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shirohige-pirates · 6 months

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Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 15: Dinner

“The tea good?” You question, finishing up your prep as you work to make dinner for you and Marco.

The drive into work had gone smoothly. Marco had arrived a little early, and in your nervous state you’d been ready for a good thirty minutes before he even arrived. You’d used the extra minutes to grab coffees on the way into the office, four for you, and six for him. Mondays at Phoenix Rising Animal Hospital tended to be an all hands on deck kind of day, and Marco wanted to make sure no one was left out.

The quick kiss he’d landed on your cheek had flustered you enough that even by the time you’d gotten to your cubicle Bon-chan had asked if you were running a fever. Thankfully no one else had been in by that point, so you didn’t have to deal with Buggy or Ivankov.

You’d both opted to skip meeting for lunch - your schedules weren’t aligning well, and also you needed to stop at the grocer’s before heading home. You wanted to cook dinner for Marco to show your gratitude for the rides to and from work, but to do that you’d need some actual food in your house. Ever since your car had broken down you’d been mostly ordering in.

“It is,” Marco answers. He’s sitting at the breakfast bar watching you cook, after making sure you’d be comfortable with him doing so. He’s still in his scrubs, but honestly he looks good whatever he wears, so you’re not complaining. “You make good coffee too.” He muses.

“The good coffee was a necessity, the good tea’s a passion.” You reply, continuing your work. “Admittedly, my cooking follows after the coffee more than the tea, so I hope it’ll be palatable. If it’s bad we can just order in.” You offer.

“What’re we having? You bought so much I wasn’t sure what was for tonight.”

“Poached white fish and dirty rice.” You reply, grinning.

“Dirty rice?”

Your grin splits into a wide smile. “I knew you were going to focus on that. Wild grain rice with finely diced vegetables. It looks dirty.” You shrug. “I’m sure it has some reasonable name, but that’s what I call it.”

“Anything planned for dessert?” He prompts. You can feel your skin warming up. It’s the way he said it, more than anything else. The effect of trying to sound nonchalant in a tone that carries a little too much weight to be truly innocuous.

You swallow, pressing your lips together and doing your best to focus on cooking. “Sadly, I didn’t get the chance to buy anything for dessert.” There’s a moment’s silence between the two of you before you reach a safe break in your cooking and turn to face him. “Besides, something like that, I think I’d rather surprise you.”

“Oh?”

Smiling you nod, walking out of the kitchen and around to his side of the breakfast bar. He turns toward you, letting you step between his legs. Large warm hands slip around your waist, holding onto your without pulling you close just yet.

“I just think the presentation is as important as the actual dessert, and if you know beforehand it takes something away from it.” You reply, not really clarifying much of anything.

“And if I want something sweet right now, yoi?” He pulls a little, bringing you closer.

“I’m hardly made of sugar.” You muse, letting yourself be pulled in. The height of the breakfast bar stool puts him pretty level with you, just a little lower. The effect of him looking up at you with those hooded and relaxed eyes of his is making your blood rush.

How he manages to look so calm despite it all would be frustrating if it wasn’t so hot.

“You taste plenty sweet to me, pretty bird.” He assures you, hands pulling you in closer, pressing your chest against his as he nuzzles into your neck a little. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself a little, gasping as greedy lips kiss against your neck.

“Sound sweet too,” he muses, words hot against your skin.

“Please,” you gasp, fingers flexing against his shoulders as kisses track down all the spots that make you moan.

Teeth graze your earlobe, tongue against your neck briefly before he kisses your neck again. “Please what, pretty bird?”

“Haaa, I want you to stay.” You huff in frustration, turning toward him and losing all sense of your next words as his lips met yours. A firm hand lost in your hair tilts your head and you part your lips for him, letting him deepen the kiss.

“I want to stay, yoi.” He admits, gaze finding yours for a moment.

“I know.” You lean forward, closing the small distance between you both and letting your kisses drift away from his lips and down the line of his jaw. You could hear and feel the heavy breaths escaping him as you kissed and nipped against his neck.

“I wanna mark you.” You whisper, staying by his neck. You can feel him tense a little.

“Sure.” He says softly. “As you wish, pretty bird.”

The desire overtakes any sense to ask if he’s sure, and you lean in, licking and kissing his neck until you feel him relax a little. Sucking on the tender skin harshly you feel his hands tense against you as hissed moan escapes him. After a couple seconds you let up, licking the bright red, sure to bruise, mark and leaving a few soft kisses around it.

“You… didn’t hold back.” He husks, voice heavy and face flushed.

Sorry,” you say the word, but it’s hard to actually mean it as your eyes linger, watching with a little surprised as the mark fades before your eyes. “Automatic.” You murmur, and he sighs.

“It just means you can do so to your heart’s content.” He offers in a voice that is practically begging for you to continue.

Marco nuzzles you softly, and you step back. “Let me check on dinner.” Your voice is airy, needy, you don’t want to stop, from the way his eyes follow you it’s obvious he doesn’t want to stop either.

There’s a few minutes of silence between the two of you as you work on dinner and he watches you. You pay a bit more attention to the details than you actually need to, worried that if you look back over at him you’re going to forgo any concern for dinner entirely.

“Dinner tomorrow night as well, right?” He asks after you start to plate your meals.

“Y-yeah.” You answer, wondering idly how you’re going to manage another night of this. Maybe you can get same-night delivery on a chastity belt or something.

“Will we be picking up your car before or after?”

“Neither. It might be in the garage already, honestly.” You admit. “The opener was in the car, so Kid’s plan was to just drop it off when it’s done.”

“It might be in there already?” He questions. “Do you want to go see?”

“Mm… no, I don’t think so.” You admit with a small smile. “It’s Schroedinger’s garage right now, and as long as I don’t look there is no car, and if there’s no car, then I’ll see you in the morning.”

You nod your head toward the dinning table, carrying two plates out of the kitchen as Marco gets up. There’s a pleased smile on his face at your words, and once you set the plates down he pulls one of the chairs out for you.

“Allow me.”

“Such a gentleman.” You muse. “You’re going to spoil me, getting me used to treatment like this.”

“If the world was at all fair,” he says, sliding your chair in easily. “You would’ve been spoiled long before I came along, yoi.”

You can feel your face heating up, and you clear your throat. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly mistreated… or um…” Looking down at the food you’re certain you’re lit up like a Christmas tree. “I’m beginning to think what I was doing before now wasn’t, um, dating, really. So much as, I think the kids call it, hooking up.”

“The kids.” He repeats, chuckling as he sits down. “You are one of the kids.”

You stick out your tongue. “Look here, Eldest Brother of Thirty-Seven, you were probably calling people whipper snappers before you were old enough to legally drink.”

Marco laughs happily. “You’re probably not wrong, yoi.”

Your amusement fades a little. “Did you… I mean, did you get a childhood?” As soon as the question leaves your lips you put your hand up. “No, wait, that’s - that’s a little rude on my part, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s alright.” He reassures you, grabbing a bit of fish. His brow raise a little and your focus turns to your plate and you grab a quick bite, unsure if his reaction is distaste or not. Between your haste and concern you can’t really seem to actually taste it, and for a second you’re worried you messed something up while you had been flirting with him.

