as long as I have him in my life I don’t care what we are.” The rest of the table is quiet and continues eating in silence until a loud slap on the table is heard. You flinch your head up and see the devil himself, Soonyoung. 

“Sorry I’m late guys. I had a dentist appointment and just barely got to school for the rest of the day. I had a test I couldn’t miss.Hope you didn’t miss me too much.” He says and pinches your cheek. While he’s doing that you notice his long sweater sleeve glide down his arm a bit. Smeared black lines run up the rest of his arm. Before you could ask about it, Jun goes on to tell his story about the girl he met at the party. while he tells the story again you notice that a Smokey scent emerges. 

“Do you guys smell that?” You ask, cutting off Jun. 

“Smell what?” Soonyoung says warily. 

“It smells like something burnt, like ash or something.” You state and sniff around some more. Even sniffing Chan’s shirt. You were about to sniff Soonyoung but he shot up from his seat before you could get a whiff. 

“I mean we are in the lunchroom. They probably burnt something in the kitchen. But I’m gonna go get a soda, I’ll be back.” He rushes. Thinking that he was acting weird, you chose to go check on him.

Soonyoung rushes to the vending machine outside of the cafeteria. He lifts up the neck of his shirt and gives a good sniff. He goes to lift up his arms to smell his armpits but you come out from the side of the vending machine taking him by surprise in his mid sniff.

“What are you doing?” You ask and he pretends to stretch his limbs.

“Stretching. Sitting in the dentist chair did a number on my back. You seem a little tense, maybe you should do it too.” He tries evade but you see right through him unfortunately. Lifting up his sweater you see something you didn’t really expect. 

Black ink runs up all the way up to his shoulders. Symbols and pictures drawn all over his arms, a lot of them smeared away. Some parts of his arms were covered in black powder, almost like charcoal. 

“Have a little art project?” You ask suspiciously and let his shirt fall down. “What is this.” You question pointing to his arm. 

“It’s nothing really. Just like you said, an art project I did for fun when I was bored last night.” He says a little unnerved. “Nothing to hide.”

“Then why were you hiding it? You didn’t even think to shower?” Soonyoung seems a little stumped at the questions. So you decide to back down at his discomfort. “Never mind. I should expect weird stuff from you. Never a dull day with my Soonyoung.” You tease and walk away from the scene. 

Soonyoung lets out a harsh breath and pulls out his dollar before putting it into the vending machine. Looking up at your figure walking away he smiles to himself. 

“My Soonyoung?” He whispers to himself gently. “I think I like the sound of that.”

You unfortunately decided to let his strange behavior go that day, and you soon regretted it. 

Ever since that day you haven’t seen Soonyoung. It’s been two weeks and not a word from him. No phone call, no texts, not even an email. It’s like he jumped off the face of the earth. Even the boys couldn’t get any word from him. You started getting worried because this had been the longest you have gone without seeing him. Not to mention you don’t know if he’s ok or not. 

Something just felt wrong.

“I’m going crazy.” You say and grip your hair harshly. Letting the frustration take over. 

“We get it. This is the longest you’ve gone without your boyfriend.” Minghao sasses slightly and scrolls through his messages just in case any message would appear. You almost react to his sass but you just sit back on the bench.Since you guys have been so worried you all decided to head out to the park to ease our minds. But it’s been everything but easy. You couldn’t blame Minghao for being harsh because he was going through the same thing. You were all scared. 

“Im sorry,but I can’t really help but feel this horrible feeling, Hao.” He just pushed his head back and slouched on the park bench.

“Join the club sister. We all have a bad feeling. I mean we all haven’t heard from him in weeks. You think this could feel anything other than bad?” He growls. You decide to not say anything back in consideration of how he’s feeling. You knew he didn’t mean to bite like that. 

The two other boys walked back from the convenient store that was a short distance away, and heard what Minghao had said. 

“Easy Minghao. We’re all anxious but let’s not take it out on each other. ___ has a right to speak about how she feels, I mean, she has known Soonyoung the longest.” Chan hands you a Popsicle and sits next to you and Minghao. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I know you're worried, I shouldn’t have been rude.” Minghao apologies and brings you into a side hug. You let your head rest on his shoulder as he rugs the side of your shoulder. 

“It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean it. All we can do now is try our best in this situation.” You say and hug minghao tighter. 

“Well, there’s not much we can do. We’ve gone to his house everyday but no answer every time. Not even his mom answered. We call and message him every hour of the day and nothing. It’s like they dropped off the face of the earth.” Jun plops down on the sidewalk in front of the bench. 

“Do you think he moved?” 

“No way. He would have told us. Unless...”

“That could explain why he was acting so strange.”

You just sat and listened to the boys sit and squabble. You knew that something wasn’t right. He wouldn’t  hide like this, it’s not like him. 

“While you guys sit and argue, I’m going to go check his house again.” You gather your things and stand from the bench. Giving Chan the half eaten Popsicle. 

“Wait what? It’s getting late.” Chan says. “We know you’re worried. We all are. But maybe you should just go home and rest, it’s been stressful for you.” He argues.

“I just… I just want to check again. I have to. I care about him too much to just rest, it’s worth a shot.” The boys kept trying to get you home but you were persistent.

“Chan is right. It’s getting late. Let us walk you home.” Jun offers again but they all know it’s no use. 

“Love you guys. I’ll see you later.” Those words were your goodbye as you walked towards Soonyoung’s house. Leaving the boys as they shook their heads.

The Kwon’s house was an easy house to remember. The house sat at a crossroads with no other houses around it. No one really built any houses there because of the tales of old crossroads and their associations with demons and such. There were many stories of deals being made at that very crossroad. Even a story about a woman who fell in love with a demon there. You never really believed in stuff like that anyway. Soonyoung would often tell you those crazy stories and you just chose to listen. 

As you got closer to the house a chill ran up your spine. A chill strong enough to go from your head straight to your toes. Although, you never thought to be scared of his house before, today seemed a little more ominous. Various street lights towards your friends house flickered and even went out completely as you made your way down the street. The wind felt especially strong as it felt like it was almost pushing you in the opposite direction. 

Determined to find your best friend, you went against your gut.

Finally, you made it to Soonyoung's house. The wood flooring on his doorstep creaked way more than usual. The porch light was on but no bugs surrounded it and the porch light barely lit the area with a faded yellow light. Almost hesitant, I knocked on the door, no answer. You knock one more time, still no answer. 

“Soonyoung. It’s me ___. I came to check on you… we’re worried. Me and the boys. We’re all worried and I just thought it wasn’t like you to just leave. Please…” I rest my forehead on his front door.

“I just really want to see you.”

Then it was like the temperature in your body shot down to zero degrees. The shiver up your spine was almost painful as the hairs on the back of your  neck rise. Your heart nearly drops as the porch light shatters into a million pieces. Bringing the front door to complete darkness. You turn around to see that all of the lights in the neighborhood flicker off, all except one. The one street light only lights up the crossroad in front of his house. you rest your back against his door and try to calm your breathing. 

The door your resting on starts to open slowly with an ear splitting creak. Opening the door to a black hole of an entrance. Thinking this was too creepy to stick around you go to rush home but something grabs onto your wrist. A large hand holds firmly on your arm. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” They whisper and drag you into the house. Feet skidding on the smooth hard floor as you try to scream but nothing comes out. Your throat felt dry and your body felt ice cold. You couldn’t see anything but pitch darkness. But soon candle light comes to you when you’re thrown on the floor. The floor from what you assumed is the living room was lit by multiple candles in a circle. The candles surrounded a giant drawing carved into the hardwood flooring. The symbols resemble some of the symbols on Soonyoung’s arm you saw before. 

“I can sense a very innocent energy from you.” The voice from earlier surrounds the room. Stepping out from the darkness is a tall figure. His robe is long and dragged on the floor as he walked. He steps into the circle but not with feet but with hooves of a goat. Raising his arms, the baggy fabric of his robe falls down his forearms, exposing the scales running up his arms to his hands. His face is covered by a hood but sticking out are two long horns covered in rings of gold. “A good virgin energy.” He praises. 

“W-what?” And like a ghost, he’s in front of you before you could blink. Kneeling down to where you are on the floor. 

“My son. My offspring has brought me the final step of becoming what he truly is. He was hesitant at first but now since you’re here, in front of me, I know he’s ready.” He explains. 

“Where’s Soonyoung?” You ask hesitantly. The creature just gives a low chuckle.

“He’ll come. And when he does and finally makes his sacrifice, he’ll be the new king of the underworld like he's supposed to!” He chants. “After all these years of collecting virgin energy and gathering up enough power to be able to withstand the demon power, I will finally be able to spend time with my love.”The demon declared, and It’s like all the air was taken out of your lungs.

Soonyoung. Your Soonyoung. Some kind of demon prince? He would never do this to you, would he? All these years, were they nothing but a trick to use you someday? No. This can’t be true. 

“This can’t be true…” the tears run down your cheeks as his father's hands rests on your face gently.

“It’ll be over soon.” He says gently and gets up to walk in the center of the circle.

“I summon you, my son.” He puts his hands together and the carving lights up a bright red. Gusts of wind push out from the floorboards and blow out the candles around. “Come to me…” he chants in this demonic language as the light grows brighter and brighter. The wind is strong enough to lift the creature's robes and your hair to fly up. Loud booms sound across the room like thunder as the furniture moves with the current from the wind.

A cloud of black smoke rises from the symbols and gathers up In the middle. A twirl of black slowly taking form, making the shape of a body. Red lines and symbols traced up the figure, they shined as bright as the floor. Soon, the smoke disappears and what’s left is the boy you knew.

Soonyoung stands in the middle of the circle in front of his father. “Why did you call?” His voice was deep and Demonic. Almost like it was put through a voice modifier. He’s wearing something similar to his father and like him, he has the long horns sticking through his hair. 

“You have proved to me that you are ready my son.” His father states proudly. “The virgin has been offered.” Soonyoung looks behind him. You nearly passed out as his pitch black eyes landed on you. Soonyoung’s heart stops.

“___?” He whispered surprised. Taking a step towards you, he nearly stumbles. You push yourself back in response. This wasn’t what he wanted, this was what he was trying to hide this whole time. Turning back towards his father he steps away from the circle. 

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not going through with your stupid ritual. I couldn't care less about taking over the throne. She isn’t the virgin sacrifice, she’s my friend!” Soonyoung hisses. You glance up at him, relieved at what you just heard.

“Friend?” His father questions. But when he’s about to say something the light to the living room turns on. Soonyoung’s mother by the light switch in her bathrobe looks at the scene before her.

“Honey? What’s going on here?” She questions the demon and runs over to you. “___, I’m so sorry this happened! Please come sit down, let me get you some water.” She rambles. You did nothing but nod and accept the help from Soonyoung and his mother at the table. 

“___? Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” The demon says joyfully. You're surprised at the change of demeanor. “I’m sorry. I’m nothing without my glasses.” he explains while taking off his hood to reveal a human-like face. With the exception of scales in certain patches of his face and the horns. He had Hints of Soonyoung indeed. 

“Here, my love” Soonyoung's mother hands him his glasses. He looks in your direction, his serpent like pupils focus on you. 

“Oh well, would you look at that. You really are ___. My apologies.” He apologizes with a short bow. Heading over to his wife he takes a seat at the table and props his hooves up. You couldn’t make out words, just strings of mumbles. A ding from across the kitchen makes you flinch. Soonyoung’s father gleefully got up and towards the oven. “Well would you look at that! My Blood butter cookies are done.” He bubbles and pulls out the tray with his bare hands. You couldn’t comprehend this situation even if you tried. 

“Ughh…” you try to speak but nothing.A pair of hands rest On your shoulders. Soonyoung grabs your attention.

“Come with me upstairs. We’ll talk in my room.” You just go along with it and head upstairs with Soonyoung and away from what you hope Is a fever dream. 

You enter his room, it looks like a normal and definitely not like a hell hole.

 He gently closes the door behind you. “I know you have a lot of questions.” He starts, petting the horn on his head nervously. “I’m sorry about my dad… I told him I wouldn’t sacrifice a virgin any time soon, so I guess he jumped to conclusions when he saw you.” He tried to explain. But you stand there as you try to comprehend but all that’s in your brain is white noise.

“I’m sorry I left… I just didn’t know how to deal with this whole thing. My father just shows up out of nowhere expecting me to become this prince of the underworld. I didn’t know how to break it to you that I’m a half demon spawn of the underworld. I thought you would think I’m some kind of weirdo-“

“That’s why you didn’t tell me?” You bring up. It catches him by surprise. 

“Huh?”

“You didn’t tell me because you thought I would think you're weird?” You say dumbfounded.

“Ya, why else?”

“I dunno, from all the movies I’ve seen, it’s because demons are this dangerous thing, then people go out of their way to protect people from demons.” You try to explain but he just looks confused.

“Protect you? Why? I would never hurt you nor did I think I would. The underworld isn’t that crazy. I mean did you see my dad? He isn’t really the most fearsome creature. And he needs new prescription glasses.”  

“He was telling me you need a sacrifice, Soonyoung!” 

“Well I didn’t say all of the underworld wasn’t that crazy. Plus, did you really think I would sacrifice you? You’re my best friend.” Your shoulders slouch a bit. Feeling bad about your accusations and thoughts about him. Of course he wouldn’t. 

Soonyoung notices your change in demeanor and pats the bed, signaling for you to sit down next to him. You plop yourself on his bed. “ I’m sorry. I was just surprised. I didn’t mean to think of you that way.”

“Hey. I don’t blame you. You're doing pretty well for someone who thought they were gonna be a virgin sacrifice to a demon king.” He laughs and brings you into a side hug. 

“The visual effects didn’t seem to help either. You emerging from the ground was a sight to see. Must be from all the virgin energy you’ve gathered.” You tease lightly and a blush makes its way into his pale face. 

“Thanks? I’ve been practicing my summoning, I was playing video games when he called me..” he explains  “And He Had to tell you about virgin energy?” He sighs. 

“Well I didn’t fuck anybody for energy, that’s for sure. I just so happen to gain energy from virgins. It’s a weird demon thing.” He mumbles at the end even having pink tint on his cheeks. “But there’s no need to talk about that..”

“Why you so shy to talk about sex now? Didn’t have a problem before.” You state blatantly. He seems to have caught it because he looks at you Nervously.

“You ok? If I offended you, I’m sorry. Who cares if you’re a virgin-“

“It’s not that..” You say with slight frustration. “It’s the fact that you sleep… with girls.” You struggle to get the last part out. 

“Would you rather I slept with women?” He asks, even more confused than he was before. “ I mean, it’s a little illegal since we’re still in high school-“

“No! That’s not what I meant!” You groan and flop the rest of your body on the bed. “That’s not what I meant…” Soonyoung gently lays down beside you. 

“What do you mean? Tell me.” He takes your hand into his. Red markings cover every finger. 

“I… I “ 

“You what?” He pushes.

“I...like you, Soonyoung. I like you a lot. No, I’ve been in love with you for years. And I’ve always been afraid to tell you-“ you’re sentence is cut off by Soonyoung's lips on yours. Your eyes widen but you kiss back anyway. Fluttering your eyes closed at what felt like pure bliss. He ends the kiss and pushes your hair out of your face.

“And why would you ever be afraid to tell me that?” He smirks. “ I fell in love with you the moment I saw you on the playground being a sad lonely person.” He confesses. 

“ I just thought because you never showed any signs of liking me. And you had all these beautiful girls to be with and I was just the friend…” 

“Never showed any signs?” He Scoffs. “How about wanting to be with you everyday?Wanting to have you talk to me? Wanting to have you be a part of my life forever? Are those not signs?” He asks. 

“I’m sorry I never noticed…” you say shyly with a slight smile of embarrassment. He just playfully nods and brings me close. 

“Also, all those girls. Sure, I fucked around. But I’ve never wanted a relationship with any of those people, and ya, they were pretty. But they weren’t you. That’s because you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve laid my eyes on, and I mean to sound cheesy.” You couldn't help but throw yourself on top of your best friend. Landing in his stomach he lets out a small “oof”. 

“Although cheesy, I love it.” You confess. 

“You wanna be my girlfriend? I promise you won’t regret it.” He tried to persuade but you just pretend to think for a bit before answering.

“Fine, since you asked-“ 

“Great! Now that you’re my girlfriend, you wanna make out?” He eagerly brings your face closer to his. You just chuckle and brush your hands through his hair slowly.

“ How about after I formally meet your dad. I don’t think we got off on the right foot- or hoof, earlier.” You say shyly. Soonyoung gets off the bed and pulls you up.

“Ya, the hooves are a shocker to everyone. I guess my mom likes them freaky. But luckily you don’t have to worry about hooves. Only the horns, but you probably dig them anyway- ouch!” He rubs his shoulder after a rough smack from you. 

“Maybe a little.” You giggle. “But that was for leaving me for two weeks.” Soonyoung feels guilty but you send away that feeling with a quick kiss. “And that was for being with me for this long. I love you, Soonyoung.” You confess again. 

“No, thank you for being in my life and accepting me. I love you too.”

“Good, now let's go try those cookies.”

-

Things did get better after that. Soonyoung officially introduced you to his father, he’s a very nice demon when he’s not trying to have you as a human sacrifice. Though he is bummed that he’ll have to stay in the underworld for a little longer until someone could take his place as king. But luckily Soonyoung’s mom finally agreed to going down with her husband finally now that their son is 18. 

Soonyoung decided to finally go back to school after he learned to hide his horns and markings. So he graduated with you and the rest of the boys. Except Chan who’s a year younger.

Let’s just say the graduation party with the 5 of you ended with Soonyoung getting drunk enough to where he exposed himself to the rest of the group.

Welp, nothing else to hide.

But as the year went on, you decided to stay and study in your home town. While Soonyoung and the rest of the boys decided to open a dance studio, called Dancing with Demons. Which would become the best in the city. If only people knew they were dancing with an actual demon. Still a cute name though.

Now that you’ve graduated and have a path, you decided to move in together for college,Along with the three other boys, thinking that it was better for your college budgets. You spent even more time with your best friends and the love of your life. 

And the rest is history

—————

“And the rest is history…” you whisper to yourself as you look over at your now sleeping husband of 3 years, 5 years in overall relationship. Sleeping on his stomach and his arms under the pillow propping his face up slightly. His big horns prevent him from sleeping on his side comfortably. 

Often you would wake up in the mornings just to think about what happened 5 years ago. You would just sit and remember all the beautiful moments that lead to this. This perfect person who you plan to spend your whole life with. 

“What are you thinking about?” A soft voice takes you by surprise. Your husband pats the spot next him, you scoot closer to his side and run your hand down his back. The red marking showing perfectly due to him not wearing a shirt.

“Just thinking about how I was able to get a life like this.” Soonyoung pops his head up. 

“Well it only took a whole childhood and a false virgin sacrifice…” he states blatantly. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I still got you in the end anyway.” He kisses the side of your head. 

“Well at least I don’t have to deal with the potential of being a virgin sacrifice anymore.” You laugh. Soonyoung rests his chin on his arms and gives a low hum.

“Ya, got that situated only a few months after we got together. Now you just have to deal with the thought of having a demon baby.” He says smugly. “Which if you asked, I wouldn’t have any hesitation of giving you one.” He winks. You just slap his chest gently and rise to get out of bed.

“Five years and you think you're ready to have my baby, huh?” You tease as you step out of bed and ease your way out of your pajamas. You couldn’t even get your top off before you’re squished between the wall and the demon. Your front is pressed on to the cold wall as Soonyoung’s warm chest pushes on your back. Craning his head between your neck he kisses slowly on your skin. 

“Excited isn’t enough to describe, baby. If you give me the green light I would gladly give you a baby,right here, right now.” He whispers as he lifts his head to press a kiss to the side of your head. “You know how much I love you. But if you forgot then I can spend all morning showing you how much I would want to start a family with you. Hell, I could spend days showing you how much I love you.” At this point he knows he had you almost convinced to let him have you, but as much as you love the thought of entering the baby making factory, there are other plans to attend to. 

You grip his hands gently as you peel them off your body they were just roaming. Having the most effort to remove the one on your butt. “As much as I would love to let you give me a family, we have plans today. We have lunch with your parents in the underworld today…” Soonyoung groans and practically throws himself back in the bed. Having a child-like tantrum as he huffed and puffed. 

“Are you kidding me. Cock blocked by my own parents. Don’t they know I’m a busy demon?” He complains as he gets up and strips his clothing with a pout. “And for what reason? Because my dad made his famous demon lasagna?!” He blurts and grabs his towel, almost stomping towards the shower. You just laugh to yourself and shortly join him in the shower. 

Stepping onto the steaming water, you hug his back tightly as he lets the water fall on his head. He turns around only to press you against his chest, pulling you closer so the water runs down both of your bodies. Though showering together seemed like a sexy scenario, you showered together often, sexy or not. You found it a relaxing time to spend together. 

Soonyoung gently grabs your chin, bringing your lips to his. The kiss is soft, no urgency. As you both part your husband peers down at you with a loving gaze. Taking the shampoo you begin to wash his hair, going around his long horns as you do so. Soonyoung hums softly at your touch. 

“You’re not mad at me are you?” You ask teasingly. The demon pouts and leans into your touch. Rinsing out his hair you let him scrub your hair and let him wash your back to his request. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. You still choosing my dad's underworld lasagna over me Making love to you all day, and a whole bunch of cuddles and kisses?” You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, he joins along and rinses you both off. Ending the shower, he wraps you up in a towel before him. As he’s drying your hair with a towel, you take this as a chance to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. 

“How about a deal?” You waver. This catches the demon's attention. 

“You’re making a deal with a demon? Aren’t you ballsy.” He smirks. “What are you offering?” He asks. You take a moment to look like you’re pondering. 

“I was just suggesting that if you make it through a whole day of being with your parents, then I would reward you.” You slide your hands up his torso, making sure to travel along his markings, making your arms wrap around his neck at the end.

“Keep talking.”  With that, You just realized that you have this demon of the underworld wrapped around your finger. 

“If you make it through today without complaining and have a good time, then I’ll let you do whatever you want with me. Maybe even try for a baby-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence before you’re pushed roughly against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips as he kisses you passionately. Gripping your face roughly as he kisses you. You grip his hair and his horns roughly as his kisses don’t let up. After what seems like forever, he finally lets you go. Your feet come back to the wet floor but he still holds you. Having a sinister smile etched into his face. 

“You seal a deal with a kiss baby. Thanks for doing business.” He plants one more kiss on your lips and walks out the bathroom as if nothing happened. You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed being left alone after that, but you know he was ready to give you what you wanted in due time. But for now, you can’t just think about how you couldn’t stop falling more in love with this man. Just thinking about a family with him makes you almost teary eyed. You didn’t want a family with anyone else. You’re set for life with Soonyoung. 

“___! Hurry up! My parents are just getting older. We can’t keep them waiting. Or take your time, because I found a site of baby names that I can comfortably read as you get ready!” He beams from the other room. 

Yup, you fell in love with a demon from the underworld. 

But, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A/N - Hope you enjoyed!

Asitia

Connie Springer. Springles. Canonverse. 

2525 words. 

Buy me a ko-fi! or Read on AO3 :)

The sense of hunger goes first. The first night Connie eats, but he hardly pays attention to the food that enters his mouth. Military food has never been appetizing, but tonight it’s especially tasteless. There’s nothing different about it from previous meals - lumpy potatoes with gravy, chicken that’s too dry to swallow without a glass of water nearby, and carrots that have been steamed so long they’ve turned into mush - but Connie can barely stomach any of it. It’s selfish to think that he’s the only one that’s feeling this way. Everyone at his table - Mikasa, Armin, Jean - is mindlessly shoveling food into their mouths if only because they need to keep their strength up. Their portion sizes are a little bigger tonight. It’s in part to celebrate their return home from Liberio, but it’s also because there are fewer soldiers today than there were yesterday. As Connie picks at his food, he lifts his eyes to look up at the empty space at the table where his friend should be sitting. His stomach has been empty for hours, begging him to fill it with whatever food he can, but Connie can’t stand the thought of eating anything now that Sasha isn’t there beside him. 

Connie nibbles at a little piece of chicken, wondering why it tastes the same as the potatoes, the gravy, and the vegetables. The textures are different, but in the end, it all tastes like a strange gray paste. Connie can’t even call it food. If Sasha were here, would she say the same thing? But if she were here, the food would taste different, Connie thinks. 

“Hey.” A hand touches Connie on the back and rubs light circles between his shoulder blades. When Connie looks over, he sees Jean with his half-eaten tray of food. How did he manage to eat that much? “I know it’s hard … but you need to eat, Connie.” 

Connie nods numbly, aware of the concerned eyes that watch him. “I know,” he says, but his fork still sits idly in his hand. Nothing about the food in front of him looks edible. The colors are too dull and the shine of the chicken skin - Sasha’s favorite part of the bird, Connie remembers - is strange and rubbery. It doesn’t even smell like food, Connie thinks. Food that doesn’t taste, doesn’t smell, doesn’t look like food doesn’t deserve to be called food. 

There’s another hand, this time on Connie’s shoulder. “Don’t force yourself,” Mikasa says, her voice gentle. “Just eat as much as you can.” 

He swallows as he looks at the tray in front of him, its contents almost entirely untouched. “I know,” he manages to say, but he knows he won’t eat another bite. 

The rest of the night Connie spends pushing his food around with his fork, hoping that he’ll grow hungry by some miracle and wolf the entire meal down. That miracle never comes and he’s left listening to the sound of his remaining friends chewing their food in silence, all trying to get through this meal the best that they can. He thinks of discarding his food, but throwing it away feels like a waste so he ends up offering it to a group of soldiers that are celebrating Paradis’ victory because they’re too young to realize what they’ve lost in the process. He feels relieved when the food is out of his sight, believing that he won’t have to think about eating just as long as food isn’t sitting in front of him any longer. 

That night his stomach feels like a cavity in his torso, ravenous and needing to be filled. Connie lies awake in bed, listening to the growling in his stomach. He feels the gnawing in his belly, his stomach desperate for any form of sustenance, but Connie feels no need to satisfy it. He goes to sleep completely empty. 

The rest of his senses follow in the days after. After the first night, the world loses its color. Connie sees the world in muted colors - the world is no longer bright and vibrant and beautiful. It’s painted in sepia tones as if someone had taken a photograph and let it age in the sun. Connie thinks that maybe it’s the lighting in the airship that somehow made him see the world in monochrome, but he walks up to the window and looks out into the ocean. The first time he had seen it, it was a glittering sapphire blue. Today it’s black like velvet. For a brief moment Connie wonders if it’s the weather, but he looks up at the sepia sky and there’s hardly a cloud. There’s just the sun, the only white in this landscape of dull tones, and Connie thinks it’s strange that it doesn’t hurt when he stares straight into it. 

He should probably tell someone about it, he thinks, but what’s the point? Connie finds that the world isn’t so bad in black and white. It’s probably better this way. There’s no point in seeing the world in color, not when Sasha isn’t here. 

Connie goes to bed early that day even though he had only been awake for an hour. He tells Jean not to worry about him. He’s just tired after yesterday. After all, who wouldn’t be after everything they’ve just been through? He just needs to recover, Connie assures his friends whenever they come to check up on him. He doesn’t tell them that he can’t eat even as his stomach is eating away at him and he fails to mention that he can no longer differentiate between colors because the world has turned into a black and white painting. He doesn’t tell them that he can’t stop thinking about Sasha. He’s sure they already know already anyway. 

The next few days, Connie loses his sense of feeling. He doesn’t notice when his friends touch him, only aware of them when he’s seemingly dragged out of bed by some invisible force. He’s lifted up gently, then shaken hard when he doesn’t respond. Connie’s eyes flutter open and he sees Mikasa shaking him, shouting something. He wonders why her voice is muted, barely audible as if she’s speaking underwater. It might be a product of just waking up, he thinks, but his hearing is the same after he’s sat up and up. Everyone’s voice is like that, Connie realizes, as he watches his friends surround him, their mouths flapping open and shut silently like fish. He looks at them numbly, not registering any of their words. He only understands what they’re saying when they pull him out of bed, pointing at the window and showing him that they’ve finally landed. 

He follows them out of the airship, not bothering to change out of the soldier’s uniform that he’s been wearing for days. As soon as they step out, his friends raise their hands to block the blinding sun from their eyes, but Connie hardly notices it. Beyond them stand the people of Paradis, cheering for them loudly as the soldiers descend from the airship, but all Connie hears is muffled applause. His friends around him put on fake smiles as they welcome the applause, but all Connie can think of are the caskets that are being carried out behind him. He thinks of one casket in particular, the one that holds the friend that should be standing beside him. He hangs his head and walks wordlessly past the crowd. 

The following days are shrouded in black - black skies, black thoughts, black dreams. He goes to Sasha’s funeral a few days after the ship lands. It’s jarring to see everyone dressed in black and surrounded by all of Sasha’s favorite wildflowers. If she were here, she would probably laugh at them, asking them why their faces are so glum when there are so many beautiful things surrounding them, and she’d convince Connie to run away with her so they could steal a plate of appetizers and eat it under the table. But the only reason that they’re gathered together like this is that Sasha’s not here and there’s no escaping that fact now that he’s seen her lifeless body in its casket. 

Everybody is crying as Sasha’s casket is lowered into the ground. Everyone except Connie, that is. He doesn’t think he can shed a single tear because the person in the coffin isn’t Sasha. Sasha was never that lifeless. He had seen her leave himself - too soon to stop the gun but quick enough to see the bullet fatally pierce through her ribs and lodge its way into her heart. Her blood ran from her side, staining the floor and draining her of any color. That was the last time he ever saw Sasha. This body in front of him is only a pale imitation of everything Sasha once was. 

He watches as dirt is poured onto the wooden casket, black on black. His friends wail and Sasha’s family members - her parents and her adopted siblings - try to rush towards the casket but are held back by other attendees. Only Connie is quiet, unaffected, a silent observer. Even after the burial is over and the procession has dispersed, Connie remains at Sasha’s grave. He stays there long after the sun has gone down and night has fallen. He would have stayed longer if Jean hadn’t dragged him away. 

Jean takes him to the feast being held at the castle tonight. It’s supposed to celebrate Paradis’ recent victory, but Connie finds it insensitive considering everything that has happened. If he weren’t friends with Historia, he would have skipped the dinner entirely. It would have been more appropriate to hold this dinner at a different time - any day that wasn’t today, really - but he doesn’t know Historia’s schedule. Maybe she has other things on her calendar. 

By the time Connie arrives, soldiers and noblemen are already on their second plate. He takes a seat beside Armin while Jean goes to fix him a plate of dinner - a slab of roast pork, hearty soup with rich beef broth and chunks of carrots and potatoes, leafy green salad decorated with cherry red tomatoes and sweet onions and finished with a creamy sauce, and the heel of a golden baguette with a soft, white crumb. A week ago, the sight of such rich food would have made Connie salivate. Seeing it now makes Connie’s stomach churn and he can’t imagine eating even the smallest bite. Everyone around him seems to have no trouble eating, scarfing it down as if it’s their last meal. It disgusts him. 

He picks up his fork and idly pushes his food around his plate, ignoring the chatter of the people beside him. The more he plays with his food, the less it looks like food. The beef begins to look like the lettuce begins to look like the bread begins to look like the soup and they all begin to look like a shapeless mass on his plate. Connie’s stomach growls, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything in almost a week, but he doesn’t feel hungry at all. 

Connie looks up when a finger taps on the rim of his plate. It’s Mikasa, her expression making it hard for Connie to tell if she’s mad at him or concerned. He thinks she’s about to say something, but she simply gestures for him to eat. Doesn’t she know that if he could eat, he would have done so by now? 

He looks down at his plate again, this time trying to decide which item he’ll be most likely to stomach without too much trouble. Connie decides that the bread is the most inoffensive, and he breaks off a piece of it. He can tell it’s fresh by how cleanly he can break it off and how warm it feels in his hand. He can’t remember the last time he’s had such freshly made bread, but he can’t find it in himself to be excited. Instead, he bites into it tentatively, expecting it to be tasteless just like all of the food before, but the taste on his tongue is so much worse. 

For a moment, it’s as if Connie has regained his senses if only for a moment. When the bread touches his tongue, he tastes the buttery crust and the light airy wheat of the crumb. He bites down, expecting the flavors to intensify and remind him that he once enjoyed eating. The bread crumbles on his tongue, turning to ash and leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. In his surprise, he swallows it down, but it burns as it goes down his throat. Connie clutches at his throat with one hand and grabs for a glass of water with the other. Hurriedly, he tips the glass towards his lips, not caring that water is running down his chin and onto his clothes. The glass falls from his hands and onto the floor, shattering. 

Connie bolts from the table and runs into the bathroom, his throat searing with pain. He kneels in front of the toilet. He clutches at his stomach, which demands for more food despite how badly the rest of Connie’s body rejects it. He tries to swallow - once, twice - in a useless attempt to keep the food down. The bile builds in his throat, bitter and vile, until he can no longer help it. Connie leans forward, retching. He’s hardly eaten anything, but his body still heaves violently even though all he has left to give up is air. 

The bitter taste is still left in his mouth even after he’s done, and Connie collapses on the ground against the cool tile of the bathroom floor. His stomach roars at him, demanding more food. Connie lets it rumble, knowing that any attempt at satiating it is futile. 

As Connie stares at the flickering lights on the ceiling, he becomes aware of the darkness that is swallowing up the room. It starts in the back corner, blending in so well with the black and white lens that Connie has grown accustomed to that he almost doesn’t notice. It’s only when it covers the entire wall that Connie begins to really pay attention. His eyes follow it as it slowly slides down the other walls and spills onto the floor, creeping up towards him. Even when he blinks, it doesn’t go away. By the time it reaches him, Connie has accepted the growing void. He watches as it eats away at him, ravenous like the feeling in his stomach. Slowly he disappears, his hands and feet go first followed by his arms and legs. The black slinks up his torso, up his belly and traveling up his chest. As he disappears, Connie finds that the gnawing sensation at the bottom of his stomach also disappears. The void slides up his neck, and gone is the memory of tonight’s dinner burning down Connie’s throat. It’s a relief, Connie finds, not feeling these things. It’s a relief not feeling anything at all, so he lays there in silence, his eyes closed as he lets the darkness consume him.

His Second Chance Part 10

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: A few mentions of ass (I don’t know why this became a thing but it did), fluff, language, self depricating thoughts.

Word count: Approx 2900

Masterlist

Bucky continues to build confidence while trusting the Reader with some doubts on his mind and his insecurities. Have a lovely weekend 💗💗💗

Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LISTS ARE OPEN! (Permanent list and His Second Chance list)

IF YOUR TAG ISN’T WORKING PLS MESSAGE OR ASK 💖💖

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“Excuse me, you never told me it ended up as a date!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his arms up dramatically. “Shh, shh, god do you wanna wake up the whole building?” Bucky hissed across the kitchen. The pair had taken to getting up early and spending time together before everyone else was up, though they still maintained their love hate relationship the rest of the day.