“That’s,” he swallows, tongue running over his lips briefly. “Really good.” He admits, taking another bite.

Relief washed over you and your brain resumed working again. It was good, probably the best the dish had turned out for you. Not that it was bad after you’d effectively mastered it, but it was just a little bit tastier this time.

Or maybe it was the company.

#Birds of a Feather #Marco x reader #x reader #reader insert #marco the phoenix #marco the pinepple #modern au

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i-am-beckyu · 1 year

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BRICK! I AM SO FLIPPEN LUCKY!

I accidentally thought I deleted your ask which instead got posted and then deleted, but I got lucky and had copied the questions to answer qwq. I've been using control z too much... So thank you thank you for all the questions on Jornos and here you are! (Sorry I took so long to answer lol) @brick-a-doodle-do i can see a lot of awkward conversations between tommy and emduo + wil. like a lot of sarcastic comments towards tommy that have a secret meaning to tommy! lots of tensing up at the softest of questions

Yesssssssssssssssssssss! Many many awkward times! Tommy just a lil anxious boi :3

for the thing with tommy knowing things he shouldn't, how about a scene with tommy accidentally humming a tune he'd heard wilbur play before? maybe even accidentally murmuring the lyrics while wilbur only plays the melody! :0000 *yoinks this idea for later* Oh I likes this a lot >:3

do you have any design ideas for tommy's borrower home? is it very innovative with crazy cool designs, or something more basic that he'd thrown together with whatever he could find? I have many ideas for his home but nothing specifically made or set yet. Been thinking about that a lil bit atm lol. While I don't have any designs for Tommy's room, I have made a floor plan of the Crafts house to make sure I'm being coherent to the story and scenes so have that!

how does tommy react to the internet? does he find a means to conquer it after seeing how intimidating it is, or does he immediately fall victim to social media? maybe he finds some good ole schlatt videos and bonds over them with wilbur! Oh he's infatuated with it. He loved to try and watch Tv of Beans in the past but actually gaining access to the internet blew his mind! Learning so many new things and not understanding how some stuff was possible was insane for him! And Canon! Def bonds with Wilbur over the old vids!

does wilbur absolutely drag him into the world of music? i can see wilbur making a mini-him with his new younger brother! 100%. To Wilbur, Tommy is free blank slate brother. Time to educate the child in the world of music and properly!! (as well as everything else lol)

in a lot of fics, techno has swords n knives pinned up on his walls or leaning against his walls, do you follow through with that here? lalalala *yoinks another idea* :3

that also leads me to the question does tommy, as a borrower, find this threatening or interesting? and similarly, when he's a human, does he struggle with hiding his interest/fear of them depending on his borrower-selves reaction? Boi is both terrified and drawn to the blades. There's one sword displayed on top of the book shelf that Tommy often likes to marvel at. It's part of why Tommy tried to go for the craft knife that Techno left out on the table when he first moved in because he wanted to wield a sword like that too.

i bet tommy might have a strong reaction to flavorful things, especially something spicey, sour, or even really sweet, since borrower's grow up mainly on grain with the occasional addition of fruit or dessert. does this spark interest between emduo + wilbur or do they just bond with him and call him a child over it? I think I mentioned in a previous ask that Tommy just goes into sugar rush overload when he gets access to sugar so in a similar way, he'd have an extreme reaction to spicy, sour or bitter things too. If given any of those things tho, I'm pretty sure once comfy with the rest of sbi, would scream: ARE YOU TRYING TO POISON ME?!?!?

tommy using his skills as a human! i can see him offering to fix the craft's ripped clothing with his sewing skills orrr maybe they go hiking or smth and tommy's climbing instincts kick in and he just fucking climbs a tree like it's nothing lol Yesssssssssssss. That was one of the only things he could do at the colony and not get into trouble for it. Often he'd hide out and fix clothing for others so he loves to get his hands on stuff to mend for sbi. When they notice this, they actually get him proper sewing equipment and nice fabric for Tommy to experiment with and he goes wild with new clothes and bags. He adores it!

on the note of instincts, how are tommy's instincts? i always see borrowers listening to their instincts more than humans but still not always listening to them. does he got like really good reflexes that earn him the nickname spiderinnit? (to which he is extremely confused cause huh? maybe that leads to a movie marathon :0) Brick. How? How are you having all the amazing ideas?? *yoinks this too* He is spiderinnit damn it and they watch every spider man movie. So Tommy's instincts are a bit nuts atm. Normally his first thought when in danger is to run and get back to the walls or somewhere safe, but when he shifts he is so out of it, he kinda just shuts down because he can't just run back to the walls. Later on when he kinda works out the sizeshifting abilities, it takes a lot of will power to not let himself just run from everything and hide. But he will often react a lot to footsteps of people coming or animals because he still semi associates it with danger.

birthdays! i don't know about you or this au, but i like the idea of borrower's not really celebrating birthdays, and even if they do not every single one. so what's tommy's reaction to possibly having a party thrown for him? Sometimes Individual bdays are celebrated within small family's when borrowers see fit, say they turn 1 or 13 but yeah most of the time bdays aren't really celebrated. The celebrations are more of a celebration of surviving to an important point in life, not making it another year older in age. (that makes no sense becky. Good job :'D) Colonies will usual celebrate a borrowers coming of age for all the borrowers going on their first successful borrowing trips (of course Tommy isn't allowed at those though)

^^ on a similar note, does tommy know his own birthday? and if he doesn't, how the hell do the craft's react to that ?? He does not. He was abandoned by the colony and they kind of just guessed he was like 2ish when found so they make his bday just sometime in April because that was the time he was found. Tommy doesn't even really think about not having a specific day till he's asked and the Crafts are just so shocked that this kid has probably never had a party in his life and literally throw him a party within the next few days. Tommy is just so touched that he decides the date is April 9th because that was the date. (Even if it was actually *enter different month here*)

I have no idea what else you said about the ask but at least I had the questions so thank you for sending them in and your continued interest in the story! Jornos chapter 2 is almost done and then just needs to be proof read so keep your eyes peeled :3

#brick my beloved <3 #beckyu answers #I had a heart attack when I thought I’d lost access to the questions qwq #just out of reach but never out of sight au #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt

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americanforecast · 6 months

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How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast that Pleases Everyone: Meat Eaters, Vegetarians, and Vegans Alike

How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast that Pleases Everyone: Some ideas for making sure vegetarians and vegans have plenty of choices: How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast STUFFING MASHED POTATOES SALAD SOUPS ROASTED AND BAKED VEGETABLES GRAIN SALADS DESSERTS How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast that Pleases Everyone: FAQ's How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast that Pleases Everyone: How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast that Pleases Everyone: I know there are some Thanksgiving gatherings without a vegan or a vegetarian at the table, but these days that seems like more of an anomaly than the norm. We have had vegetarians at our Thanksgiving table my entire life. My sister, Lizzie, and her daughters are vegetarian and now vegan, and my mother became a vegetarian later in life. There are plenty of folks at the table who want to enjoy the turkey and all those trimmings, but a significant number of others are interested only in the vegetarian or vegan sides. And there is no way anyone leaves a Workman family Thanksgiving anything less than full and happy, so we Bring It for everyone. But cooking for a crowd on Thanksgiving is already challenging enough, and no one wants to make a whole lot of extra dishes. So, the name of the game is adaptability and streamlining. The short of it is that we make plenty of meat-free sides, including some that are substantial enough to feel entrée-like for the non-meat eaters. And then we make modifications to certain dishes to make them vegan if possible. Some ideas for making sure vegetarians and vegans have plenty of choices: How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast STUFFING I make the base of the stuffing vegetarian, with vegetable broth. Then I separate part of it out into a smaller baking pan for the vegetarians, and drizzle some of the turkey pan juices over the larger pan of stuffing. If you want to make the smaller pan of stuffing vegan, use vegan butter to saute the vegetables. You also might consider using vegan sausage or other crumbled meat substitute in the stuffing. Seitan, a wheat gluten-based product, is also a good addition to vegan stuffings. MASHED POTATOES We boil up a whole lot of potatoes and mash them or put them through a ricer or food mill. Then, as we did with the stuffing, we separate the potatoes into two pots. One gets blended up with milk, cream, butter, etc., and one gets whipped to fluffiness with plant-based milk, olive oil and vegan butter. My sister skips the olive oil, but adds some vegan sour cream. Options! SALAD While a pile of leafy greens is fine, you can make salad a much more robust part of the menu. Consider adding some roasted vegetables, pumpkin or sunflower seeds, nuts (providing there are no nut allergies!), legumes (chickpeas are nice), and fresh or dried fruit. Adding some cooked whole grains like farro or bulgur wheat also boosts the nutritional value, and adds heft. Homemade croutons crisped up in the oven with olive oil are another good addition. SOUPS We usually make a vegan soup for lunch to inhale while we are cooking for dinner, but you might think about offering soup as part of the main event. Soups are so easy to make vegetarian or vegan. Think about mushroom barley (our favorite), split pea, lentil tomato, curried pumpkin soup, or butternut squash soup. Just remember to keep the broth vegetarian and sub in vegan products for any dairy ingredients. Offer any non-vegan garnishes on the side. ROASTED AND BAKED VEGETABLES Roasted vegetables are the perfect crossover side, and if you roast them with olive oil or another cooking oil, they are naturally vegan. Make sure to season well with salt and pepper, and add springs of fresh herbs like rosemary, thyme or sage. Also consider baked stuffed vegetables, such as acorn squash with a vegan stuffing or rice or grain mixture. Read More:- Homemade Caramel Apples Bring Joyful Fun to Halloween Candy GRAIN SALADS I love a side-dish-main-dish hybrid, and grain- and veggie-based one-dish recipes are Thanksgiving heroes. The basic idea is to blend up some whole grains with some cooked vegetables and/or legumes, and add an olive oil based dressing. These types of dishes are often great either warm or at room temperature. Think about wild rice, cranberries, scallions, and an orange juice and balsamic vinaigrette. Mushrooms and barley are a hearty combo, as are diced cooked sweet potatoes and quinoa. Vegan Parmesan, cheddar and feta are good cheese choices to add. DESSERTS For the vegetarians, dessert is usually not an issue, but for vegans, it’s tough. You’ll want to make sure to make, purchase or ask someone to bring a vegan option. My sister says the ingredient offerings and recipes for making vegan desserts improve all the time, a marked improvement from even a couple of years ago. Lizzie has been working on her vegan cheesecake for a few years now, and I think this is the year she’s going to perfect it. How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast that Pleases Everyone: More great vegan and vegetarian sides for Thanksgiving Mushroom, Tomato and White Bean Ragout Bulgur Wheat, Sweet Potato and Black Bean Casserole Roasted Lemon Brussels Sprouts Fall Farro and Vegetable Salad Caponata Lentil Salad Katie Workman writes regularly about food. She can be reached at [email protected]. Get more recipes and dinner ideas from The Washington Times food section. How to Create a Thanksgiving Feast that Pleases Everyone: FAQ's Read the full article

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vegi1 · 9 months

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Raw Vegan Diets & Risk of Heart Disease (All Benefits)

The results of various research which have been done in recent years show how people can benefit from a vegan diet, and one of the main health benefits that people can enjoy is not only lower heart disease risk but also to keep balance in weight and cholesterol level.

I am one of those who saved my heart by going raw vegan. When I figured out I have serious heart disease and should change my lifestyle, after doing some research, I ended up with this simple solution “raw vegan diet,” which everyone can do.

Why raw? That is because raw plant-based foods, which are full of nutrients and lack saturated fats, don’t undergo a cooking process and notorious remain healthy without altering their essence.

So without a doubt, you can make the most out of vegans while they remain uncooked.

So, if you want to know more about raw vegan diets & risk of heart disease, stay with me in this article to learn more about it.

At first, I was skeptical- I mean, how could I possibly eat only raw fruits and veggies and still feel satisfied?

But I was desperate, so I gave it a shot. And let me tell you, it was life-changing.

Not only did I start feeling better almost immediately, but my heart issues started to melt away.

I knew I was on to something special.

Turns out, raw veganism can seriously lower your risk of heart disease.

Follow me if you want to know more about the raw vegan diet.

The raw vegan diet belongs to the vegan diet and is one of its subsets. As you know, vegans do not consume animal-based products such as milk, cheese, eggs, fish, or meat.

But a raw vegan diet is more specific than a vegan diet, and they don’t cook or process plant-based foods.

The raw foods for raw vegan fans mean the food is not heated or cooked at over 48°C.

They make their foods using alternative ways such as juicing, soaking, germinating, sprouting, dehydrating, and blending.

The definition of raw vegan can vary for each person. While some people think they can warm their dish to tender the texture, others consider dehydrated foods like cereals, raw bread, and raw desserts.

How much raw food is consumed may also vary from diet to diet. 50–74% of raw foods appear to be the most popular option, according to a 2011 guide to raw vegan diets.

You may come up with this question “Why do raw vegans prefer to eat raw instead of cooking, which makes food tastier?

Well, there are lots of reasons.

The first and foremost reason for that is when you cook foods; it is more likely that you ruin and degrade essential notorious substances of the food and make it unhealthy.

So intaking notorious material can lead to the body’s health, and as a raw vegan, you can take advantage of many health benefits.

Some people do it to be kind to the animals and the planet because they don’t want to hurt or mess up.

And some folks do it for the fun and excitement of trying new stuff and creating recipes.

I know you may think that “Raw veganism is too extreme and it is hard to adhere to this diet” Listen, I get it- it can seem intimidating.

But if I can do it, anyone can. And I promise, the perks are worth it. Let’s see the health benefits of a raw vegan diet to make the right decision.