 “So you took my advice Barnes?” Sam asked before spooning some fruit salad into his mouth. “No, I mean, yeah I guess.” Bucky sighed. Don’t give him the damn satisfaction. “How did it go? Did you kiss her?” Sam jutted his spoon out, pointing at Bucky as he slurped on his too hot to drink coffee. Recoiling a bit from the heat of his drink, Bucky placed his mug down and shook his head quickly. “No, no kissing.” He blurted out. Oh how I wish we had though, jus’ wanna feel her soft lips against mine. “You mean you went on a date with one of the prettiest and sweetest girls in the damn tower and you didn’t kiss her?” Sam sounded almost offended. “Well,” Bucky shrugged, pausing for a moment. “Look, we’re takin’ it slow, man.” Bucky waved him off as he dipped his spoon into Sam’s large bowl of fruit salad. Sam frowned before reaching forwards and stealing some of Bucky’s cereal.

 “So are you going to ask her on another date?” Sam asked through a mouthful of cereal. “Your ma ever tell ya to never speak with your mouth full?” Bucky teased, quirking a brow. Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Quit avoiding my question Barnes.” He smirked, knowing full well Bucky desperately wanted to ask you out again. “You gonna take her out again?” He repeated his question before shovelling more fruit in his mouth. “Of course I am, she’s real pretty and cute and smart, really sweet, funny.” Bucky listed staring off into the distance and then looked back at Sam a little startled. You just said that out loud. You said that out fuckin’ loud. Well done. Sam stifled a chuckle as he swallowed down his fruit.

 “Who’s real pretty, Buck?” Steve asked, walking into the kitchen. “You know who he’s talking about.” Sam smirked, using his spoon to point at Bucky again. “I can hear you two from down the hall.” Steve gave them both a knowing smile before turning away to fix a protein shake before his morning sessions. Bucky’s cheeks burned bright red. God, what if she can hear this entire conversation? What must she think if she can? “So you gonna kiss her next time?” Sam kept going, glancing across at Steve for backup. “Yeah, Buck, I know you still got the forties in ya.” Steve grinned over his shoulder at Bucky as he spooned protein powder into a shake bottle. “It’ll happen when it happens.” Bucky sighed before trying his coffee again, taking a long sip from the now comfortably warm liquid. And not before. Wanna do this right with her, I need to do it right with her.

 “Tony was talking about getting you on a psychological assessment, by the way.” Steve changed the subject after a short pause in conversation. “Said if you pass it you can start training to get back in the field.” Steve went on. Oh, oh not sure I’m ready for that. What if I start training and I hurt someone with this stupid metal arm? What if I somehow go back into Winter Soldier mode? What if I hurt someone or kill someone? Oh god.

 “Buck?” Sam broke his train of thought, Bucky staring straight into his mug of black coffee. “Bucky?” Sam poked him with his spoon. “You alright, man?” He asked, glancing over at Steve who was vigorously shaking his protein shake bottle with far too much force and enthusiasm, scrunching up his face while he did it. “Yeah, I don’t know Steve.” Bucky shook his head. “Not sure my mind’s in the right place yet.” Bucky refused, sighing. “Alright pal, but you gotta do it at some point, just think about it, alright?” Steve clapped him on the shoulder before moving to leave the kitchen.

 A soft oof and then a thump caught Bucky’s attention and he tilted to the side to see you had collided with Steve on your way in. “Sorry sweetheart, didn’t see ya there, ran right into me.” Steve chuckled, kneeling down to give you a hand back onto your feet. “You alright?” He asked, cupping your head and brushing your hair away from your face. Why can’t I be that soft with her? I’m just… Awkward. “Yeah, sorry Stevie.” You apologised, giving him a quick hug before passing him and entering the kitchen.

 “Morning.” You smiled at both of the soldiers, squeezing Sam around the shoulders and pecking him lightly on the cheek before moving over to Bucky and settling into his side where you knew Bucky would allow you to stay and you could get extra close, leaning in and giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek, only your lips lingered longer than they did when you kissed the other two good morning. Ooh I could get used to that.

 “You alright? You just collided with a wall of Steve Rogers.” Sam chuckled, watching as you leaned into Bucky, his arm making its way around your shoulders. “I’m fine, not the first time it’s happened, Sammy.” You smile before moving away to get your breakfast ready. “Besides, I think Stevie thinks I’m super fragile now because he gave me a few days off training since the incident yesterday.” You flash a smile over your shoulder at the boys as you get a mug and put it in the machine. Not fragile, I think you’re bad- “Ass.” Bucky blurted out, immediately ducking his head and almost dipping his freshly washed hair into his coffee. Sam tried to contain his laughter while you looked at them both confused before twisting slightly to look at your butt. You were admittedly dressed in just a shirt and underwear, which you thought the boys were quite used to, especially since you were so easily open about this kind of thing. “Is there something wrong with my butt?” You asked so innocently, causing Sam to collapse further into laughter while Bucky’s cheeks burned bright red.

 wHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Oh my good fucking- look at her! Bending weirdly to look at her butt because she thinks you were talking ABOUT HER ASS YOU IDIOT. Bucky let out a strange strangled noise before downing his coffee. “Sorry doll, I wasn’t- um, I mean, it’s just that-.” Bucky stammered. “He thinks you have a nice ass.” Sam interrupted, grinning like the fucking devil at Bucky, who gave him a murderous stare. Oh my- Wilson! “No, well yeah, but- look I wasn’t, urgh.” Bucky dropped his face into his hand. Take me to fuckin’ hell already. “You like my butt?” You asked, seemingly unphased by Bucky’s flustered state. “Yes?” Bucky wasn’t even sure how to approach that and he avoided looking up from his hand all together. “I like it too.” You grinned, turning back to make your coffee. Bucky looked up from his hand at Sam and glanced at you. How is she so okay with me just… I’m so bad at this.

 Sam vacated the kitchen, having successfully messed with Bucky. “Doll, I’m real sorry about that.” Bucky sidles up next to you. You let out a breathy huff of a laugh and smile up at him. “I know Sam was messing with you.” You roll your eyes. “He does it so much with everyone that I know when he’s doing it now.” You leaned up against him. So that’s why she didn’t seem phased, smart girl. “But, please enlighten me, why did you just scream out ass?” You asked, amusement in your voice. “Actually, don’t tell me.” You winked. Oh she probably thinks I was staring at her butt or something oh no.

 “So uh.” Bucky cleared his throat. “Yesterday, with the café was nice.” Bucky watched as you poured some sugar into your drink. C’mon there’s more smooth ways of saying that. “Do you… Maybe wanna do that again?” Bucky almost face palmed. That’s not the way to fucking ask that question, try again. Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Would you like to go on a date with me, doll?” Bucky asked voice shaking a little from nerves, your big doe like eyes staring up at him, cheeks bulging a little as you smile widely. “I’d love to, Buck.” You grin, nodding your head quickly. Yes! Fuck yes! You did it properly this time. “What did you have in mind?” You question, stirring your drink. Uh didn’t think that far. Okay, no, don’t let her know that though, you got this. “I’ll take you out tomorrow night, seven o’clock, it’s a surprise, wear something…” Bucky paused for a bit too long and you giggled. “I’ll make sure I wear something, Buck.” You winked, giggling to yourself as you walked away with your coffee.

You just had to fuck it up at the end, didn’t you Barnes?

 “So, psychological assessment, huh?” You asked, walking alongside Bucky as he clutched the papers in his hand. “Mm, not sure how it’s gonna go.” Bucky sighed, obviously not too optimistic about his chances. “Hey, I think you’ll do fine, plus Pepper said if you don’t pass you can redo it in a few months.” You tried to reassure him. “I guess.” Bucky shrugged, glancing down at the papers he carried at his side. Tell her. Tell her, c’mon, she won’t judge you, you know she won’t. “Can I tell you something?” Bucky asked, looking around the hallway for any prying ears. “Always, Buck.” You smiled up at him, waiting for him to continue. At that moment Steve came around the corner, distracted by Nat as he chatted away to her. Don’t want them to hear, only (Y/n). Bucky rested his hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you backwards into a tiny utility closet. Oh this is very, very close.

 You were so close to Bucky that you could feel his breath fanning against your face and your hands naturally rested on his chest. Your cheeks flushed hot, breathing becoming a little uneven as your heart beat fast at his closeness, how intimate this felt. “What’s so important that you don’t want Steve and Nat to know?” You whispered. You tried to take a step back, but you tripped on something, Bucky’s metal arm immediately stopping you from falling as it wound around your waist. “I got you, doll.” He whispered. Oh this is so not where I planned on this going, fuck I just wanted to tell her something so innocent and here I am in a closet hiding from Steve like I’m about to- yep, okay keep it cool, your body is literally pressed against hers. Bucky took a deep breath as you looked into his slate blue eyes, waiting patiently with a sweet smile curving your lips.

 “I’m not sure I want to fight anymore.” Bucky murmured. “M’not sure I can do that anymore.” Bucky went on, shaking his head, loose brown strands of hair falling out from behind his ears into his face. “Not after the pain I- I’ve caused.” Bucky almost choked up and you took his face into your hands, your fingers brushing some of his hair back as your palms rubbed against his stubble. “Buck, you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to, but if you do fight with us, it won’t be the same. We don’t fight the innocent, you know that. No one here would ever use you to hurt people. You always have a say, a choice, a yes or no. Don’t like a mission? You can refuse it. You want out after a few months? You can say so and no one will judge you.” You whispered, trying to keep your voice as low as possible. “But if you stay and fight with us, you have a chance to help people.” You encouraged. Bucky looked at you with a fondness in his eyes.

 Maybe she’s right, it’s not the same. Maybe this is a way to redeem yourself, reclaim what was taken from you. Bucky smiled down at you, hands squeezing around your waist a little tighter before he slowly leaned towards you, skin against skin. Oh my god, what are you doing? Doesn’t matter, her skin is so soft holy shit. Bucky’s thick stubble tickled and scratched against your face with a delightful tingle and you hummed at the sensation. Hot breath against your tender skin as his lips found your cheek and though it was small and quick, the sentiment and sincerity was all there. Bucky’s lips were soft, perhaps a little dry and cracked in places, but still soft.

 You counted yourself lucky that you’d just received a sweet, gentle kiss on the cheek from Bucky, the man who always seemed too nervous and hesitant to initiate that sort of thing. A sense of pride filled you chest, pride for Bucky, that he’d been brave enough, not only to trust you with this information, but to kiss you as well. You just kissed her, Barnes! You’re getting better at this. Bucky pulled away, looking deeply into your eyes, his thumbs caressing your sides. “Thank you.” He whispered; the corners of his lips turned up into a smile. “Thank you, doll.” Bucky reaffirms before pulling you upright against his chest and turning to listen through the door behind him. I knew you could trust her; she always knows what to say.

 No sound of movement comes and Bucky opens the door, pulling you out of the closet with him. “Oh my god!” Sam practically shrieks. “What were you two doing in there?” He exclaimed, causing you to chuff out a laugh as he examined your flustered features. Oh no, no, no, fuck meee Barnes. You could totally see how it did look like you’d just been up to something, you were sure your hair was a little messy and your cheeks were likely burning up from being in a cramped, hot space right up against an extremely attractive super soldier. “See you later, Sergeant.” You winked at Bucky before leaving his side and continuing down the hallway. Not sure if that made it better or worse, but god, hearing her say Sergeant makes you weak, Barnes. Very, very weak. Bucky feels the pull on his jeans and he almost grunts at the effect you have on him before taking a deep breath and falling into step with Sam, who gave him a knowing smile.

 “Does it scare you?” Bucky asked, sitting down next to you on the sofa as you read a book. “Depends what we’re talkin’ about here, Buck.” You shrug, unsure what he’s referring to. “My arm, does it scare you?” Bucky asked, looking down at the appendage like it was offending him. “No, why would it?” You flick your gaze to Bucky quickly before turning your attention back to your book. “Well it’s just that-.” Bucky cut himself off, looking down at his metal hand. The image of blood seeping between the plates flashed across his mind and he could have sworn he saw blood oozing out of his arm at that moment. The snap of your book shutting pulled Bucky out of his mind and his eyes fixed on yours. You put your book down and shuffled across the sofa to be closer to him. “You want to know a secret?” You asked, reaching for his metal hand and grasping it gently in your own hands. Bucky nodded, intrigued. You sat up, tucking your legs underneath you as you sat up on your knees, giving you enough height to reach his ear.

 You leaned in; a tingly shiver rolled down Bucky’s spine when he felt your breath against his cheek. The way you so delicately held his metal hand like it was breakable, like you could hurt him if you moved the wrong way. Bucky almost blushed at the gentle, beautiful way you handled him, it made his heart soar and swell that you touched him with such care, with such a sweet nature, it was nothing like he used to experience. “What it was used for before doesn’t matter now. Your arm is beautiful, it’s part of you and all of you is handsome, all of you is wonderful.” You were almost shy to say the words, a little blush creeping onto your features as you said it but you knew Bucky needed to hear those words, hear something that might soften the way he looked at his arm.

 How can she think a monster is so handsome? I’m nothing but a monster. Bucky’s breathing hitched when you moved back slightly and your eyes met his. Your soft features, the way you looked at him. God he hadn’t seen a look like that in so long, adoration, love, even. But she doesn’t see the monster, she sees passed him, she sees you.

Bucky pulled you against him, your arms winding around his middle, a hand resting on his metal arm.

She sees you, Bucky Barnes.

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Permanent Tag List:

@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey @scuzmunkie @paintballkid711@lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette@scarlett-berserker @2407zzz@mercurybarnes @mywinterwolf@geeksareunique @fairislesheets @wendaiii @mochibarnes

His Second Chance Tag List:

@socialheartbreak @whatsupbucky @yesno18 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @crystallstaircase @megantje123 @fantua @lady-x-red@buckys-islandgirl @chipilerendi @butteryoptimisticpeanut@blondecity @dark-night-sky-99 @marvel-ous-bucky@rand0mfangurlstuff @tfandtws @vxidnik @books-baritones-bucky@bluerorjhan @calwitch @hello-keeley @vrgelivvvv @steve-harrington-said-gay-rights @swiftlymoniquesblog @viperslunatic @carol-twinklefists-danvers @stitchers-in-stitches @hungry-pasta

Lips of an Angel-Part 1

A/N: OC is in a polyamorous relationship with Seth, Dean, and Roman. When college life gives her a bad day, can her boys help make her feel a little better?

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 4]

[Part 5]

I tugged the hood of my sweatshirt up over my hair and sighed, wishing that I’d stayed in bed in my dorm. My head throbbed with an ache just behind my eyes, one that I knew would eventually end up as a full-blown migraine. If only the professor would show up, we could get on with this shitty day and I could finally go home.

           I sighed, my eyes sweeping the people filing in to the eight o’clock class. There was Naomi and her boyfriend Jimmy. Carmella and her best friend Ron, but who everyone called Truth for some reason. I lost track for a moment as an exceptionally painful throb shot through my eyes. By the time I was able to focus, the last few people were trickling in. Sweeping in just before the bell were the last three people that anyone would ever expect to be friends.

           Roman, the captain of the football team, Seth, the slightly nerdy emo kid who always had a coffee in one hand and an mp3 player in the other, and Dean, the sort of messed up guy who everyone was pretty sure got drunk before school and had probably been to jail at least once. No one could figure out why the three of them were friends, but it was impossible to find one without the other two.  

           And that was just how they liked it.

           Seth slipped into the seat across the aisle and sat the coffee in front of me. “Morning, sweets,” he said with a smile.

           I gave him a grateful grimace and wrapped my fingers around the cup, letting the warmth seep into my body. Now if only…

           Dean plopped into place in front of me, digging into the pocket of his leather jacket. A moment later, he dropped a travel pack of Aleve on the desk. His blue eyes twinkled, dimples popping as he grinned. “Morning, princess.”

           My reply was a weak nod as I tore into the packet, popping the two tablets into my mouth and swallowing them down with a gulp of coffee.

           Roman was a few rows away, talking with Jimmy, who was his cousin, and Baron Corbin, who was on the football team. After a minute, he hopped a desk and barely wedged himself into the seat behind me. His thick but nimble fingers dug into my shoulders, thumbs pressing firmly on the back of my neck. “Morning, baby girl.”

           I let out a little grunt of approval as some of the pain from the migraine slipped away. Between the coffee, the meds, and the perfect pressure of fingers on my neck, I might just make it out of my eight o’clock alive.

           “Morning, boys,” I mumbled just as our professor stepped up to the front of the room. There was a stack of papers in his hand.

           He waved them at us, something like a sick grin on his face. “Let’s start today off with a little pop quiz, shall we?”

           Half the class groaned in frustration. The other half sighed in resignation. Dr. Abbey’s pop quizzes were nearly as hard as his tests.

           Dean passed papers over his shoulder, grinning at me in his mischievous way. “Good thing we were up half the night studying.”

           Seth chuckled. “If that’s what you call studying.”

           The letters swam in front of my eyes. The caffeine was doing its best to wake me, but I knew it would be a while before the Aleve fully kicked in. And since Roman had his hands full taking the pop quiz, the soothing neck rub was long gone.

           If only I’d stayed in bed.

***

           By lunch break, I was starting to pick up speed. Eight o’clock classes were always hell—and history first thing in the morning was never fun. The nine o’clock wasn’t that bad, especially since Ms. Young, the grad student who taught English, liked to read poetry and novels out loud in class. She had a soothing voice. I’d almost fallen asleep with my head on Roman’s shoulder. Seth and Dean had a gap until eleven, so they tended to go do weight training in the gym, so I ended up at the same table wedged between the head of their trio and Baron. With the two of them, there was never a worry about getting cold in class that was for sure.

           My eleven o’clock was statistics. Forty-five minutes of going over p-values and normal curves was more than enough for me, thank you very much. If I could have dropped the class, God knows I would have.

           My headache had faded into a persistent throb at the base of my skull by the time I dropped my backpack on the floor and dropped onto a chair next to Dean in the cafeteria. He wrapped one arm around my shoulder, tugged me close and held up a ketchup-drenched French Fry. Seth was across the table from me, his hair tucked up under a beanie. I could smell the fresh cologne from his shower after the gym. The more I thought about it, I could smell it from Dean, too.

           Roman dropped a tray in front of me, piled high with a chicken cobb salad, mixed vegetables, and peach cobbler. His own tray had double mine. With a charming smile, he pulled a bottled soda from the deep pocket of his jeans and sat it in the center of the table. “How was stats?” he asked, already starting to shovel food into his mouth.

           “Horrible. Bullshit,” I said, using my fork to pick at the vegetables.

           The three of them shared a look. Seth looked down at his watch before giving Dean a solid nod. “Eat up, princess,” Dean said, one hand on the small of my back. “You’re gonna need it.”

           I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. A three-hour bio lecture because I’m stupid and decided to take a science only once a week.”

           “Nah,” Seth said playfully. “We’re heading out after we eat. And you’re coming with.”

           My eyes landed on Roman. “Your coach isn’t going to be happy about that.”

           He shrugged. “Baron’s got me covered. Besides, I told Coach this morning I wasn’t feeling so great.”

           I put my fork down, glanced between the three of them, felt a sizzle run through my veins. When the three of them started making plans, it wasn’t ever a good thing. Particularly if they were being secretive about it.

           “Where you going?” I asked, finishing up the vegetables and moving on to the salad.

           “Home first,” Roman murmured, a smirk curling his mouth. “Afterward… well, we’ll see what we get up to.”

           Dean’s hand rubbed soothing circles on my back, thumb stroking the base of my spine. He leaned over and settled a kiss on the side of my head. Seth bumped the toe of his sneakers against my foot under the table. Roman looked at me from beneath his obnoxiously long lashes, a smile spreading over his face.

           “Come on, sweets,” Seth said as he pushed away from the table. He reached down, snatching up my bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “You can ride shotgun. Roman drove this morning.”

***

           The three of them shared an apartment a few miles from campus. I slid out of the passenger seat and hopped down from the runner. Seth and Dean popped out of the bed of the truck and took off up the steps to the door, taking them two at a time. Roman locked the truck and tucked an arm around my shoulders. He tugged me close.

           “How’s your head feeling, baby girl?”

           I smiled, pressing closer to his warm bulk. “Better after the Aleve and that lunch you bought me.”

           Roman’s thumb brushed along my collarbone, sending soothing little tingles through my entire body. “Good. We have to take care of our girl.”

           By the time we walked through the front door, Seth was coming out of his room after having changed into some loose sweatpants and a faded band shirt. Dean was leaning against the kitchen counter, a Heineken in his hand, leather jacket thrown over the back of the nearest chair. My bag had been propped up by the sofa, looking as if it had been placed there with care.

           “You look like you need a nap, princess,” Dean said. “Ain’t made my bed yet. Go get some rest.”

           I crossed the room, smiling as I wrapped my arms around Dean’s waist and gave him a squeeze. “Thank you.”

           A moment later, I’d kicked off my shoes, sweatshirt, and jeans and crawled beneath the fluffy comforter that was balled on the end of Dean’s bed. It took less than five minutes before I was fast asleep.

__________________

Tag List

@moxleysbaby

Today’s pointless fun fact about Bunni! I’m 74 inches tall and apparantly I attract coincidences like flies

You see, I havent ever measured my height since I was in high school, and I’ve just been saying ‘i think i remember it was something like 5′7″‘ cos 74 is my favourite number and I know I’m not 4 foot. But I just had the random impulse to measure myself with a tape measure and apparantly i’m literally 74 inches OKAY WTF Also apparantly in feet that means I’m 6′1″??? EXCUSE ME tfw u accidentally tall

I mean seriously ive never measured my height in like ever, i had no idea! It was like when i was 15 that some random doctor measured it last and i couldnt remember it cos it was never important to me. I always assumed my estimate of 5′7″ was taller than I actually am, I’ve always considered myself completely average height. I knew I was taller than all of my high school friends but i just thought they were short, lol! I mean, i suppose since a lot of them were cis men then I should have realized I was tall by cis woman standards. *shrug* But there were always people my age who were way taller than me so I never considered myself tall. I guess I was like ‘if im not THE TALLEST then I cant be tall at all’. I am medium tall! Yay! I am taller than average but not super tall! Thats good, i wouldnt wanna aim for anything higher cos I dont wanna draw any more attention to myself than I already do with my appearance, lol. Not that you can choose how tall you are tho, i mean it sucks that you can just be born looking ‘weird’ in some way and you have no way to change that. I dunno why height is even classed as a ‘weird’ thing, and stuff like having glasses is ‘weird’ and just... wtf they dont affect anyone why is it a big deal. But still I’m weirdly cheered up to know I was wrong about something, I guess? Even though I didnt want to be tall?? Its just an interesting surprise to know something I assumed for ages was actually wrong and all I had to do was check. Opens my mind to think that maybe other things I think are unchangeable are perhaps not, yknow? As a depressed person I think thats a good thing to remember. I guess I’m lucky I’m a weirdo who gets easily impressed by really random things, its the best remedy for anxiety disorders XD

Anyway im a bit hyperactive and also tired so this post probably makes no sense aaaa ive had too much sugar and pizza and they had this new meatballs soup thing at dominos too??? ive eaten way too much i think im gonna puke but also I’m ENERGY OVERDOSE AAAAA bunni should not be allowed to order pizza! but like let me waste my money on a good meal once a month yo also it was my friend’s birthday earlier this week and I was SO HAPPY that i was able to afford a £40 present for like.. the first year ever! hope that makes up for me being one day late cos of my shitty sense of telling the time omg ITS BEEN A REALLY GOOD WEEK i really love and appreciate my friends and apparantly I’m tall I’m so confused by life right now how can i be tall i thought all my body mass was wasted on becoming fat instead Lol no wonder everyone stares at me in the street if I’m both tall AND fat. and like.. i have blue hair. this actually makes me feel better now, they aint judging me I’m just a natural attention-hog and i cant control it. I FEEL BAD FOR THAT THO! I should try harder to be boring but i did that thru all of high school and i was really looking forward to dyeing my hair aaaa why am i getting sad now man im drunk on pizza WHEN U DONT EAT TH PIZZA OFTEN TH PIZZA IS REALLY TH GOOD also i dont get enough sleepe have a gud day everrybody i think im gonna take a pizza nap even tho its like midday

My Keto Case Study

I can’t remember exactly when I first began to diet. The earliest recollection I have was my freshman year in college, obviously I gained the obligatory “Freshman 15.” A girlfriend of mine was a distributor for Herbal Life — the program included shakes as well as about one million herbal pills.

At some point, I hopped on the Weight Watcher train. My Mother is a “lifer” — meaning she met her goal weight, and for the rest of eternity, will be known as a Life Long member...even if she doesn’t maintain the goal weight. My entire childhood, even until today — on the cusp of turning 40 years old — she still toggles on and off diets regularly...gaining and losing the same 20-30 pounds. We are kindred spirits with a fondness for carbs, but she prefers salty and I prefer sweets.

Over the past five years, I tried WW again, another company with shakes and pills, Whole 30, and I even made up my own program which basically included not eating any processed foods.

Before I got pregnant, I was about 20 pounds overweight. Technically, I actually “should” have weighed 40 pounds less, according to BMI algorithms, but my body has always enjoyed extra padding. I don’t think my infastructure is meant to be stick thin. Going into a process where your body willingly puts on weight in order to grow a human, and you’re already carrying extra poundage, certainly isn’t ideal.

I dropped some weight after giving birth, because said human left my midsection. Then, I’d like to think, that breastfeeding knocked off a few more pounds. Many months later, I eventually got down to the weight I started with when I was pregnant — which was — 20 pounds overweight. Sigh.

{Postpartum Photos}

In June, eight and a half months after giving birth, I stopped breastfeeding, and hadn’t worked out...not even broken a sweat...since right before giving birth. My entire pregnancy, all 41 weeks, I worked out religiously at CrossFit, and then never looked back once becoming a Mommy. This isn’t because I didn’t want to do overhead squats and crazy WODs, but because my baby didn’t sleep. I was essentially a zombie for her first year of life, while juggling and navigating postpartum depression.

Over the summer, while visiting my parents’ home, a friend from childhood came over to see my daughter and catch up. To my surprise, she dropped dozens and dozens of pounds. Our figures are very similar, we could even pass for sisters from below the neck. I was impressed by her success, and curious how she did it. Meanwhile, my Mother sat in the background at the kitchen table, overhearing our entire conversation, and decided she wanted in on the “Ketogenic” program, known as Keto.

Just like my Mom, I have historically lost weight for an event. Weddings were my go-to weight loss event, particularly when I was a bridesmaid (12 times no less). This particular time around, my Mom wanted to lose weight for a cruise she was going on in September; she went on the ship 15 pounds lighter but then subsequently didn’t stick to Keto.

For the next few weeks, after my initial talk with the successful Keto friend, I cannonballed headfirst into Google research. I consumed videos, read articles, watched more videos, and then read some more articles. After my sister’s wedding in early August, during the 13 hour drive back from New York, I spent some more time reading, and reading, and reading. It probably didn’t hurt that I also became privy to photos of me from the wedding — not only did I immediately realize I sadly no longer needed to wear nursing bras with zero support (Dear God, why didn’t anyone tell me?!?), but I did in fact need to get healthier. My body and face looked inflamed, and I was tired of not being able to wear my pre-pregnancy jeans.

I asked countless follow-up questions to my successful Keto friend, and also to another gal who lost a massive amount of weight following the Keto program (under a doctor’s supervision). I decided I was in.

My personality, at a microscopic level, is all in or nothing at all; I do not know what half-assing means. Some people call this discipline, I call it not wasting my time.

So on August 13th, I officially weighed in and measured my Mommy curves to begin the journey on a ketogenic diet. I’ve had curves since I hit puberty. I embrace them, and love that my strong legs resemble tree trunks. An hour glass figure isn’t the worst card to be dealt. So when I say curves, I just mean the extra thickkkkk curves that came with pregnancy. 

I wasn’t strict as far as counting macros, I simply counted (in my head) the number of net carbs I was consuming. That’s how my friend did it, so I figured I’d follow her lead. As it turned out, I personally needed to count my macros (ratio of protein / fat / carbs) in order to follow Keto correctly. I began using a free and easy app called Carb Manager for about two months until I got the hang of things and haven’t used it since because now I know what’s what.

Some people call Keto a diet, I’d like to think it’s my new lifestyle. I have absolutely no idea how long I’ll follow this lifestyle. I’m not naive enough to say for my lifetime, but it definitely isn’t going to be a shortlived stint. 

This process has been incredibly humbling at a visceral level. For starters, I am embarrassed to admit how incredibly ignorant I used to be when it came to judging things I knew nothing about. One of my best friends, who is fighting a chronic heart condition, first brought up the word “Keto” over the phone last year. I immediately snubbed the idea, exacerbated, I said, “it’s just like Atkins” (which was meant to be a negative connotation), and shut down the thought of her doing this diet. For the record, it’s not like Atkins (that program touts high protein, whereas Keto is moderate protein — this is signficant because too much protein can be turned into glucose/sugar). 

“The biggest form of ignorance is rejecting something you know nothing about.” - Wayne Dyer

The Ketogenic gurus are also hyper focused on not eating fake sugar, particularly lots of phony faux sweetners that are labeled “Keto” on the package, but are absolutely not Keto-approved because they will still spike your blood sugar levels as if you’re actually eating sugar. 

{Source: Epilepsy Foundation}

The name ketogenic means that it produces ketones in the body. (keto = ketone; genic = producing) Ketones are formed when the body uses fat for its source of energy.

Usually the body uses carbohydrates (such as sugar, bread, pasta) for its fuel. Because the ketogenic diet is very low in carbohydrates, fats become the primary fuel instead. The body can work very well on ketones (and fats).

Ketones are not dangerous. They can be detected in the urine, blood, and breath. Ketones are one of the more likely mechanisms of action of the diet, with higher ketone levels often leading to improved seizure control. However, there are many other theories for why the diet will work.

Secondly, for as long as my temporal lobes can recall, I have been adamantly against fasting…and, I’m not exactly sure why. Again, just another position I claimed with literally zero education or facts. My husband, for years and years, suggested I workout while fasting. I swore to him that I would fall flat on my face if I ever tried such an absurd strategy. 

Since I have been a devout low calorie follower, I’ve been chronically hungry. I was brainwashed to believe, with most of America, to have Fatphobia. I drank skim milk, which has a lot of sugar. I ate low fat packaged snacks, which were packed full of sugar. I ate mini meals all day long, 6 times a day. In other words, I was spiking my insulin all day long. My purse was always, without fail, full of munchies. Protein bars, crackers, apples, and a myriad of other nibbles. I would not, could not, leave my house without emergency food within arm’s reach. God forbid I got hungry and immediately turned hangry. Come to think of it, I was basically a 5′4″ child who was, at any given time, on the verge of a meltdown from being ravenousness. I didn’t quite realize it, but I was starving myself, and yet ironically, still overweight.

When I started Keto, my motivation was weight loss. But, what’s fascinating, is learning that weight loss is actually a side effect. The Ketogenic diet was originally designed for people who suffered from epilepsy and helped control their seizures. Ketogenic eating has been known to decrease inflammation in the body, eliminate diseases such as diabetes or heart conditions, sleep issues, GI troubles, and the resolution list goes on and on. 

What I’ve learned is that our bodies have 2 primary sources of fuel — glucose  (sugar / carbs), and fat. When you eliminate or greatly reduce glucose / sugar / carbs, your body will eventually start to burn fat for fuel. Luckily, I have a tremendous amount of excess fat that’s been waiting for an intevention. 

There is an enormous amount of misinformation ‘out there’ about eating Keto, and I am the first to admit I was super skeptical before I did my homework. 

Keto can get a bad rap for eating unlimited bacon, cheese, and bacon cheeseburgers. The other night, while out to eat with a group of ladies, for an appetizer I had a wedge salad (which includes veggiesc and crumbled blue cheese), and for dinner I had broccoli, asparagus, and a delicious steak. I put a little bit of real butter on my veggies. Also, the table enjoyed an array of desserts and not only did I not partake in the sugar fix, I didn’t even want any / I didn’t feel like I was missing out. In my past carb-laden life, I plunged my spoon into the dish first, and shoveled the brownie and ice cream into my pie hole as fast as I possibly could. There are varying versions of keto, that range from “dirty” to “clean.” When you eat dirty Keto, that’s what has given the program an unhealthy shadiness reputation on the streets. I fall in line closer to the cleaner side of keto, but have my dirty moments, and always eat organic, nitrate-free, etc. whenever possible. Oh and for the record, I usually drink one glass of red wine with my dinners. I may have lost weight, but I haven’t lost my damn mind. I draw the line at giving up my vino, that’s non-negotiable, and more importantly — I’ve been able to stay in ketosis. And yes I eat a small serving of fruit from time to time, berries are the best option and happen to be my favorite. 

Because every one is different, literally and metaphorically, results vary. My personal journey was that I shrunk in size, but the scale didn’t have impressive numbers to show for my effort. 

Come October, on the same day that my daughter turned one year old, I joined a gym. By that time, I had two months of Keto under my belt. Since I was a CrossFit junkie for 3 years pre-baby, I had to check my ego at the fitness facility’s door and slowly take it one day at a time. Besides picking up a baby thousands of times, I really hadn’t moved a muscle in 365 days. My body went through an enormous metamorphosis after making a little person, and I knew in my bones that I truly had to ease my way back into a safe grove. I sat down with a registered nurse at the gym and she did a body mass analysis using a machine that can calculate your composition make-up. 

This is where my self-fulfilling prophecy manifested, in the form of a personal case study. During college, I sucked at all things math, but ironically I was a wanna-be wizard at statistics. I got a B+ and until this day, I live for stats. With this documented analysis, I was stoked to have a baseline for my Keto journey that was more than just a generic number on a scale. Sure, I have baggage with the God foresaken scale, but now I truly know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the scale does not tell the whole story. 

Next up, I went to my Primary Care Physician’s office and had blood work drawn, along with a physical exam. I would also use these clinical insights as a foundation for improving my health, as well as proving that this way of eating is in fact healthy and not destroying my heart or other organs, or jacking up my cholesterol. 

Come January, I started to dabble in “I.T.” — intermittent fasting.

Now, when I say I’ve done my research, I mean an absurd amount of research. For almost a decade, my profession has been based in the medical field, so I’ve become a wee bit snobby when it comes to peer reviewed, scientific-based information. Blogs and anecdotal banter do not hold a candle in my book; I want facts, documentation, and proof. I want real stories from real people. I want lab work and the truth.

From mid-October through today, I’ve worked out on average about 4 times a week for one hour at a time. I joined a gym that has a daycare and now the sun shines a little brighter. My mini me gets to socialize with little people, and I get to lift weights (which doesn’t entail lifting a little person). I no longer listen to music while working out and I’ve become unapologetically obsessed with Podcasts. I realize I’m way, way behind the digital audio fad, but nonetheless I can’t get enough of them. Despite my husband’s dismay at potentially drowning my iPhone, I even listen to Youtube videos and Podcasts in the shower for goodness sake. Oprah, Tony Robbins and their leadership development peers make regular appearances, but for the most part, I’m quite literally up to my ears in Keto-related content. 

Maybe this is because I’m a real life sponge and adore the process of learning. Maybe it’s because I’ve been trained through my professional line of work that it takes listening/reading/hearing the SAME information at least 5x before you even retain a fraction of it. Who knows.

With that said, I’ve been convinced through dozens and dozens and dozens of 'classroom’ hours that intermittent fasting is a phenomenal practice for our bodies. And, if my own mad scientist research wasn’t enough, then when my friend who is currently battling breast cancer was told by her global team of physicians to do I.T. because it helps shrink those asshole cancer cells, certainly proved the point that removing sugar from our systems is a miracle worker.