Boast heart health

Eating raw vegan food is not only good for your heart health but also super good for your heart.

Since a raw vegan diet includes a high amount of fruit and vegetable consumption free of saturated fats, you can benefit from heart health.

According to research reports, once you increase the number of eating plant-based products from 3 to 5 times, you can have 17% less exposure to heart disease risk.

All those fruits, veggies, nuts, seeds, sprouts, grains, and legumes are great for your blood pressure and cholesterol levels. Research shows that vegans with high blood pressure risk are 75% lower than meat-consumer.

Losing weight

Obesity and overweight is the main health issue in many countries, and they are looking for an authentic way to resolve them since many health issues, such as type 2 diabetes and heart disease, followed by overweight and obesity.

The best thing about the raw vegan diet is helping with losing weight. That’s because you eat fewer calories and more fiber than omnivores.

Fiber helps you feel full and satisfied, so you don’t overeat or snack on junk food. Plus, raw foods are more nutritious and energizing than cooked foods, so you have more motivation to exercise and stay active.

The cohort study on people who followed a vegan diet for 3.7 years shows they lost about 9.9-12 Kg weight.

So, by losing weight and mainlining a balance in weight, people would be less likely to be at risk of health issues.

Low risk of diabetes

There is limited research on the impact of raw vegan diets on diabetes risk. Although, a study from 2009 indicates that vegan diets may reduce the risk of type 2 diabetes by almost 50% compared to non-vegetarian diets.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) suggests dietary modifications can lower the risk of diabetes, such as consuming more fruits and non-starchy vegetables, as you can reduce processed foods and trans fats commonly found in baked and fried foods from your diet.

Aid in the digestion system

Adapting to a raw vegan diet can improve your digestion since raw vegan foods are high in fiber, soluble and insoluble fibers.

Insoluble fibers help digestion by adding bulk to the stools, increasing their movement in the gut, and decreasing constipation probability.

On the other hand, soluble fibers feed beneficial bacteria, which are responsible for food breakdown.

And they also, by producing some good nutrients, reduce the likelihood of inflammation in the gut.

Based on this, raw vegans suffer from diseases such as irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), Crohn’s disease, and ulcerative colitis.

Heart disease – Causes & risk factors of it

Let me tell you something I’ve experienced myself – heart disease is no joke.

Heart disease or cardiovascular disease is one of the common diseases among different nations, which has remained one of the serious diseases that can cause thousands of deaths each year. However, there has been a large promotion in treating this disease.

To talk statistically, every 10 minutes, one Australian dies because of heart disease.

And trust me; you should not take it for guarantee because your heart is like your body’s engine – it pumps blood to every nook and cranny, supplying oxygen and nutrients to all your organs and tissues.

I’ve learned from personal experience that there are many factors at play regarding heart disease.

While smoking, high blood pressure, and being overweight can all contribute to heart disease,

And above all, a wrong diet can enhance the risk of coronary heart disease, which should not be overlooked. For example, eating habits associated with high cholesterol can align with CVD.

Plaque build-up in your arteries can impede the blood flow to your heart, making it challenging to function correctly.

This can lead to chest pain, heart attacks, or strokes.

I’ve also found that specific diets, like ones high in meat and animal products, can increase your risk of developing heart disease because of their high levels of saturated and trans fats.

Additionally, arrhythmia can also be a factor in heart disease, causing your heart to pump less blood and leading to symptoms like dizziness or fainting.

Is it enough to know how a wrong diet can lead to a s serious disease such as heart disease?

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olko71 · 1 year

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New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on http://yaroreviews.info/2022/12/christmas-dinner-basics-see-big-price-rises

Christmas dinner basics see big price rises

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By Dearbail Jordan & Lora Jones

Business reporters, BBC News

Christmas dinner will be nearly 22% more expensive this year than in 2021, according to new research for the BBC.

The price of seven key items has risen by £5.36 over a year, with chipolatas – the crucial ingredient in pigs-in-blankets – seeing the steepest jump.

As households grapple with cost of living pressures, many will be looking for cheaper options for the big day.

But the data suggests some standard products have gone up at a faster pace than their “premium” equivalents.

Retail research firm Assosia analysed the average price of seven products across Tesco, Sainsbury’s, Asda, Morrisons and Lidl as well as Aldi click-and-collect.

A basic Christmas dinner – comprising a frozen medium-sized turkey, stuffing balls, Brussels sprouts, roast potatoes, pork chipolatas, onion gravy and mince pies for dessert – will cost £30.03 compared to £24.67 last year.

It perhaps isn’t so surprising that this year’s festive meal will be more expensive given the cost of living is rising at its fastest pace in 40 years.

But the price of every item on our list – except for the divisive Brussels sprout – has increased at more than the rate of inflation, which reached 11.1% in October.

The sharpest price rise on the BBC’s list by far is for chipolatas, up 42.7% to £2.13 for a packet of 12.

Nick Allen, chief executive of the British Meat Processors Association, says that the pork industry has been hit by a succession of cost increases over the past 12 months.

Some of these – energy prices and the cost of grain-based animal feed – are linked to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, while others stem from Brexit, such as a lingering shortage of labour after freedom of movement ended, which has forced wages to rise.

What’s the effect on shoppers been? “I think you’re seeing less demand for the higher value products,” says Mr Allen. “The sort of things that, dare I say, have been titivated up and had quite a bit of value added to them.”

But according to Assosia’s data, the price rise for premium chipolatas, up 15.4%, is not nearly as steep as its cheaper version. But at £2.80 for a packet of 12, the premium range is still more expensive.

It is the same for mince pies and stuffing balls. A standard pack of six ice-topped mince pies is £1.55 compared to a posher version which retails for £2.08. But between last year and this year, the price of standard mince pies has risen by more than 30% while the premium has increased by 16.5%.

For those plumping for a turkey this year, they are likely to spend more for their bird, even if they go for a cheaper frozen option, which Assosia says will cost 21% more than 2021 at £20.23.

While the turkey industry faces many of the same challenges as pork producers, this year it has been particularly blighted by avian flu which has led to hundreds of thousands of birds being culled.

“This is the worst year I’ve ever had to manage,” says Paul Kelly, a free-range turkey farmer whose family established the business in Essex more than 50 years ago. “The challenges we’ve had this year have been unbelievable.”

Some families have decided not to have a turkey this year to keep costs down.

Lisa-Anne Campbell, a mum-of-two from Hertfordshire, says rising energy bills and food prices mean she is cutting back in all areas.

“The costs are extraordinary,” she told the BBC. “I don’t have the heating on to save as much money as I can. I’m only buying Christmas presents for my two children this year.”

Lisa-Anne has epilepsy and no longer drives. Her nearest supermarket on foot is a smaller convenience store so she says it is often a struggle to find any products in the value ranges.

Lisa-Anne Campbell

She says that for Christmas lunch, the family will be swapping roast turkey for chicken and honey-roasted parsnips for frozen peas to keep costs down.

“We’ve got enough to pay for, and Christmas lunch just isn’t the priority right now,” she says.

Some supermarkets, such as Tesco and Asda, are attempting to entice shoppers by selling an all-frozen Christmas dinner for a family of five for £25 and £22 respectively. Even Poundland has got in on the act with its own version.

How to save on Christmas food

Prepping for the festive season in advance not only spreads the cost but could mean big savings on food and drink:

Start with a budget: It helps to plan ahead and think carefully about hidden expenses, like the price of tin foil for roasting a turkey.

Write a food list: Once you’ve got a budget figured out, ask which foods are most important to you and which you might not miss. For example, you might not be willing to give up Christmas pudding, but aren’t that fussed about festive biscuits.

Bargain hunt: Look out for planned offers on retailers’ websites as well as for yellow sticker items which have been reduced.

Use your freezer: Christmas foods that freeze well include butter, meat joints and some cheeses like cheddar.

Join up with friends and family: This means you can buy bigger pack sizes, which are often better value.

More on this story

‘My Christmas lunch will be a microwave meal’

20 October

Why are prices rising so much?

16 November

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ny-3aets · 3 years

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Alright, so I might lose some followers for this, but I don’t care. This is the blog where I get to be honest about my views, so I’m going to be honest about this, too:

“Fatphobia” isn’t fucking real.

Yeah, some people treat others like shit human beings because they jump to conclusions about their circumstances. I’m not denying that. It sucks. However, it doesn’t reach into the territory of some kind of epidemic of oppression because not only is being fat something objective, it’s also not something people are born with and it’s absolutely something that you can change.

”Diet culture“ is only as harmful as you allow it to be if you take everything given to you at face value and don’t do any of your own research or contact someone like a nutritionist or a personal trainer to figure out what specifications work for you. The reason there are hundreds of different diets is because there are hundreds of different people that wrote each of them, and for each of them that specific method works, and it may not work for you.

With that in mind, nothing’s gonna fucking work if you do not commit to it for months or even years. A diet isn’t something you do for a month or two like you’re an actor prepping for a movie and then you get to go back to whatever you were doing before. Maybe if you’re already at a moderate shape and it corresponds to the needs of a new sport you‘re pursuing, it might, but for overall change at a casual pace, this isn’t how it works. You pursue a diet as in, that is your diet now. That is what you eat, period.

Your unhealthy codependency on unhealthy foods because they’ve trained your brain into assuming that they are vital in bringing you comfort and joy is exactly that — unhealthy, codependent behavior. No diet is extreme for asking you to give up desserts or extremely calorie-rich foods — being able to do this means maturing enough to understand that food is just that — food. It’s an energy source, nothing more, nothing less. Whether or not you choose to still eat unhealthy food “every once in a while” is entirely your choice because it’s your body and you can choose what you do with it, but in potentially compromising a diet you‘ve selected, you have absolutely no place to say that a diet does or doesn’t work.

When you start pursuing any diet specifically in order to lose weight however, you need to be at a calorie deficit. This, once again, takes some independent research as well as arithmetic to understand how much of a calorie deficit is right for you, depending on how active your lifestyle is. This isn’t me taking the high ground and pretending to be something I’m not. This is just a fact.

Not all forms of exercise work for everyone. Either go into the gym and obsessively (although safely) try everything for a two-week period at a time, or do intense research, and, if you can afford it (and I’m positive that there are online ones that will offer their services for free or discounted prices from an in-person gym) hire a personal trainer. Hiring a trainer doesn’t negate your research, however — question everything she says, look it up at home, see if there are opinions of other trainers online (YouTube has an entire hub of these guys).

Yes, there are cases in which people have genetic disorders which make it nearly impossible for them to lose weight. Those are A) rare and B) vary in degree of hinderance, meaning in certain circumstances there will absolutely be tons of research right at your fingertips to find a way to maneuver around it.

Yes, the BMI rating is a joke, specifically for people with extreme amounts of muscle mass (as muscle is heavier than fat), but I think you know if you look like Dwayne Johnson or you can achieve some of the same shit as a Sumo wrestler or a Siberian grandma. Either way it’s a mostly arbitrary number, although it can be a rough guide of where you “should” be.

Yes, there are people out there that are fat by societal standards but are more than capable of achieving extreme physical feats. Most of the people competing in throwing events at the Olympics or Strongman events look very different from the hypertrophied Greek statues of bikini competitions. I don’t have to tell you that this requires an extreme amount of training and dedication (and perhaps a winning ticket of the genetic lottery), but if it’s something you achieve, more power to you; I don‘t care.

I am not calling fat people lazy. Anyone can be lazy.

I am not calling fat people selfish. Anyone can be selfish.

I am not calling fat people terrible or disgusting or worthless or whatever the fuck else you want to extract from this because I decided to look you in the eye and tell you that your excuses suck.

Whether or not you’re fat doesn’t determine your worth as a human being, however, being fat, 9/10 times is something you can control and something you can work with. Finding a way to lose weight safely and effectively is something that takes years and years of trial and error and the negative psychological effects of what you see online are no one’s problem except your own — take everything with a grain of salt and do your own research instead of pretending that the world is out to get you. If you feel that people’s posts promoting something that works for them just fine is somehow a personal attack on you, I think it’s time to evaluate your relationship with the online media sphere at large, methinks.

I’m not a personal trainer, I’m not a nutritionist, I’m not going to tell you what to do, I’m not gonna look up and evaluate every single diet plan and workout regimen known to man — I already did it for myself, I spent the sweat and tears on it for the last five years of my life, and I know what works for me. I cannot tell you what is going to work for you and I cannot tell you that losing weight is something you must do but I can tell you that there is something that will work for you, if you want to lose weight. You just aren’t looking hard enough.

While at the end of the day, I don’t care what people do because it’s not my place to control their actions or their words, but I do care when people fucking lie. When they regurgitate the same “diets don’t work!” over every insinuation that maybe there needs to be some kind of change in their food intake, when they so boldly say that they can’t lose weight, that they’ve tried everything, that diet culture is “toxic” because they can’t take the time to impersonally and carefully evaluate whatever is being peddled to them, or when I want a friend or a significant other to support me on a lifestyle that I’m pursuing and they throw me the: “Oh, but you’re so beautiful regardless!” because that shit doesn’t fuck help me, that shit doesn’t make me feel any better and is a worthless statement when I want to approach something objectively and it’s clear that there are set goals with visible obstacles to overcome.

Yes, yes you can lose weight and the people telling you that you can do not wish any kind of harm upon you.

Yeah, we‘re all gonna die in the end anyway, but I don’t want to get there absolutely winded after every staircase I’ve climbed.

#radfem safe #although unrelated #fatphobia I guess #pro fatphobia even?#im sure as hell scared of being fat what the fuck #unpopular opinion 🥳#crucify me ladies #some people cite shit costing more when they’re fat like clothes or whatever as fatphobia?#well yeah homie you need twice as much fucking fabric what do you think it’s gonna cost #this is a hill I can and will die on I don’t care #approach the topic of your physical health objectively or perish

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Ten

Summary: you finally get to visit the boys at the embassy. You and Javier finally get to consummate the relationship.