I.T. comes in different forms because there are a variety of disciplines, but the most popular one is 16:8 / you don’t eat for a 16 hour window and you do eat for an 8 hour window. Within that 16 hour window, you’re sleeping for hopefully 7-8 hours of them, which basically means you don’t eat breakfast and you start your first meal with lunch. And, here’s the fun part — when you get the majority of your fuel from healthy fats, you aren’t even hungry, so fasting is actually not a big deal. Just like the rest of my journey, I worked up to this goal. I started with 12 hours, then 13, and so on.

I tried a longer fast, about 60 hours, in January. This was supposed to be some type of reset for my body. I felt like my weight loss was stalling, despite no cheats and working out. The first day was extremely difficult for me, I wanted to quit throughout the afternoon. The second day was a complete 180 degree turn — I wasn’t hungry and felt totally fine. But, I wanted to eat anyway. This experience really helped me stare my relationship with food face-to-face. I quieted my mind and asked why did I want to eat, I wasn’t even hungry. I realized that it’s the habit of eating I was used to, even if I wasn’t hungry.

Several people I know have loved ones who had gastric bypass surgery. It broke my heart to hear that there is no counseling after the fact — sure it’s available, but they weren’t utilizing it, nor was it required. And, they were back to their original style of eating and unhealthy types of food that qualified them for this surgery to begin with. 

Food can be used as a drug, just like other stereotypical vices including gambling and shopping. I know that no matter what “diet” or lifestyle change I become a VIP member to, it’s just a Band-Aid until I fix the root of the issue — using food to fill me up. I also realize that history has a way of repeating itself and I’ve walked in my Mother’s shoes, witnessing her on some type of diet my entire life.

I am approaching the 8 month mark as a Ketogenic crony, and here is where things currently stand:

I’ve lost 21 pounds. 

I’ve lost 14 inches between my hips, waist, thighs and chest.

I’ve lost 2-3 pant sizes — even fitting in to my “goal pants” (which I have never been able to zip up, including when I bought them years ago).

I weigh less than I did at my wedding four years ago.

I mentally and physically feel amazing and am rarely hungry. I repeat, I am not hungry. Eating fat is satiating...what a freaking concept (girl hits empty carb head against brick wall).

In all of my days walking this earth, no one has ever once told me that I was tiny. Last week, two people on the same evening said, “You’re tiny.” Granted, I am not tiny. In fact, I’m technically still overweight on the BMI algorithm, and according to...what I like to refer to as my Momma Kangaroo belly pouch... but that leads me to my next point.

One week ago I had my follow-up appointment with both the gym’s registered nurse as well as my PCP. I had both original tests re-run in order to determine, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was 100% healthy. Obviously being able to stowaway my maternity jeans, and have my leggings become baggy speaks for itself, but I wanted to know what was really going on behind the zippers and elastic bands.

At the PCP appointment, my provider couldn’t stop gloating about how much weight I had dropped since our last visit. The next day, an email came through with results from the blood work as a 3-page report. At the very end it says, and I quote, “Your lipid panel results are acceptable. Continue your Keto diet, it is not detrimental to your cholesterol.” 

My body composition test results were also impressive. 

BMI —from 30.2 (obese) to 27.9 (overweight)

Body Fat %: 37.2 to 35.2

Blood pressure — from 130/80 to 110/78

And what really made me jump for joy, was finding out the breakdown of my “dry lean mass” and “body fast mass.” The nutritionist, who was a skinny mini, said to me, “Your skeletal muscle mass is nearly above average. I’ve spent my whole life doing massive amounts of cardio, which is why I’m so skinny, but I should have been doing much more weightlifting and less cardio. Keep doing what you’re doing.” In other words, the stupid scale not moving exponentially and “only” losing about 20 pounds is a bunch of bologne. I legitimately have put on muscle, praise the Lord almighty. 

So there you have it folks. This is one way of getting healthy. I’m sure it’s not for everyone, but it’s definitely for me. I do not feel deprived, whatsoever. The food I eat is absolutely delicious, I’m satisifed after eating, and there are thousands of Keto-friendly recipes to make the process a breeze — including yummy alternative carb staples such as breads. 

I’ll sign off with a few insider tips and resources.

Drink a lot of water. People — listen to me — do this anyway. But especially if you’re doing Keto. I drink 3 liters of water a day. My goal is to drink 1 by noon, 1 by 5pm, and the rest before bed.

You’ll lose water weight and with that, electrolytes will flush out, which is why you want to replace them. Otherwise, you’ll get what’s called the “Keto Flu.” Don’t do that. Up your electrolytes (potassium, magnesium and sodium), ideally through whole foods but also in supplements (vitamins and/or electrolyte drinks). By eating Ketogenic-friendly foods, your body won’t get as much of this as it normally would and balanced electrolytes make you feel awesome. 

Don’t be scared of veggies just because they have carbs. Veggies are good for you, really really good for you and have tons of fiber. They’re not all created equal of course, but enjoy your greens every single day.

I don’t recommend starting out with Keto-style desserts / sweets or Keto breads. You can work those into your meals later on, once you’ve gotten fat adapted (Google what that means), but they should be considered a treat and not a staple in your everyday regimen. 

Check out these links for Dr. Fung —all things Intermittent Fasting — and Dr. Berg for all things Keto and nutrition. 

You don’t have to do this in order to follow Keto, but I have enjoyed drinking exogenous ketones for the last few months. I drink it as my “pre workout” drink or while I’m working out. It gives me lots of energy and all the benefits of ketones. I have a customer referral code if anyone would like it.

This may be the first time, in all of my diet dabbling years, that I’ve ever truly faced why I treated food like medication. It’s also the first time I’ve ever tried to lose weight and it wasn’t for an event. 

I’m turning 40 years old this summer and we may consider giving my daughter a sibling, if that’s what the good Lord wills. My ‘event’ milestones with a dress size to fit into has been replaced with the lifelong milestone of being a Mother. I want to be a confident woman who my daughter looks up to and admires my health from the inside — out. I want her to know that food is for nutrition, not for stuffing feelings down. I want her to know that the scale doesn’t define her worth. I want her to know that muscles and strength is sexy. I want her to know that she’s perfect exactly the way she is. 

Annual, Part 3

This is a huge male stuffing/weight gain commission for Doom7951 from over on DA. This chapter, the year wears on, and Dorian finds out Delta’s special (and filling) talent. Enjoy!

 January 2nd Dorian awoke, belly having calmed after the gentle dinner of the night before. A mint salad to cool his tum, a plate of thinly sliced fish, and a small portion of caramel-drizzled coffee cake. Delicious, and unexpected, considering the agonizing gauntlet just a few hours prior. “Morning, sweetness! Hope you don’t frighten easy, because there’s a load of crepes waiting for you down here!” Dorian couldn’t help but smile out of the corner of his mouth. He rolled out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom, yawning as he flicked on the light. In one corner was a simple yet spacious shower with a stainless-steel shower head. Besides the toilet and sink, the rest of the room was dominated by a massive bathtub which looked more like a small pool. It had four faucets for quick filling; it seemed perfectly usable for daily use, if not expensive and impractical with a shower so near. Dorian just shrugged it off as another fanciful amenity that may see some use for bubble baths and de-robed, climbing into the shower for a quick wash with the expensive gels provided. In a few minutes, he had toweled off, re-dressed, and had headed down to the first floor. His nostrils were filled with promises of sugary sweet treats waiting for him in the dining hall, readily confirmed by the assortment of plates that waited at the head of the table. Delta placed the last of the plates down as Dorian walked through the door. “Good morning! Sleep well?” the pink chef smiled, slithering over to him. “Definitely. The bed is super comfortable.” “Great, because there’s a big day ahead of us! I’ve sent for a gardener to harvest the orchard, though I’ve got to head back to the restaurant for a few hours before lunch. I hope you won’t be too lonely without me, darling.” Delta gave him a little pat on his back. “O-Oh, uh… I’ll be fine, I think.” Dorian reassured. “Good, good. Well, let’s not let the food get cold, shall we?” Delta led Dorian to the table and pulled the chair out for him. As soon as he sat down, he was scooted forward, getting a face full of delicious crepe steam. “It smells really good…” he salivated. He picked up the knife and fork and cut off a small slice drizzled in fresh strawberry sauce, and brought it to his mouth. His vision pulsed as the bite flooded his senses; it was bliss in crepe form. Dorian couldn’t help but cram the rest into his mouth, his cheeks puffing with food as he chewed. “I’ll just leave you to it~” Delta giggled, retreating back through the entrance. The next hour was bathed in warm, sweet flavors. Strawberry, chocolate, cinnamon, all graced his lips with their decadence one by one. And, in turn, his stomach was packed with six plates of thin pastry, turning his smooth, average belly into a tight basketball. He could barely finish the cider set out for him, yet the warm smoothness of it soothed the aching in his belly. After the last gulp, he let out a long sigh and rested back in the chair for a while, eyes closed. Ten minutes later, sufficiently recuperated, Dorian pushed himself back out of the chair and slowly roamed back into the main hall. With his hands in his pockets, he examined the portraits along the walls. The city’s history stared back at him, painters and architects, explorers and nobles. It was hard to ignore their sizes; soft rolls, prodigious bellies, arms like turgid pastry bags, chins and folds and dimples all carefully rendered on canvas by skilled hands. Dorian’s mind connected the theme to Delta’s love of cooking, but inevitably chalked it up to the fact that nearly all of the city’s famous contributors just happened to be big and left it at that as he moved on to the lounge. He was immediately drawn to the bookshelf. Recipe books and handwritten cooking guides lined the top, some embellished with fancy leather bindings and others just collections of notes tied together with cooking twine. Further down was a collection of classics; The Legend of Vander, Empire of Hunger, Claritser’s Guide to Magical Afflictions (and the sequel, Living with Transfigurative Curses: It’s Not so Bad, by Claritser.) The rest were combinations of easy-read adventure stories, amorous fireside romances, fantastical sci-fi tales, guides on proper self-care, and enthralling fantasies with beautiful covers. ‘Not a bad collection’, Dorian thought, and wandered past the tall shelves of films that comprised the less-literary library. He couldn’t help but stare at the twinkling, colorful bottles lining the back wall of the bar. On first glance, they just seemed to be liquors in overly fancy decanters, but on closer inspection Dorian found that most of them were simply fruit syrups and candy toppings. There were a few fine alcoholic beverages, yes, but the majority seemed to be sugary sweet dessert treats. Dorian spotted a dual-doored freezer below him and crouched down to open it, revealing dozens of ice creams, sorbets, and various other chilled treats. Dessert bar. Huh. He shut the fridge and meandered about for a while before finding a comprehensive bestiary from the library and a particularly cushy couch in the corner. Halfway between the human species listing, he fell asleep, the fire gently crackling away. February 1st A month into his vacation, he found himself building a daily rhythm. First, breakfast with Delta, then a trip to the library where he’d read for an hour, then off to the pool where he swam until his belly stopped hurting from the mass amounts of food he couldn’t help but stuff into himself. Then, he’d join Delta for lunch, and after that he’d take a book outside to the orchard and read in the chilly evening air, the scent of berries swirling around him. At the end of the night, a comparatively light dinner, thirty minutes of pushing piano keys, a cup of fresh red tea, and a shower. Dorian had yet to explore the rest of the spacious manor-nor had he even visited the greenhouse-but still felt in bliss. Nothing had changed particularly, but the relaxed familiarity was fine enough to live comfortably with. Nothing had changed. That is, until today. The sleepy boy finished toweling himself dry in the steamy bathroom and pulled on his underwear. However, where they usually hung around his posterior baggily, the fabric was pulled snug. Not enough to pinch, but unfamiliarly tight. “Hmm.” He frowned to himself, turning to look himself over in the mirror. His rather average physique had gotten decidedly more “average” in the past month, his whole body having attained a thin layer of pudge. He didn’t think he could call himself chubby yet, but if things kept progressing he was sure he could soon. “Maybe a little more time in the pool could help…” he shrugged to himself, and tossed on his shirt. “There’s certainly enough time for it.” Delta was waiting in his usual spot by the time Dorian arrived back in the dining hall. “Good morning, my adorable friend! How are you feeling today?” he spoke, putting a touch of sauce on the edge of the omelet plate. “I’m alright.” Dorian replied, and plopped down in the chair. “Well I hope you’re alright and hungry, because I made just a little too much this morning. I’m a little nervous about this to be quite honest, it’s a new recipe and I’d hate for it to go to waste…” Delta quickly unveiled the dish just beyond the omelet, a cloud of steam rushing out to the air. Sitting in a bed of powdered sugar sat a slab of French toast so large it looked more like a pillow than simple egg on bread. A light brown-sugar sauce was drizzled across, hints of maple wafting through the room. A single strawberry was perched atop. “Woah…” is all Dorian could think to say, awe-struck by the massive meal. “I’m so sorry it’s so large!” Delta clasped his gooey hands together, seeming more than a little distraught. “I’d hate to think I’d have created a meal that somebody couldn’t finish. Please, try your best for me!” “A-Alright! Let me just… finish these eggs first.” Dorian spoke, an uncertain grin wavering on his face. He shoveled in the thick warm omelet with his eyes focused on the main course, as though it would suddenly walk across the table and crush him at any moment. Eggs vanquished, he hesitantly pulled the large platter towards him, letting it rest in front of him. He had an urge to hug it in all of its soft, plush glory, but resisted and raised his knife. “I believe in you!” Delta cheered as Dorian cut off the first minuscule sliver which seemed like a meal in its own right. He brought it up and stuffed it into his mouth, syrup smearing across his lips. Ecstasy again, as to be expected from his cooking by now, but this felt… different. Like the winter season had divined it right there on the table, a warm, sweet shield against the frosty air outside. It was a sunny window, a close hug, a comfort. Simply put, it was the greatest breakfast Dorian had ever eaten. “W-Wow…” he gasped, forcing another large chunk into his mouth. Delta watched with glee, thick tail wiggling slowly behind him like a happy gummy worm. Dorian’s belly stretched into a now-familiar ball, yet not even half of the food was gone. Fifteen minutes later, he was no closer to being done, and felt more stuffed than a refurbished teddy bear. His jaw ached, and his resolution waned. “I-I… I don’t think I can finish this…” he groaned, sinking into his chair. Before Delta could even ask if he’d undone his belt, Dorian lifted his shirt gently to reveal that he hadn’t even worn one, and his tight-as-a-drum tum pushed the open flap of his pants out. “Are you sure? Maybe you just need some help…” Delta inquired, leaning forward to place a soft hand on his reddened belly. Dorian flinched, cheeks flushing. “H-Hey, wait- ahh…” he sighed, Delta’s fingers rubbing the intense aches into calm pulses. For as embarrassing as it was to have his host giving him post-meal massages, it undeniably felt fantastic. “Better?” he purred, kneading his belly like a cat on wool. Dorian nodded, leaning his head back. “Then… do you think you could finish it?” Dorian looked at the still-massive pile of syrup, sugar, and toast, then back to Delta. “I… don’t think so. I can’t keep chewing.” He rubbed his mouth gently for effect. “Oh, I can help with that! Here, watch this.” Delta picked up the platter and dumped it right onto his chest, the slime cleaning the platter into a shine, which was easily deposited out of his back and placed back on the table with his tail. The food swirled around within him like a small hurricane, quickly dissolving into his very core. He stifled a tiny slime belch, and raised his hand. “Open wide, please!” “Uh, okay…” Dorian opened his mouth hesitantly, and Delta pushed two fingers against his tongue. Dorian opened his eyes wide in stunned response (or lack thereof) as his hand melted into his cheeks, capturing the decadent flavors of the dish he’d consumed. It was like drinking warm chocolate: luxurious, flavorful, and comforting. He gulped the first mouthful of goo, and before he knew it another mouthful had taken its place. It didn’t take long to build a rhythm, cheeks refilled and quickly emptied down his throat one after the other. His belly grew ever larger, yet somehow felt no more irritated than before. It was practically a beachball in his lap before Delta withdrew his hand, rosy finger drawing down the center of his lip, leaving behind a pink trail. “Good, right?” Delta grinned a catlike smile, rubbing his belly in wide circles. At this size, small circles just wouldn’t do. Following on the thought of his size, Dorian looked down in drowsy awe to the tight orb of flesh in his lap. His shirt buttons had migrated upwards with the rest of the cloth, dangerously stressed and inches from snapping. He looked like he’d swallowed a great melon; however, he felt like he’d swallowed a whole patch. With hands splayed, he gripped both sides of his belly, and even with each finger stretching far apart, he could contain scarcely little of the turgid ball. Delta’s soft rubs kept it from aching terribly, and relieved him greatly; in fact, it almost seemed like his stomach was retreating ever so slowly. Was it?… His pants slowly filled out with plumping cheeks and thickening thighs, growing like a baking roll until it filled out his pants to skin-tight quality and pushed up ever further, giving him a muffin top just big enough to pinch and arms only slightly rounder. It felt inconsequential; just a small amount of fat here and there… nothing that wouldn’t come off with a bit of exercise. He felt like a blimp reveling in post meal rapture, as one does after an exceptionally large meal. It would be gone in the morning, he thought, but for now? He’d enjoy being round and warm. Delta leaned on his belly, holding himself up with one hand. “Why don’t I help you to the lounge so you can rest the rest of this off while I prepare lunch? Can’t have you too full for my special stew~” Dorian simply nodded his head, for as full as he was, a part of him looked forward to that stew.