W/C: 6k+ (I’m sorry it’s the FINALE I had to)

Warnings: language as always, mentions of injury, SMUT! (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation if you squint, p in v sex, Javier Peña is his own warning when it comes to sex

A/N: YOU GUYS. this is it! I’m so honored that you guys love it as much as you do. This series was originally only supposed to be a oneshot but I just fell in love. I’m so glad I get to share it with you all! BIGGEST thanks to @remmysbounty for being my Colombian culture expert in this and helping me with my spanish phrases, listening to my ramblings, and generally being my editor and idea helper.

previous chapter | epilogue

“Ana, phone for you,” Lorena calls as you walk past the nurses’ station.

You nod, but you’re carrying a tray of medicine for a patient. “Can it wait?” You ask.

Lorena asks the person and then looks back up at you. “He says it’s quick.”

Sighing, you walk behind the desk. “Will you take this tray for me? Room 429,” you ask, and she nods dutifully, walking off with it after handing the phone to you. You answer the phone with your name, sitting in the chair Lorena was just in.

“Hey, it’s Steve,” a familiar southern voice says from the other end. You panic for a moment, wondering why he called you, but his voice seems relaxed. It can’t be anything too bad.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask, twirling the phone cord around your finger, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk.

Steve chuckles. “Not much. Just Javi bein’ a dumb fuck.”

“What’s new?” You sigh, but you both know that both of you have affection behind your teasing.

“Exactly,” Steve says in agreement. “Anyway, Javi’s back at work, as you know. The bandage he has is falling off, and he says it’s fine but I know enough from Connie to know that’s not good. She said you get off work soon, would you bring some stuff to the embassy?”

You look at the watch at your wrist. He’s right. You get off at noon, and it’s about 10 right now. “Yeah, of course. Could I bring you guys lunch too? Eat with you?”

There’s a small snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Listen, though, there’s some real shitty guys around here. You’re gonna get hit on and Peña isn’t gonna be happy about it.”

“I’ll be wearing scrubs, Steve. What is there to talk about?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Lonely and horny men desperate for an American woman aren’t above much. Just… lettin’ you know now.”

“I think I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can hear it in your tone. “I’ll be there at 12:30 with lunch and supplies for Javi, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Thank you, kid.”

“I’m, like, a few years younger than you. You act like you’re my dad.”

“Whatever,” he laughs and hangs up the phone.

After your shift, you enter Valeria��s diner. Her eyes light up as she sees you, rushing your way. “¡Ay, mi hermosita! ¿Quiubo, chiquita?” She asks, grabbing your arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell her genuinely with a smile. “I didn’t know if… the bombing, if it affected you. I’m so glad it didn’t.”

“And me with you! Especially that Javier, dios mio,” she shakes her head.

“Actually...” you chuckle a little. It’s a nervous laugh, afraid to tell her what happened. “Javi was injured. He and his partner were very near the bomb. He’s okay now, but he lost a lot of blood and had to have emergency surgery. He’s got a big scar here,” you tell her and trace along your abdomen where his injury was. “He’s back at work already, but he spent a few days in the hospital and about a week or two at home.”

Valeria frowns. “Oh no. I’m glad he‘s alright now. I worried so much about him, but I figured he lived since there were no American casualties.”

You nod. “Exactly. I’m actually on my way to the embassy now, bringing him some bandages, and I wanted to pick up lunch for him and his partner.”

The woman claps her hands together excitedly. “And here I am, blabbering on! I’ll go get an order in for you. What would you like, dear?”

You put in an order that you figure Javi and Steve would both like, waiting contently at a booth Valeria seats you at and sipping a coffee she brought to you.

The little restaurant makes you smile as you think about the memories. Laughing with Javier for hours in the early morning, sharing life stories and experiences. You realize now that you think you loved Javier even then, on the night when you sat a few booths over, wrapped in his leather jacket while his mustache collected little grains of sugar and cinnamon.

Not long after, Valeria comes to your table with two large bags of food. “I couldn’t help myself- I threw a few extra desserts and snacks in. Javier needs to eat more, tell him that I said that and that’s why there’s so much.”

You laugh happily and stand. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to pass the message along.”

She takes your payment and hands you a large to-go cup of coffee- you deserve it after such a long shift, she tells you- before sending you on your way. The embassy is a distance away, and you hail a taxi to make your way there. The car fills with the scent of the fresh food, making your stomach rumble. When you arrive, you pay the driver and head inside.

A receptionist sits just inside. “May I help you?” She asks politely and without much interest.

“Uh….” you hadn’t expected this step. “Yes. I’m here for Agents Murphy and Peña?”

She nods, grabbing the phone. She dials a number and talks, making a face of annoyance as she switches to speaking English. She must’ve dialed Steve. She hangs up not long after. “Murphy will be here in a moment,” she tells you with a nod, and you back away to allow the next person to talk with her.

Steve finds you about a minute later. “Hey. That’s a lot of food,” he chuckles as he looks at the large bags you’re carrying.

“I went to Javier’s favorite place. This one waitress there absolutely adores him, so she gave me extra because he doesn’t eat enough,” you inform him with a smile. “She even threw in some free desserts.”

“Jesus. We could feed the whole embassy with those,” he shakes his head, taking one from you to lighten your load.

You walk through hallways and several sets of stairs, before entering the office area and finally reaching the two desks, one messy and one neat. Javier sits at the cluttered one, looking up and eyes lighting as he sees you. “Hey,” he laughs and even dares to smile: a rare sight when he’s at work. “What are you doing here?” He asks, rolling his chair back from his desk and taking your hand.

“Steve said you needed bandages,” you shrug and hold up one of the bags.

He gives him a dirty look and the blonde man simply shrugs, sitting at his own desk.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. What’s all this then?” He asks, referring to the bags you and Steve carry.

You set one on a free space in his desk and untie the top of the bag, setting a takeout container in front of him. “Lunch,” you say simply, opening the styrofoam to release a drift of a delicious smell.

Javier sighs at the scent. “Did you see Valeria then? Is that why there’s so much food?” He asks with a little laugh.

You nod. “Exactly.”

Javier sighs and grabs a fork from the bag. “Here,” he says, pulling you to sit on one of his thighs. You squeal at the movement, laughing and grabbing the desk once you’re seated.

“At least warn me, huh?” You laugh and he steals a quick kiss from you, earning a whistle from a man who walks past.

“Wow, Peña has moved on from fucking the informants,” the man chuckles. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You both glare at him, though he finds yours more intimidating than Javier’s. “Mm, we’re projecting our sexual frustration, are we?” You ask, taking a bite of food in your mouth with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry about us, run on home to the wife who doesn’t want your dick anywhere near her,” you say with a sweet smile, turning back to Javier’s desk and sipping your coffee.

The man walks away with wide eyes and Murphy laughs genuinely. “Holy shit,” he shakes his head and smiles.