4th Point of Contact - Mission Report #7

Author: WaterMonkey0

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo / Harper Hasagawa (OC)

Current Chapter Rating: PG

Genre: Canon

Mission Reports: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7

I learned a lot more over the next few weeks about Kpop than I ever thought I would in my lifetime. Entertainment companies in Korea were not like the record labels back home. These agencies controlled every aspect of their brand, including: who they chose to train, what image they would portray, when they would begin their career, what type of music they would produce, everything.

Idols start their journeys off as ‘trainees’, having signed a contract with their company, but not ready to ‘debut’, meaning: start performing and stuff. They work daily with the choreographers, vocal coaches, linguists, and managers employed by their company until it’s decided that they are prepared. These baby idols live where I live, in the trainee dorm, either thriving or not in this highly competitive world. And when I say highly competitive, I mean highly competitive. Hell week in boot camp was bad, but at least I didn’t have to sing in perfect pitch while someone bounced a basketball on my stomach.

Tala also taught me that entertainment agencies trade trainees like Pokémon cards, and that’s how she ended up at SM.

~~~

Then of course, there were the boys. EXO came down to the lot nearly everyday, and Bacon made it a point to give me a high five. He always made the effort to speak to me, whether we were passing in the hall, the elevator, or when they were coming to pick up a van. It was sweet, even though I knew ‘hello’ was probably the extent of his english. And here I was, having downloaded three language apps, forced Tala to implement a Korean word of the day, and nearly drowned myself in Kpop...and the only word I knew was ‘yeoboseyo’. We were two peas in a pod, Bacon and I.

June came and went in a whirl of glitter, parking passes, and being constantly yelled at in Korean. By July 1st, I was ready to pull my hair out, but the look of smug victory I imagined on Chief Soo’s face kept me motivated. He wasn’t going to win, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to lose. I counted our interactions as battles in a thirteen year long war: the spark set off in his office where I took the lead, but he pushed back swiftly with carpool duty. So far, we were 1-1 and stalled, until July 4th when I couldn’t contain my desire for tacos any longer.

Ladies and Gentlemen, did you know that the largest military base outside of the United States is located 60 miles south of Seoul? Camp Humphreys is an army base, sprawling 1,200 acres, and only has plans to grow in the future. Men I served with in Japan would boast about the accommodations, how nice they were, how new. I would swiftly drop kick them over hacksaw ridge, but that’s beside the point. On this Independence Day, when I’d sold my soul to a Korean ‘Agma’ and all I wanted was a little taste of home, I sucked it up.

I didn't want to go to Humphreys, but I knew very little about the installations in the area and frankly...no one would look at me twice on a base that size. So I caught a bus south from Seoul, and dozed against the window. I wasn't the only one on the bus going to the camp so it was easy to go unnoticed in a line on new recruits. Thankfully, no one bothered to ask where my luggage was for someone fresh from america, and they glossed right over my rank. The unintentional disrespect pricked at the back of my neck, but I said nothing. I outranked everyone here, or at least...I used to. Your status follows you even into retirement, but what would be the benefit of making a spectacle of myself here? I'd announce, be saluted, go about my day, and then someone would inevitably ask where I'd been, why I didn't reelist like I said I would, why the legendary 'Baroness' was groveling for scraps in Korea, and those were questions I was nowhere near able to answer without resorting to violence first. So I stayed quiet, and allowed the guardsmen to lead the group of privates in. The commissary was brand new, which was nice, and it came fully equipped with the military comfort basics: Burger King, Popeyes, Starbucks, and Pizza Hut. Not to mention the fancy schmancy BX, where Samsung was doing well for business. I swear they sold bigger TVs here than back home. But the auxiliaries were hosting a special cook out for the holiday, and that's what I came for. I doubt anyone got off work, but they got hot dogs, so where was the issue? Thankfully, as I slipped into the serving line, I was correct about being anonymous. The biggest base in the world was used to constantly new faces, and the ladies who ladled my plate full of potato salad and baked beans smiled at me warmly. 'Thank you for your service' they said, and my stomach twisted into a knot. I claimed a small table with only one chair so no one friendly could try and join me, and chowed down to my heart's content. It's true that fast food can kill you, but I don't think anything could give you a sweeter death. I probably looked feral, shoveling the food into my face, but when you live off of ramen for a month, you get a manners pass. I couldn't order in Korean, so how was I supposed to go to a restaurant? It wasn't like anyone was itching to take me out to eat. Moody Kyungsoo barely looked at me, even when Bacon dragged them over, Chief Soo was busy trying to fire me, and CEO Kim wasn't exactly the 'take-you-out-for-Korean-BBQ' type of man. I supposed I could have asked Tala, but I bothered her enough as it was. I was just starting to feel comfortable again when my phone rang. With a groan, I licked hot sauce off my fingers and answered without looking. “Ms. Hasagawa.” The falsely chipper voice of CEO Kim made me shudder. “Yes, sir?” I replied, not even trying to pretend I knew how to say that in Korean. “After looking at the numbers, I would like to congratulate you on your success in our Vehicle Organization Unit.” “You mean the parking lot?” I snorted. “You have turned it into one of our most productive areas.” “Well look at me…” It was like, no matter what I meant to say, sarcasm just fell out of my mouth. “Your performance has been noted by your supervisor as well.” He added, and I paused at that. “You mean Chief Soo?” “Yes.” “I highly doubt he has anything nice to say on my behalf.” I grumbled, annoyed that I’d gone a solid fifteen minutes without thinking about my terrible boss only for him to be brought back up again. “Luckily I have him right here.” There was the district sound of the phone being switched to speaker, and I could feel the uncomfortable silence between an employee who didn’t want to say something and a boss who was making him. “Hasagawa.” He pretty much barked, and I had to pull the phone away from my ear for a second. “What?” I grunted, eyeing my burger that was getting colder by the minute. “Tell her about the trip, Laon.” I heard CEO Kim in the background dictating. “As you know, SM encouraged unity and happiness in its employees, and strives to make the workplace a desirable and productive place to work.” “Ahuh?” I slurred. “And every year, SM encourages its employees to attend their yearly team building retreat, this year held on Jeju island.” “Ahuh?” “And this year, your presence is requested.” His words were clipped short. “Ahuh…” “What else do you have to tell her, Laon?” CEO Kim asked, and I knew exactly what kind of face he was making behind Chief Soo’s back. “And…you’re being promoted.” I heard the sound of a whiny child in his voice, and I could have laughed. “Ahuh.” I said instead. “Will you stop your idiotic gawking and speak!” Chief Soo snapped. “Laon…” CEO Kim warned pleasantly. I could get used to having him around if he was able to keep Chief Soo on a leash like this. After the sound of an angry throat being cleared, Chief Soo gave me my second victory. “Harper Hasagawa, you are now assigned to the security detail of EXO. You will attend the retreat with them, and participate with the other officers.” “What happened to me being a stubborn, stupid American?” I chided with a grin. There was another pause, and I could tell he was working up to it, the words nauseating him. But CEO Kim was staring, so there was no way he couldn’t.

“I misspoke. I apologize.”

~

The SMTown retreat was all anyone was talking about once I made it back to Seoul. Tala nearly tackled me in the hallway outside my room. "Did you hear?!" She exclaimed as I pushed my door open. "Hear what?" I pretended, dropping my keys on the bed. She quickly slipped off her shoes while I didn't bother. That was something I was never going to get used to. It was that way in Japan as well, and Kojima never passed up an opportunity to remind me how uncivilized I was. "The retreat!" she squealed and jumped on my bed before I could sit down. She was moving too fast for my stuffed self, so I gave up and opted for the desk chair. "We're all going on the retreat!" "So?" I asked, picking up the closest book to me and staring at the page. It was a Korean-English dictionary, somewhere in the 'S'. When I didn't feed into her excitement, Tala started to pout, and crossed her arms with a huff. "You're going too." She said snobbishly. "Your name was on list with rest of security." "Probably need someone to park the cars." I snickered, and then actually did grin at myself. "Oh come on!" She cried, throwing her hands in the air. "This what you wanted! You get to work with EXO!" She grabbed for the book, but I pulled it from her reach. It was unavoidable now, and she knew she had my attention. "What are you going to do about Chief Soo?"  I would call it a moment of weakness, when I told Tala nearly everything about myself , but you can't really call it a moment when you do it over and over again. She was truly my only companion in the whole country, and I overused the ear she offered. So I mumbled and grumbled, tossing the prop book aside. What was I going to do about Chief Soo? I was up by one, but knowing him, this retreat that was not his idea was going to be the perfect place for him to get back on top. "What even is this trip?" I asked, and Tala smirked, knowing she'd hooked me. She liked being my source of information. "It's a workshop for employees. Trainees work on debut, idols work on comebacks, and security..." She wagged her eyebrows at me, "work on teamwork." "You're kidding me." I deadpanned, not interested in the slightest. "No! There's a competition every year to see who's the best!" Her face lit up suddenly, and she jumped off the bed and grabbed my arm. "You need to win it! Then Chief Soo can't touch you!" The taste of victory brought with it a little melancholy. If I won this competition, my war with Chief Soo would be all but over. He couldn't fire me if I had the backing of the company. Then again...how were the rest of the guards going to feel if I swooped in and destroyed them? Been there, done that. I shook Tala off my arm, but nodded to her. "When do we leave?" The company hadn't given me a whole lot of notice. It was tuesday and we were set to leave next monday. I had less than a week to get back into the kind of shape that would win me the contest. And then there was the fact that I didn't know what kind of contest it was. If it was a kimchi eating contest, I was out of luck. And they didn't use firearms in this country, so I was up a creek there too. My hand to hand was decent, but I feel like the guards at LAX were more surprised than outmanned. Not to sell myself short or anything. This was the land of Taekwondo, after all. Is that racist? I turned the parking lot into a workout center by doing pull ups on the doorframe of the shack, chair dips on the bumper of the vans, and making the managers park in a relay that I could run when no one was looking. It felt good stretching my legs again, oddly satisfying even. The day after the rescue, I felt every single punch and kick in my bones; I was sore for days. But exercising now, I could get back to that dreaded six minute mile Kojima had teased me about. The trainee dorms were buzzing come monday. Boys and girls last minute packing, darting from room to room, borrowing clothes, making promises to bunk together. It felt like I was going off to summer camp with a gaggle of my closest strangers. Over the last month, and no doubt due to Tala's nagging, the rest of the kids had warmed up to me. To my surprise, only one of them had been lying about being able to speak English. The rest truly struggled with the language, and I won them over by helping them with their studies. SM was outdoing itself this year, or so I was told. In addition to the groups like NCT, EXO, SNSD, Red Velvet, and more, CEO Kim also wanted to take actors, models, MCs, and others from his sub-labels SM C&C and Mystic Entertainment. The company would be taking almost 900 employees to this resort on Jeju Island, and I was already feeling cramped as we staged to leave for the airport. The flight to the island was a whopping hour and fifteen minutes, and from there, they would cart us to the resort by bus, another thirty minutes. A small part of my hoped that Tala would just adopt me without asking, and I wouldn't have to awkwardly follow along behind the cliques of girls and glitter... but it didn't happen. She disappeared with some of the girls from a group called Red Velvet and I was left with my stupid ruck, standing by the bus, hoping someone would come save me. 

~

The resort was stunning. Halfway between the beach and nothing, uniquely modern houses sat clustered around long day pools. Each house had many rooms, and their own porches that sported a hot tub for each. A volleyball court could be seen a hundred yards away where the water lapped at the sand, bordered by coconut trees and palm branches. It was the epitome of island life. At the far end of the resort, a large recreational building had been prepped to house a thousand dancing teenagers. "Harper came!" Baekhyun grinned from ear to ear as EXO unloaded from their bus. "Since when are you calling girls by their first names?" Junmyeon chided from behind him. "Since she told me to! I'm gonna go say hi!" And before anyone could stop him, the leader of the beagle line was off and all smiles. Kyungsoo watched forlornly as Harper's face, which had been a mask of boredom, blossomed into relief when Baek romped up to her. Kyungsoo had to admit that his brother had that effect on people, but he thought it would be really great if Baek didn't use it on her. A month had gone by, and she was still here. All the bets that had been made in regard to her stay were past paid. No one put money on the fact that she would stay longer than a month, let alone a week as a glorified valet. Junmyeon, not in so many words, had told everyone else about the war Chief Soo declared on her, and Kyungsoo couldn't fathom the depths of her hardheadedness if the only reason she was staying was to win. So he did his best to ignore her, and tried not to be associated with her. See, at SM there were no secrets. Everyone knew everything. But it was how each person used the information that differed. People knew she and Kyungsoo has history, but up until now, no one had decided to use that against him. It was just how the game was played here. He hated it, but there was nothing he could do but play.

Baekhyun grabbed Harper's hand and pulled her over to EXO. "Guys! Harper is going to eat lunch with us!" He declared, and Kyungsoo wondered how they communicated enough for him to even ask. She seemed to concentrate on the words that were being tossed around as the rest of the boys commented on one thing or another about the resort. It was a test really, to see how much she'd learned. After a moment, all eyes went to her and she visibly gulped. As smug as he wanted to be in that moment, when her eyes met his, he felt like he should throw her a bone. "B-Beautiful." She stumbled over the pronunciation, but the outcome was clear: she passed. At least she knew what they were talking about. Suho seemed much more proud than he should of as he patted her on the shoulder and gestured towards the rec building. A sign of good faith that he wouldn't lead her straight into the ocean. "How long are you gonna act like this?" Kyungsoo turned to Jongin, who was looking at him intently. The other guys started towards the cafeteria with Harper safely at their center. "Act like what?" Kyungsoo said defensively, hanging back from the group. "Like she's the worst thing in the world." Jongin watched as the other members took turns saying something to Harper and giggling when she barely understood. "I'm not." Kyungsoo snapped and readjusted his bag on his shoulder, unhappily defensive. "You refuse to breathe the same air as her most of the time." Jongin pointed out, and started behind the boys. Kyungsoo bit his lip, hating that his position on the matter was pitting him against his brothers. He hurried to Jongin's side and hissed into his ear, "She reckless." Hoping maybe he would sympathize. "And?" Jongin asked instead, and Kyungsoo sighed. He really was alone with the voice of reason. "She should have left when she had the chance." He grunted. But Jongin had the false sense of optimism that most maknae had. "You know...I kind of admire her courage." He commented, not leaving Kyungsoo for his objections. "It's not courage, it's stupidity." D.O. murmured, but Jongin grinned at him. "I don't know...standing up for what you believe in, keeping your word, staying reliable...those seem like pretty respectable traits, don't you think?" Kyungsoo grabbed Jongin's wrist and stopped him. With a little more space between them and those who could overhead, Kyungsoo asked, "What are you getting at?" Jongin wasn't usually one for confrontation, but from the outside, Kyungsoo knew he was being the aggressive one. "I'm just saying," He shrugged, letting Kyungsoo keep his hand, "she's not going anywhere. The least you could do is make peace." Kyungsoo let him go, and Jongin patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Besides hyung, Baekhyun likes her." And with that, he joined the group as they entered the rec center. ~ CEO Kim proudly stood before his empire, the massive crowd of celebrities he'd assembled that all carried his name. They were the biggest company in Korea, the one everyone wanted to be a part of, and he was the head of it all. The cafeteria was as big as a basketball court, with round tables that could seat whole groups (maybe not NCT). Everyone watched as he stood at the head of the room and addressed them. He welcomed them to the SMTown Retreat, and gave them all the basic information they would need. The managers were handling most everything. In fact, CEO Kim wasn't even staying. He'd flown in solely to give this speech, and to make sure his head of security had fallen in line. It may have been an oversight on his part, although he would never admit it, that he didn't realize sooner Harper hadn't been put into the correct rotation. But he wasn't there to cater to the whims of one american, even if he put her there especially. Besides, the situation had been rectified, and he had no doubt that she would be able to withstand whatever backlash Laon had planned for her.

~

Kyungsoo watched Baekhyun lead Harper through the line, pointing out what things were, talking like a motorboat in Korean, there was no way she could keep up. Deep down, he knew Jongin was right, that he should suck it up and keep the peace. She'd saved their lives after all. He shouldn't forget that. But it wasn't enough to make him get up and go translate for them. Baek could make a fool of himself if he wanted. It wasn't too much for Harper to slap him upside the head like she had in LA. When Baek finally lead her back to their table, Kyungsoo caught her shooting glances in his direction, like she was waiting for him to object to her sitting with them. If he was anything, he was competitive, and maybe that would be the best way they could survive this. So when she looked to him, he pulled the chair out for her to sit. Daring her to sit. Everyone else might have missed it, but a small smirk told him she saw his play, and she sat down. No one said anything for a moment. That's not true, Baekhyun never stopped talking, but they were all skilled at tuning him out. Harper kept her eyes locked on Kyungsoo's, playing chicken to see who would look away first. "Ooooh Harper, I know he's pretty but you really shouldn't stare!" Baekhyun cried, and she cracked a smile. Kyungsoo looked away, and she won. Both the staring contest, and his compromise. They'd find a way to live with each other. It wasn't like they had much choice. The rest of the boys joined in the teasing, and pretty soon, it was comfortable. They ate their lunch and talked about the sessions they had planned for the afternoon. There was no time to stop and sight see. It was straight to the grind day one. They could see the beach later.

Do These Tacos Taste Funny to You? (Whumptober 2020)

Summary: After a visit to a food festival, Sam is stricken by a mysterious ailment.

* * *

Sam thanked the cashier as she handed him his salad, poking a couple of bills into the tip jar with his free hand. He and Dean were investigating some weird omens near a college in New Hampshire, and as it turned out the college's international student union was having a food festival to raise money for their event budget.

He took a seat at an empty table and popped open the salad container to admire the brightly-colored vegetables for a moment. They were obviously farm-fresh, not from the produce section at the supermarket. The dressing was a homemade vinaigrette, too, and there was even a little box of croutons made from toasted rye bread.

“This place is awesome,” Dean announced as he settled into the seat across from Sam.

Sam wrinkled his nose at his brother's selections. “Really, Dean?”

Dean paused, taco halfway to his mouth. “What?” He had, predictably, gone for the greasiest and least-healthy options. Sam could see a plate of three more street tacos loaded up with greasy steak and sour cream, a basket of fried cheese curds, another basket of bite-sized spring rolls, and a cup of espresso.

“I can hear your arteries hardening,” Sam complained as he prepared his salad. “You should really watch what you eat.”

“Spring rolls have cabbage,” Dean retorted around a mouthful of taco. “That's a vegetable.”

“Yeah, a fried vegetable.” Honestly, why was he even trying? Cas must be somehow scrubbing his brother's arteries out when no one was looking, that was the only way Dean could have lasted so long without some kind of heart trouble. He speared some spinach and a sliver of red bell pepper and chewed it while considering his case notes.

“Got anything?” Dean asked. He was shoveling fried cheese curds in his mouth now. Sam tried not to watch.

“Couple of unexplained deaths,” Sam shook his head. “Not much here to go on. Might just be a residual haunting, not something intelligent.”

Dean nodded. “Might need to look into this a little further. Might need a couple days here.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he scooped up the last forkful of salad. “We're not hanging around just so you can give yourself heart disease.”

“What? I'm perfectly healthy!” Dean punctuated his words with an expressive, disgusting belch. “So, where to next?”

* * *

Luckily, the collage had local history dating back to the town's founding in its archive. He tore off half his list and passed it off to Dean, ignoring his brother's griping about not having a computer to go through.

The town's newspapers were in thick, heavy binders that sent up a cloud of dust when Sam dropped one on the table. He waved away the dust with one hand, the other hand creeping toward his stomach to press against the discomfort there. Sometimes watching Dean eat was enough to gross even Sam out, despite the gruesome horrors of their everyday lives.

He flipped through the pages and noted down anything that might need further research, nearly doubling over from the sudden, sharp pains in his stomach. Maybe the dressing hadn't agreed with him—there had been some unusual spices in it.

“I got nothing,” Dean announced, dropping two more of the heavy binders next to Sam's. “You sure we should be looking here? This place doesn't exactly have a long history of ghost activity.

Sam's stomach churned and he swallowed hard. “It could be something recent stirred up a spirit that was mostly at rest.”

“Yeah, well, doesn't seem like it.” Dean sat down in a chair a few spaces down the table from Sam and swiveled around to prop his feet up on the table. “Hey, let's hit that festival again. I think the taco cart was gonna make churros this afternoon.”

Sam clamped a hand over his mouth and lurched for the nearby trashcan, barely making it before he began to retch. Stomach cramping, arms quivering, he crumpled to his knees and hung over the plastic receptacle as his body tried to wring itself inside-out.

He started when someone touched him on the back, then realized it was just Dean resting a hand on his shoulder. Sam tried to say something, maybe tell his brother to stand clear, but he couldn't turn away from the trashcan long enough to get a single word out.

“What's gotten into you, Sammy?” Dean murmured, rubbing across Sam's shoulders. It was such a familiar gesture, from a time when stomach bugs were still scarier than monsters and Dad was never home to hold his hair back (metaphorically). “Well...or what's coming out of you.”

Sam let out a groan of dismay that quickly turned into another retch. He kept his eyes squeezed shut to avoid the sight of the mess in the can, but the smell hit his nose and he was retching again.

Dean moved away from him, but before Sam could protest his brother's absence the older Winchester was back to swap out the trashcan in front of Sam with an empty one. “Can you hang on while I dump this and pull the car around?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Getting the dirty trashcan out of the way was a big help, but he could still feel his stomach rolling and cramping. He hadn't felt this sick in a long time. This was worse than any hangover nausea; it felt like it whatever part of his body wasn't queasy was burning up.

It felt like hours, but Dean was finally back with a bottle of cold water. “Rinse and spit,” he commanded. Sam tried to obey but that triggered another gag, even though he only had bile left to bring up. “Can you walk?”

Sam nodded, though he wasn't really sure about that. To his relief Dean did most of the work hauling him up to his feet, then pressing the trashcan back into his hands. Walking was horrible. The world tilted and spun around him, and if Dean hadn't had a hold of his arms Sam might have pitched over and lain forever in a pile of his own fluids.

He almost laughed when they got to the car. Dean had dug out a canvas drop cloth to cover the seat in case Sam was sick again, though when his stomach jumped and spun as he sat down it didn't seem like such a ridiculous idea. Sam let out a long, pitiful moan and rested the trashcan on his knees, bending over so his face nearly disappeared into it.

“Not long now, kiddo,” Dean said. His hand was back on Sam's shoulder, rubbing back and forth with a soothing rhythm.

“'M almost forty,” Sam tried to protest.

“Yeah, well, you'll always be a skinny little nerd to me,” Dean teased, ruffling Sam's hair. “You know, if you puked in your hair we have to shave it all off.”

Sam let out another groan at the p-word and curled even tighter over the trashcan. He didn't have the energy to snark back or even give his brother a rude gesture, but he was sure he could save it up for later. When Dean eventually caught the stomach bug, for instance. Revenge would be sweet.

They reached the hotel without much incident, though Sam's stomach had protested a few of the sharper turns. He kept his head over the can long after they'd stopped, not wanting to risk walking the few short feet into their room.

“Come on, Sammy, up you go.”

But Dean was there. Horrible, awful, drill sergeant Dean. He was pitiless as he hauled Sam's dying body out of the passenger seat of the Impala and forced him to walk five or six yards into the comfort of their hotel room.

“Dude, come on,” Dean laughed. “You'll feel better in a real bed, I promise.”

He was probably lying, but Sam had no choice but to follow blindly. The world had narrowed down to the pain in his stomach and the heat in his body as Dean steered him the vast distance from the door of the hotel room to the nearest bed.

Sam flung an arm across his eyes and moaned as Dean fussed around tugging off his boots and loosening his belt. “This sucks.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean's voice was gentle as he patted Sam on the knee. “I think you're running a fever, too. Lemme get you more water.”

Sam tried another groan, but his brother was persistent. Another bottle of water was placed on the nightstand next to his head, with strict instructions to try to drink a few sips now and then to keep his body hydrated. Then, wonder of wonders, Dean placed a cool, damp towel across Sam's forehead.

He was wrong. Dean wasn't a drill sergeant...he was an angel.

“Okay, kiddo, sure,” Dean was laughing again. “Just get some rest.”

* * *

The light in the room was too bright. Sam groaned and flung his arm over his eyes again, the towel that had been on his forehead sliding to the ground.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean called out. Far too cheerfully for someone who'd spent the night in the same room as a guy puking his guts up.

“Just remember you're next,” Sam retorted, waving a hand threatening in his brother's direction. That was one thing about living in such close quarters—what goes around always comes around.

“No, I don't think I am.” Dean sounded positively gleeful this morning.

Sam risked moving his arm to glare up at his brother. “Something you feel like sharing?”

“Just a little piece of news this morning,” Dean waved his phone in Sam's direction. “Seems there were quite a few people hospitalized last night.”

He nearly sat up, but his stomach cramped painfully when he tried so he sank back down in the bed. “What happened?”

“Near as they can tell they all attended the food festival yesterday,” Dean explained. Well, yeah, obviously. That was probably the biggest event in town right now. “More importantly, they all had salads with this delightful vinaigrette dressing.”

The mention of food made Sam groan again and he draped his arm over his eyes. “Don't tell me...”

“Looks like a case of good old food poisoning, Sammy. Guess the tacos were the best choice after all.”

Sam fumbled for the second pillow on his bed and chucked it in the direction of his brother's voice. Dammit. He was never going to live this one down.

The Best Things We Ate This Week (6) added to Google Docs

The Best Things We Ate This Week (6)

London restaurants are back, baby. Well, kind of. Some of them are anyway. And the great thing about restaurants reopening is it means that with each day there are more and more things for you to eat. The bad thing about that is, after three months alone with your fridge, all those options can feel pretty overwhelming. That’s why we’re highlighting the best dishes we’ve had recently, to point you in the right direction. Not ready to eat out just yet? Don’t worry, we’ll be shouting out our favourite delivery and collection options too.

If you’ve eaten something great recently that you want to share with our team, send us an email at [email protected]. Now, onto the dishes.

Sorry—looks like you screwed up that email address

INFATUATION NEWSLETTER Get our newest guides & reviews first,

plus more restaurant intel you won't find anywhere else. ATL ATX BOS CHI LDN LA MIA NYC PHL SF SEA DC Subscribe Smart move. Excellent information will arrive in your inbox soon. Do you have friends and family who also eat food? Enter their emails below and we’ll make sure they’re eating well. (Don’t worry, we won’t subscribe them to our newsletter - they can do that themselves.) Help Your Friends No Thanks Well done. You’re a good person. All good. We still like you. Want to quickly find restaurants on the go? Download The Infatuation app.   THE DISHES  Jake Missing St Mawes Bakery ££££ 9 Marine Parade

Steak pasty

“Like any true abrasive Londoner, I spent the bank holiday weekend in another county, eating local food, drinking local ales, being given the stink eye. The lucky destination this time was St. Mawes, a Sylvanian Families-sized village with a pasty shop right on the harbour, conveniently opposite the pub. I’ve had the steak pasty from the St. Mawes Bakery quite a few times over quite a few years, and it’s an always welcome paperweight for my stomach. The pastry sweats butter, the steak is chunky and pink, and the heavily peppered mix of mushy potatoes, onions (along with occasional rogue carrot) is the ideal partner to a pint of Tribute”.

- Jake Missing, Staff Writer

 One Love Kitchen ££££ 9A Crouch Hill

Jerk chicken wrap

“Lockdown has been an absolute dream for snacking. Lunch? Not so much. There’s minimal incentive to leave the office (your bed) and in the WFH time warp, 12pm quickly becomes 4pm. But this wrap is the best lunch I’ve had since March. You get a serious portion of tender jerk chicken, but the real revelation here is the wrap itself. Despite being packed full of salad, hot jerk chicken, and garlic mayo, it wasn’t soggy in the slightest. A serious winner that will keep you full until dinner. Or your next snack.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

 Pastaio £ £ £ £ Pasta ,  Italian  in  Soho ££££ 19 Ganton St

Watermelon, yellow tomato, feta, chilli, and mint salad

“People might tell you that watermelon is a fruit. I’m no pomologist - yes, that’s a real job - but I disagree. Primarily, watermelon is a state of mind. I’m talking flip-flops and sangria and shamefully napping on lilos. And despite being smack bang in the centre of Soho, Pastaio’s watermelon, feta, and chilli dish put me straight into that pass-me-another-cocktail state of mind. Combine with the prosecco slushie for peak vacation feels.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

 Hoppers - St. Christopher's Place £ £ £ £ Sri Lankan  in  Marylebone ££££ 77 Wigmore Street

Lamb kothu roti

“I’ve always known that I have a weakness for carb-y dishes. Specifically carbs from the bread side of the family. So it’s no surprise that I love roti. And it’s even less of a surprise that I’m still thinking about this lamb kothu roti I had on Tuesday. It’s cooked in some sort of delicious gravy, and mixed with pieces of lamb and onions, and after a single taste the mood changed very quickly from: “sure everyone, take a spoonful, sharing is caring”, to me caring only about how much of it I can fit in my mouth. All worth it.”

- Rianne Shlebak, Editorial Assistant

 Heidi Lauth Beasley Tavolino Bar & Kitchen ££££ 2 More London Riverside

Bucatini ‘cacio e pepe’’

“Those three little words that every human longs to hear. Cacio e Pepe. The people behind handmade pasta spot Bancone have just opened a new all-day Italian restaurant called Tavolino. Or as I like to call it, My New Home. The sauce was super thick, just the way I like it, and there was a proper al dente bite to the bucatini. My breath stank of pepper and it was glorious.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

 Heidi Lauth Beasley Tavolino Bar & Kitchen ££££ 2 More London Riverside

Tagliatelle, spicy nduja, and pork ragu

“If you think I went to Tavolino and just had one pasta, you are sadly mistaken. I have two hands and easy access to two forks. The result: Shoveling this tagliatelle in my mouth between bites of bucatini. The spicy nduja in the pork ragu sneaks up on you and then shouts ‘SURPRISE, I AM BETTER THAN 99% OF LONDON’S OTHER RAGU PASTAS’. Honestly, some of the best multi-tasking I’ve ever done.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

 The Queen of Sheba ££££ 12 Fortess Rd

Awaze ti’bs

“The awaze ti’bs at Queen of Sheba isn’t just one of the best things I’ve eaten this week, it’s immediately become a go-to in my personal repertoire of favourite things to eat in London. Full stop. In the years to come, I won’t sit around, joylessly wondering where to go to satisfy one of my indistinct cravings for spice and flavour. I’ll just head directly to this friendly neighbourhood Ethiopian restaurant in Kentish Town. Once there, I’ll slowly, deliberately, scoop away at this gloriously generous portion of rich and tangy pan-fried lamb, onions, and peppers with spongy injera until I can’t eat any more. Then I’ll eat a little more. And then, finally, I’ll accept their offer to pack it all up for later.”

- Oliver Feldman, Senior Editor

 Jake Missing The Drapers Arms ££££ 44 Barnsbury St

Tea smoked salmon, pickled cucumber, dill, crème fraiche & soda bread

“I come from a family of sharers. More food than feelings, but often both around the dinner table. Entrées with a side of empathy. When we go out to eat it’s a bite for a bite. Each course is treated like a Strictly Come Dancing contestant awaiting its score from the judges, and the other night, at The Drapers Arms, it was my Mum’s salmon that did the sexiest dance. As a natural-born martyr, she made everyone up a bite before having one herself - a rip of soda bread, a dollop of crème fraiche, a wedge of silky smoked salmon, and a dilly pickle for good measure. It waltzed into my mouth. The judges were unanimous: a perfect 10 for the tea smoked salmon.”

- Jake Missing, Staff Writer

 Bright £ £ £ £ Modern European  in  Hackney ££££ 1 Westgate Street

Mortadella sandwich

“As of 11am on the morning of Friday, 14 August, there are no official FCO advisories that prohibit going to Italy. However I don’t feel all that great about unnecessary travel this year. Maybe that’s why the mortadella sandwich at Bright was such a revelation. Paired with an Americano or two, this springy, ham-filled focaccia is a wholly transportive experience. If I’d closed my eyes, I could easily have been in Bologna. Probably. Either way, along with the rest of Bright’s bar menu, it makes their London Fields terrace one of the best spots in town for an aperitivo.”

- Oliver Feldman, Senior Editor

 Kiss The Koala ££££ priory

Friarielli hash

“A pile of bite-sized potato chunks, mixed with sautéed friarielli, and topped off with a fried duck egg. It’s something I could probably - on a very, very good day - muster a passable version of at home. However, this was the first proper plate of food I’ve had in (or just outside) a restaurant since early March. And it was glorious. Don’t let that sound like I’m downplaying it though. Kiss The Koala is a newish café and brunch spot near Alexandra Palace and they hit the sweet-spot of salty, soft, and crunchy Sunday morning eating for me with this. (n.b. the portion of buttermilk fried chicken in the picture above is totally optional, though also advisable.)”

- Oliver Feldman, Senior Editor

 Jake Missing Quo Vadis £ £ £ £ British  in  Soho ££££ 26-29 Dean St

Tomato salad

“The phrase ‘too hot to eat’ isn’t one I really understand. Nobody is ever too hot to eat, you’re just too hot to eat certain things. Maybe it’s because of our climate. We know the cold months better than the hot. So when a 30-odd degree-er comes around, everyone panics. What do we eat? Chilled baked beans? An ice cube dipped in gravy? Sod it, let’s just drink instead. Or, alternatively, eat and drink. Outside. On Frith Street. At Quo Vadis. With a cold beer or a glass of something crispy. All you need then is a plate of sweet tomatoes bathing in oil, topped with finely chopped red onion, and a healthy turn of salt and pepper. It, with bread, is all I want this summer.”

- Jake Missing, Staff Writer

 Madame Pigg ££££ 480 Kingsland Road

Tempura courgette flower, ricotta, and blackberries

“What you have here is what I, a seasoned professional, like to call a shit tonne of textures. Am I this generation’s AA Gill? Definitely. But in all seriousness, this dish is summer on a plate. There’s plenty of crunch and creaminess, and the sharpness from the blackberries will remind you that, yes, you absolutely should have another glass of wine.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

MAP Maison ££££ 321 Kingsland Road

Quetzacoalt cocktail

We ran (walked) in from the rain (it wasn’t raining), desperately in search of sanctuary, safety and maybe, like, a cosmo or something. In a classic game of ‘guess where might still be open’ I came across Map Maison on the Kingsland Road and had a series of excellent cocktails. The gin-heavy Columbia Road cocktail is super fresh, but this tequila number was my favourite. Newsflash: fig liqueur is excellent with fresh lemon and pomegranate.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

Monmouth Coffee The Borough £ £ £ £ Cafe/Bakery  in  London Bridge ££££ 2 Park Street, London SE1 9AB, Southwark

Iced filter coffee