“What? It’s clearly true,” you chuckle, looking back at Javier and taking another bite of the food in front of you. He’s got his heart in his eyes, barely managing to hold back a grin.

“I fucking love you,” Javi laughs contently, waiting you to finish chewing. When you do, he kisses you passionately for a moment, releasing you a few seconds later.

“You got some observational skills, kid,” Steve snorts and shoves a bite of food in his face. “We should get you working here.”

You roll your eyes. “What is your thing with calling everyone kid, Murphy?” Javier laughs, and you nod enthusiastically. You were just about to ask the same thing.

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the phone on Javier’s desk rings. “Peña.” He makes several noises of agreement before hanging up a few moments later. “Trujillo needs something. Be right back,” he tells the both of you and presses a kiss to your head. You stand to allow him to, and he kisses your lips quickly before speed-walking up the steps from the bullpen area and out to somewhere else.

You sit back down and both you and Steve continue eating your food. A minute or so later, a woman walks past but stops as she sees you. “Oh my God, Steve, is this Connie?” she asks, leaning against his desk.

“No, this is Peña’s girlfriend. She and Connie work together,” he informs her. Her face sours at the word girlfriend.

You tell the woman your name and shake her hand with a smile. “Peña has a girlfriend? My god,” she laughs lightly. Javier walks back down to his desk and the woman’s eyes light up. You stand so he can sit again. “Javier Peña, all settled down.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles and sits, pulling you back onto his lap. You squeal again at the sudden movement, more so for the amusement of the woman in front of you. Laughing, you steady yourself on his desk. “Javi, warm a girl!” You chuckle, turning around to kiss him quickly. You’d discovered recently that you couldn’t get enough of it now that you were allowed to do it.

The woman shakes her head and chuckles as she walks away, heels clacking on the tile floor of the embassy.

Steve rolls her eyes. “Ah, Carolina. Last woman at the embassy Javi hasn’t fucked, and she’s been going after him for months.”

“Bullshit,” you and Javier say at the same time, laughing and turning around to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Bullshit to the fact that she’s the last woman here I haven’t fucked. Yeah, she’s been all over me,” he admits and nods.

“Well that’s too damn bad for her, isn’t it?” You laugh and offer Javier your cup of coffee.

He takes a swig and sighs. “Goddamn, this stuff tastes good. The coffee here is shit. We really need to do something about that,” he says to Steve, earning a shrug in response as he forks more food into his mouth.

The three of you eat in content silence, Javier keeping one arm wrapped around you as he eats. Steve flips through a file as he munches on his food too.

A couple of minutes later, a stone-faced bald man in army green fatigues walks. He raises an eyebrow as he sees you sitting on Javier’s lap.

You bite the bullet and introduce yourself first, telling him your name and offering a hand to shake. “Javier’s girlfriend.”

Javier chuckles at the man’s confused expression. “Yeah. Ángel, this is Trujillo. We work closely with him and his men. What else do you need?” He asks the man, turning the chair toward him.

“It can wait, I suppose, until after lunch. Wonderful to meet you, ma’am,” Trujillo says before walking off.

Javier shakes his head. “Now I see why the two of you can’t get shit done around here,” you tease and kiss the side of Javi’s head with a smile before taking the last bite of your food.

Not long after, the two men finish eating too. You stand from Javi’s desk. “Walk me out?” You ask him softly, and he nods. “I’ll see you later, Steve. Thanks for the invite,” you chuckle, taking Javier’s hand once you’re both standing.

As you walk through the halls, Javier is smiling. It’s a rare occurrence around the embassy, enough to draw stares. You smile proudly, lacing your fingers together as you walk. “So, Superman. I have a proposal,” you offer, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Shoot.”

“You get off work around six?”

“Sure do.”

“And I don’t work tonight.”

Javier chuckles as he looks down at you. “Where is this going, hm?”

You shrug a little. “All I hear about is how good you are in bed. How good of a lover you are,” you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. “Why don’t you prove it to me tonight, hm?” You ask, fingers tracing the seam where his buttons hold his tight shirt together- just barely.

“Oh god, cariño,” he murmurs. “I don’t know if my body is up to it yet, with the incision and-“

“I’m a nurse, Javi. Your nurse. I know medically that you’re stable by now. As long as it isn’t painful for you, we’re safe,” you tell him with a growing smile. “It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” You ask in a low voice, your hand sliding across the bare ‘v’ of his chest, exposed by his low-cut shirt.

“Yeah, it has.” Javier licks his lips as he looks down at you, a growing smile. “Your place. Sound good?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you admit with an excited grin, placing a kiss to his cheek as you reach the door. “You bring the protection,” you murmur next to his ear before kissing him softly on the lips. You break away and smile at his dazed face. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” You tell him and squeeze his hand.

“Fuck, I love you too, ángel,” Javi smiles and kisses your forehead, opening the door for you. “See you then.”

Six o’clock rolls around. You know Javier won’t come right from work, but you wait excitedly anyway. You treated yourself to a long hot shower, cleaning up and waiting. You’re dressed in a wrap dress and nothing else, waiting on the couch and trying to distract yourself with reruns of a telenovela. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit on your counter.

Surprisingly, a knock comes at your door around 6:15. You shout for them to enter and it’s Javier. “I thought you didn’t get off until 6:00,” you smirk a little as you look at him, closing the door behind himself.

“Steve covered for me. I left at 5, went home and showered, changed bandages and everything,” he chuckles, locking the door.

You smile and stand, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How kind of him,” you chuckle softly, an arm around his waist. “Listen, I thought about it. If you’re still in pain, this can totally wait,” you offer, looking up at him with big and concerned eyes.

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you, ángel,” he murmurs, putting both hands on your waist. “Nothing could hold me back now.”

You throw your arms around his neck as Javier’s lips crash against yours, in a deep kiss that wastes no time. You make a soft noise of content against his lips and that spurs him on, his hands roaming all across your body. He breaks away, eyes wild and lips swollen already. “How many times have you cum in one night?” He asks, smirking.

You can’t help but moan in response, kissing him again deeply, your mouth exploring his. He breaks away again. “Answer.”

“Uh… three. On my own. Only once with someone else,” you tell him breathlessly, your brain so wrapped up in him that it’s difficult to think about anything other than him.

“Alright, then four’s the goal,” he chuckles, kissing you deeply and pulling your hips against his. His hands grope your ass and you moan softly.

It’s already the best you’ve ever had and he hasn’t even touched you. The passion and love you have for each other is evident in how deep and intense every little movement is, from the way you drag your nails down the back of his neck to the way he smooths his hands over the curve of your ass, feeling no panties beneath the dress. “Fuck,” he murmurs into your lips.

“My bedroom, please,” you whine, breaking away from him.

He nods, glancing in the direction of the hallway that leads to your room. He catches sight of the bottle of whiskey. “What was that for?” He asks, breathlessly chuckling.

“Confidence,” you admit with a laugh. “Don’t know why I thought I needed it. Not with you.”