“I’m an aspiring coffee nerd. There. I’ve said it. And I really don’t care if you’re not okay with it. I’ve got all the gear: a grinder, scales, one of those gooseneck kettles, elaborate glassware that I spend half my life trying to keep clean… and I have all of this because last autumn I got hooked on the iced coffee at Walden Woods in Kyoto. It was an instant top five* and I’ve been trying to recreate it ever since. Sadly, even the life-changing ice-making technique of Infatuation NYC Senior Staff Writer and resident cocktail expert, Bryan Kim, plus the unusual abundance of time 2020 has offered up hasn’t helped me get it right. Monmouth’s iced filter coffee however nails it. It might just be the best tasting, most nuanced cup of coffee I’ve ever had in London, and I’m not just saying that because Thursday was my first coffee outing since early March.”

- Oliver Feldman, Senior Editor

*”in case you’re interested, the others include an iced almond-macadamia milk latte from Go Get ’Em Tiger in LA, a very hot petrol station coffee somewhere in Oregon on a very cold morning in October 2016, and, a little closer to home, the nitro at Climpson’s.”

 Jake Missing Pollo Feliz ££££ 13-23 Westgate St

Quesadillas

“The other day I was feeling a bit blue, and that tends to lead me to eating something beige. Walking home and maybe subconsciously, but probably not, my brain took me to Pollo Feliz in Netil Market. Having just eaten a bagel (note: beige), I wasn’t that hungry but also, I can always eat. Their quesadillas are just beans and cheese. Gooey and soft, packed between handmade wheat-flour, pork-fat tortillas. They’re simultaneously rich and light, and I’d eaten both before I crossed the road”.

- Jake Missing, Staff Writer

 Mac And Wild £ £ £ £ British  in  City ££££ 9A Devonshire Square

Deep-fried Mars Bar sundae

“I have a confession - I don’t know why Hot Priest never magically appears when I say this - I had never eaten a deep-fried Mars bar before my recent trip to Mac and Wild. There, I said it. But happily for me, but not my arteries, I am going to be eating a lot more if they all taste this good. I have a suspicion the sheer glory of this dessert was also down to the ice cream and whisky-infused toffee sauce. All in all, a sweet treat for the ages.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

 Coya London £ £ £ £ Peruvian  in  Mayfair ££££ 118 Piccadilly

Crab, tuna, and salmon tacos

“London is home to a lot of things: double-decker buses, overly confident pigeons, and people who pretend they don’t watch Love Island. But decent tacos isn’t one of them, which is why I was so excited about the tacos at Peruvian spot Coya. I had the tuna, crab, and salmon. The crab tacos are the tell-you-I-love-you-on-the-first-date kind of good, but the tuna and salmon are also pretty great. Just get them all.”

- Rianne Shlebak, Editorial Assistant

 Jake Missing The Good Egg £ £ £ £ Middle Eastern  in  Stoke Newington ££££ 93 Church St

Lox & cream cheese bagel

“A few years ago, I tried to get takeaway from The Good Egg. They didn’t offer this, so I was rejected, but a stranger in the queue told me I smelled nice. Location aside, this story isn’t at all related to the lox and cream cheese Montreal bagel I had the other day. Less a slice of pastrami-smoked trout so much as a wedge hacked off, the bagel had some solid schmear going on, and a very welcome handful of capers. The sesame Montreal bagel, said to be denser, was the perfect vehicle.”

- Jake Missing, Staff Writer

 OMBRA ££££ 1 Vyner St

The park picnic for two

“Look, I rarely picnic. If I’ve learnt anything from the picnics of my youth it’s that grass stains suck and the only creature on planet Earth that has the same determination and inner strength as Beyoncé is the common ant. Well, rejoice my fellow picnic pessimists, because Ombra’s park picnic for two has made the whole thing pretty lovely. For 25 quid, you get focaccia, salami, burrata, and more - but the DIY sandwich situation is the real winner of the lot.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

 Mamasons ££££ 32 Newport Court

The bilog

“Hi my name is Rianne, and I’m an ice-cream addict. So much so that I decided the perfect time to try this Filipino spot, that I’d been wanting to visit for months, was on a rainy Sunday. I ordered a bilog (a milk bun filled with ice-cream) and went with the Milo flavour (yes, the chocolate powder). It was basically like eating a pancake filled with ice-cream, what’s not to like?”

- Rianne Shlebak, Editorial Assistant

 Xi'an Impression £ £ £ £ Chinese  in  Highbury ££££ 117 Benwell Rd

Beef biang biang noodles

“If I was playing a game of word association and someone said ‘soulmate’, my instant, brain-snap reaction would be shouting ‘liangpi noodles’. You see, we are very much an item, me and Xi’an’s traditional coldskin. But this week I went rogue and ordered the hand-pulled biang biang noodles instead. They travelled well, the noodles were just the right amount of chewy, and the beef smelt so good that my flatmate pulled the old meerkat air-sniff move when they arrived. Officially my mistress.”

- Heidi Lauth Beasley, Staff Writer

via The Infatuation Feed https://www.theinfatuation.com/london/guides/best-dishes-of-the-week-london Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://trello.com/userhuongsen

Created September 1, 2020 at 08:42PM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

Jon

You are as hopeless as any boys I have ever trained," Ser Alliser Thorne announced when they had all assembled in the yard. "Your hands were made for manure shovels, not for swords, and if it were up to me, the lot of you would be set to herding swine. But last night I was told that Gueren is marching five new boys up the kingsroad. One or two may even be worth the price of piss. To make room for them, I have decided to pass eight of you on to the Lord Commander to do with as he will." He called out the names one by one. "Toad. Stone Head. Aurochs. Lover. Pimple. Monkey. Ser Loon." Last, he looked at Jon. "And the Bastard." Pyp let fly a whoop and thrust his sword into the air. Ser Alliser fixed him with a reptile stare. "They will call you men of Night's Watch now, but you are bigger fools than the Mummer's Monkey here if you believe that. You are boys still, green and stinking of summer, and when the winter comes you will die like flies." And with that, Ser Alliser Thorne took his leave of them. The other boys gathered round the eight who had been named, laughing and cursing and offering congratulations. Halder smacked Toad on the butt with the flat of his sword and shouted, "Toad, of the Night's Watch!" Yelling that a black brother needed a horse, Pyp leapt onto Grenn's shoulders, and they tumbled to the ground, rolling and punching and hooting. Dareon dashed inside the armory and returned with a skin of sour red. As they passed the wine from hand to hand, grinning like fools, Jon noticed Samwell Tarly standing by himself beneath a bare dead tree in the corner of the yard. Jon offered him the skin. "A swallow of wine?" Sam shook his head. "No thank you, Jon." "Are you well?" "Very well, truly," the fat boy lied. "I am so happy for you all." His round face quivered as he forced a smile. "You will be First Ranger someday, just as your uncle was." "Is," Jon corrected. He would not accept that Benjen Stark was dead. Before he could say more, Haider cried, "Here, you planning to drink that all yourself?" Pyp snatched the skin from his hand and danced away, laughing. While Grenn seized his arm, Pyp gave the skin a squeeze, and a thin stream of red squirted Jon in the face. Haider howled in protest at the waste of good wine. Jon sputtered and struggled. Matthar and Jeren climbed the wall and began pelting them all with snowballs. By the time he wrenched free, with snow in his hair and wine stains on his surcoat, Samwell Tarly had gone. That night, Three-Finger Hobb cooked the boys a special meal to mark the occasion. When Jon arrived at the common hall, the Lord Steward himself led him to the bench near the fire. The older men clapped him on the arm in passing. The eight soon-to-be brothers feasted on rack of lamb baked in a crust of garlic and herbs, garnished with sprigs of mint, and surrounded by mashed yellow turnips swimming in butter. "From the Lord Commander's own table," Bowen Marsh told them. There were salads of spinach and chickpeas and turnip greens, and afterward bowls of iced blueberries and sweet cream. "Do you think they'll keep us together?" Pyp wondered as they gorged themselves happily. Toad made a face. "I hope not. I'm sick of looking at those ears of yours." "Ho," said Pyp. "Listen to the crow call the raven black. You're certain to be a ranger, Toad. They'll want you as far from the castle as they can. If Mance Rayder attacks, lift your visor and show your face, and he'll run off screaming." Everyone laughed but Grenn. "I hope I'm a ranger." "You and everyone else," said Matthar. Every man who wore the black walked the Wall, and every man was expected to take up steel in its defense, but the rangers were the true fighting heart of the Night's Watch. It was they who dared ride beyond the Wall, sweeping through the haunted forest and the icy mountain heights west of the Shadow Tower, fighting wildlings and giants and monstrous snow bears. "Not everyone," said Halder. "It's the builders for me. What use would rangers be if the Wall fell down?" The order of builders provided the masons and carpenters to repair keeps and towers, the miners to dig tunnels and crush stone for roads and footpaths, the woodsmen to clear away new growth wherever the forest pressed too close to the Wall. Once, it was said, they had quarried immense blocks of ice from frozen lakes deep in the haunted forest, dragging them south on sledges so the Wall might be raised ever higher. Those days were centuries gone, however; now, it was all they could do to ride the Wall from Eastwatch to the Shadow Tower, watching for cracks or signs of melt and making what repairs they could. "The Old Bear's no fool," Dareon observed. "You're certain to be a builder, and Jon's certain to be a ranger. He's the best sword and the best rider among us, and his uncle was the First before he . . . " His voice trailed off awkwardly as he realized what he had almost said. "Benjen Stark is still First Ranger," Jon Snow told him, toying with his bowl of blueberries. The rest might have given up all hope of his uncle's safe return, but not him. He pushed away the berries, scarcely touched, and rose from the bench. "Aren't you going to eat those?" Toad asked. "They're yours." Jon had hardly tasted Hobb's great feast. "I could not eat another bite." He took his cloak from its hook near the door and shouldered his way out. Pyp followed him. "Jon, what is it?" "Sam," he admitted. "He was not at table tonight." "It's not like him to miss a meal," Pyp said thoughtfully. "Do you suppose he's taken ill?" "He's frightened. We're leaving him." He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he'd given her Needle. "Once we say our words, we'll all have duties to attend to. Some of us may be sent away, to Eastwatch or the Shadow Tower. Sam will remain in training, with the likes of Rast and Cuger and these new boys who are coming up the kingsroad. Gods only know what they'll be like, but you can bet Ser Alliser will send them against him, first chance he gets." Pyp made a grimace. "You did all you could." "All we could wasn't enough," Jon said. A deep restlessness was on him as he went back to Hardin's Tower for Ghost. The direwolf walked beside him to the stables. Some of the more skittish horses kicked at their stalls and laid back their ears as they entered. Jon saddled his mare, mounted, and rode out from Castle Black, south across the moonlit night. Ghost raced ahead of him, flying over the ground, gone in the blink of an eye. Jon let him go. A wolf needed to hunt. He had no destination in mind. He wanted only to ride. He followed the creek for a time, listening to the icy trickle of water over rock, then cut across the fields to the kingsroad. It stretched out before him, narrow and stony and pocked with weeds, a road of no particular promise, yet the sight of it filled Jon Snow with a vast longing. Winterfell was down that road, and beyond it Riverrun and King's Landing and the Eyrie and so many other places; Casterly Rock, the Isle of Faces, the red mountains of Dorne, the hundred islands of Braavos in the sea, the smoking ruins of old Valyria. All the places that Jon would never see. The world was down that road . . . and he was here. Once he swore his vow, the Wall would be his home until he was old as Maester Aemon. "I have not sworn yet," he muttered. He was no outlaw, bound to take the black or pay the penalty for his crimes. He had come here freely, and he might leave freely . . . until he said the words. He need only ride on, and he could leave it all behind. By the time the moon was full again, he would be back in Winterfell with his brothers. Your half brothers, a voice inside reminded him. And Lady Stark, who will not welcome you. There was no place for him in Winterfell, no place in King's Landing either. Even his own mother had not had a place for him. The thought of her made him sad. He wondered who she had been, what she had looked like, why his father had left her. Because she was a whore or an adulteress, fool. Something dark and dishonorable, or else why was Lord Eddard too ashamed to speak of her? Jon Snow turned away from the kingsroad to look behind him. The fires of Castle Black were hidden behind a hill, but the Wall was there, pale beneath the moon, vast and cold, running from horizon to horizon. He wheeled his horse around and started for home. Ghost returned as he crested a rise and saw the distant glow of lamplight from the Lord Commander's Tower. The direwolf s muzzle was red with blood as he trotted beside the horse. Jon found himself thinking of Samwell Tarly again on the ride back. By the time he reached the stables, he knew what he must do. Maester Aemon's apartments were in a stout wooden keep below the rookery. Aged and frail, the maester shared his chambers with two of the younger stewards, who tended to his needs and helped him in his duties. The brothers joked that he had been given the two ugliest men in the Night's Watch; being blind, he was spared having to look at them. Clydas was short, bald, and chinless, with small pink eyes like a mole. Chett had a wen on his neck the size of a pigeon's egg, and a face red with boils and pimples. Perhaps that was why he always seemed so angry. It was Chett who answered Jon's knock. "I need to speak to Maester Aemon," Jon told him. "The maester is abed, as you should be. Come back on the morrow and maybe he'll see you." He began to shut the door. Jon jammed it open with his boot. "I need to speak to him now. The morning will be too late." Chett scowled. "The maester is not accustomed to being woken in the night. Do you know how old he is?" "Old enough to treat visitors with more courtesy than you," Jon said. "Give him my pardons. I would not disturb his rest if it were not important." "And if I refuse?" Jon had his boot wedged solidly in the door. "I can stand here all night if I must." The black brother made a disgusted noise and opened the door to admit him. "Wait in the library. There's wood. Start a fire. I won't have the maester catching a chill on account of you." Jon had the logs crackling merrily by the time Chett led in Maester Aemon. The old man was clad in his bed robe, but around his throat was the chain collar of his order. A maester did not remove it even to sleep. "The chair beside the fire would be pleasant," he said when he felt the warmth on his face. When he was settled comfortably, Chett covered his legs with a fur and went to stand by the door. "I am sorry to have woken you, Maester," Jon Snow said. "You did not wake me," Maester Aemon replied. "I find I need less sleep as I grow older, and I am grown very old. I often spend half the night with ghosts, remembering times fifty years past as if they were yesterday. The mystery of a midnight visitor is a welcome persion. So tell me, Jon Snow, why have you come calling at this strange hour?" "To ask that Samwell Tarly be taken from training and accepted as a brother of the Night's Watch." "This is no concern of Maester Aemon," Chett complained. "Our Lord Commander has given the training of recruits into the hands of Ser Alliser Thorne," the maester said gently. "Only he may say when a boy is ready to swear his vow, as you surely know. Why then come to me?" "The Lord Commander listens to you," Jon told him. "And the wounded and the sick of the Night's Watch are in your charge." "And is your friend Samwell wounded or sick?" "He will be," Jon promised, "unless you help." He told them all of it, even the part where he'd set Ghost at Rast's throat. Maester Aemon listened silently, blind eyes fixed on the fire, but Chett's face darkened with each word. "Without us to keep him safe, Sam will have no chance," Jon finished. "He's hopeless with a sword. My sister Arya could tear him apart, and she's not yet ten. If Ser Alliser makes him fight, it's only a matter of time before he's hurt or killed." Chett could stand no more. "I've seen this fat boy in the common hall," he said. "He is a pig, and a hopeless craven as well, if what you say is true." "Maybe it is so," Maester Aemon said. "Tell me, Chett, what would you have us do with such a boy?" "Leave him where he is," Chett said. "The Wall is no place for the weak. Let him train until he is ready, no matter how many years that takes. Ser Alliser shall make a man of him or kill him, as the gods will." "That's stupid," Jon said. He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. "I remember once I asked Maester Luwin why he wore a chain around his throat." Maester Aemon touched his own collar lightly, his bony, wrinkled finger stroking the heavy metal links. "Go on." "He told me that a maester's collar is made of chain to remind him that he is sworn to serve," Jon said, remembering. "I asked why each link was a different metal. A silver chain would look much finer with his grey robes, I said. Maester Luwin laughed. A maester forges his chain with study, he told me. The different metals are each a different kind of learning, gold for the study of money and accounts, silver for healing, iron for warcraft. And he said there were other meanings as well. The collar is supposed to remind a maester of the realm he serves, isn't that so? Lords are gold and knights steel, but two links can't make a chain. You also need silver and iron and lead, tin and copper and bronze and all the rest, and those are farmers and smiths and merchants and the like. A chain needs all sorts of metals, and a land needs all sorts of people." Maester Aemon smiled. "And so?" "The Night's Watch needs all sorts too. Why else have rangers and stewards and builders? Lord Randyll couldn't make Sam a warrior, and Ser Alliser won't either. You can't hammer tin into iron, no matter how hard you beat it, but that doesn't mean tin is useless. Why shouldn't Sam be a steward?" Chett gave an angry scowl. "I'm a steward. You think it's easy work, fit for cowards? The order of stewards keeps the Watch alive. We hunt and farm, tend the horses, milk the cows, gather firewood, cook the meals. Who do you think makes your clothing? Who brings up supplies from the south? The stewards." Maester Aemon was gentler. "Is your friend a hunter?" "He hates hunting," Jon had to admit. "Can he plow a field?" the maester asked. "Can he drive a wagon or sail a ship? Could he butcher a cow?" "No." Chett gave a nasty laugh. "I've seen what happens to soft lordlings when they're put to work. Set them to churning butter and their hands blister and bleed. Give them an axe to split logs, and they cut off their own foot." "I know one thing Sam could do better than anyone." "Yes?" Maester Aemon prompted. Jon glanced warily at Chett, standing beside the door, his boils red and angry. "He could help you," he said quickly. "He can do sums, and he knows how to read and write. I know Chett can't read, and Clydas has weak eyes. Sam read every book in his father's library. He'd be good with the ravens too. Animals seem to like him. Ghost took to him straight off. There's a lot he could do, besides fighting. The Night's Watch needs every man. Why kill one, to no end? Make use of him instead." Maester Aemon closed his eyes, and for a brief moment Jon was afraid that he had gone to sleep. Finally he said, "Maester Luwin taught you well, Jon Snow. Your mind is as deft as your blade, it would seem." "Does that mean . . . " "It means I shall think on what you have said," the maester told him firmly. "And now, I believe I am ready to sleep. Chett, show our young brother to the door."