“Well, it’ll go perfectly with cuddling in your bed after, hm?” He murmurs, kissing behind your ear. You sigh softly at the feeling and he walks you along to your bedroom, backwards, until you feel the backs of your legs pressed against your bed. “Let’s see what’s under here,” he mumbles breathlessly, kissing at your neck as he frantically fumbles to untie the knot around your waist that holds the wrap dress in place. He’s clearly experienced at removing all kinds of clothing, and you can feel your arousal starting to slide down to your upper thighs.

“Javi,” you whimper, and he swears he’s never heard anything sweeter.

“Oh fuck, dulzura,” he shudders at the way you sound, lifting his head and catching your lips in another intense kiss as he slips the dress off of your shoulders and it falls to the floor. “No bra, no panties,” he chuckles as he looks down, finding your exposed body. “Let’s begin, shall we?” He mumbles, his lips trailing from behind your ear to your neck to your collarbone to between your breasts.

“Please,” you whimper and Javier pushes you to lie down on the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees and spreading your legs. “Javi,” you mumble, gripping your breasts.

He looks up at you and swears he could cum in his pants right now, just from the way you look spread out for him. You’re already dripping and he bites his lip as he takes a long look at you. “Fuck, ángel,” he says with a shudder, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. “Play with your tits for me,” he commands as he slips the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest and the large gauze bandage covering part of his equally muscular abdomen.

You nod, though it doesn’t do much at this angle, and he finally gives in. His last bit of self control leaves his body as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, moaning into you at the way you taste. You whimper and your hips squirm softly before Javier brings a large hand up, pinning you down. “Javi… go slow, please,” you murmur. “It’s… been a while.”

He nods. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he breathes out, dark eyes even darker with his widened pupils. He’s just as entranced by you as he was by those heavy drugs in the hospital, his mind foggy from the way you taste. His nose nudges at your clit, causing you to make a soft noise. Javier slips a thick finger inside of you, shuddering at the way your walls flutter around it. “God, that’s gonna feel so good around my dick,” he mumbles, slipping in a second finger and lapping at your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, one hand sliding into that dark hair, gripping it. “I lied. You don’t have to go slow, do whatever you want to me,” you shiver and whine out, bucking your hips up only for Javier’s hand to push them back down.

“Patience,” he mumbles, latching onto your most sensitive spot and sucking on it softly. His fingers push in a little deeper and curve against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, wishing you had him to do it. You knew he would, with his reputation. Of course he would. He already feels like he knows every inch of your body, every sensitive little spot he can stroke to drive you wild. You squeal softly at the movement, your back arching. He smirks but continues, not bothering to stop and comment.

You’re already close, and it’s driving you wild, the other hand clutching at the comforter beneath you. “Not gonna last. Feels so good,” you murmur to him, almost ashamed at how quickly he’s going to make you reach your peak.

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he mumbles into you, his eyes closing in concentration as his tongue works hard against your clit.

“Thought about this all the time. My fingers couldn’t get anywhere near as deep as yours, Javi,” you coo, brow furrowing. “Just wanted you inside of me, doing this to me. I thought about it every night since I met you,” you whimper. “Nowhere near as good- fuck, I’m about to-” you groan but it’s cut off as your orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake and your thighs clench around his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the word tumbles from your mouth over and over again as it washes over you. After you come down, there’s a delicious oversensitivity inside of you. Javier doesn’t let up. “Javi,” you murmur softly.

“Gonna get another out of you, ángel,” he murmurs for a moment before going back with renewed intensity. You thought it was perfect before, but the way he continues now allows you to feel every bud on his tongue, every line in his fingerprints inside of you, the way his fingers move at slightly different speeds as they drag against that spot deep inside of you.

Only a few moments pass before you’re there again, whining out his name as you feel something warm gush from deep within you. It’s all too good, all too much, feels like an electric wire threaded through your limbs and core. “Javi,” you shudder as you finally come to your senses. “I- uh, did I just-” you say, eyes widening as you see the damp spot beneath you.

“You sure fucking did,” he smirks, removing his fingers from inside of you and sucking on the two slick digits.

“I’ve never done that,” you admit, biting your lip.

“It means I’m doing something right,” he chuckles a little, sitting up to kiss you softly, slowly. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes you moan as his tongue probes your mouth ever so gently. “It’s all good, baby. Wanna see if I can make you do that again?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face. “You were promised four.”

You shudder softly, hands on his shoulders. “I was,” you chuckle with the little oxygen left in your lungs. “What do you say…” you trail off, reaching between the two of you and palming at his denim-covered erection, “I take care of you, you get one more out of me, and then we finally fuck, hm?” you ask, recovering your senses.

“How could I say no to that?” he murmurs, kissing you deeply again. You squeeze softly at the bulge, and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “How- I, what do-”

“Lie down up there,” you tell him and nod toward the pillows. When you stand, you tear the comforter off of your bed and toss it aside. “We’ll just have to sleep without that tonight.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are staying the night, right?” You ask, suddenly taken aback.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” He pushes down his jeans and boxers and his dick springs free. He’s huge, not overly long but very thick, and you bite down on your lip to hold back a smirk. “Oh, you like this?” he chuckles a little, lying down with his arms above his head.

“Fuck,” you laugh softly, already imagining how he’ll feel inside. “Yeah, I do,” you nod and crawl onto the bed, lying down on your stomach between his spread legs.

You slowly trace a stripe along the underside of him, paying special attention to the frenulum and noticing the way his leg jerks beneath you. Adjusting yourself, you make big eyes up at him as you suck on the head, tracing the tip of your tongue against the little spot. “Fuck, you’re gonna have me cumming in seconds,” he laughs breathlessly. “You’re fucking amazing, baby,” he mumbles, his eyes slipping shut at the feeling. “Wait, stop, stop.”

You do exactly that, looking up at him with wide questioning eyes. “Yeah?”

Javier takes a deep breath and smirks. “You can make me cum with your mouth another time. I want this to be about you. Get up here and sit on my face.”

The boldness of his words makes your mouth fall open into a soft o-shape. You’ve certainly never done that before, but the idea is interesting. “It’ll be good, I promise. I already made you cum twice with my mouth, you know that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of your face.

“But…” Javier is much more experienced than you, you know that, so it must be fine, but there’s a little nagging insecurity inside of you. “What if I squirt again and, like, drown you?” you ask shyly.

Javier looks at you for a second before laughing softly. “No, it won’t. Come here, I can prove it to you if you’d like,” he offers, pushing a wisp of your hair back. The fact that you’re less experienced makes him even harder, if that’s physically possible, and you can feel it in your hand. He wants to do this, and that reassures you. You gulp and nod. “That’s my good girl,” Javi mumbles darkly.

You shudder at his words, your skin prickling. He can feel it. “Oh, you like that,” he murmurs. He scoots to lie flat on his back on the bed. “Come on up here, baby,” he says softly, and you agree.

You straddle his legs and gradually make your way over his body, careful to lift your hips as you pass over the incision. You’re hovering above his chest, looking down at him with the question in your eyes. “What if I like, crush your head?” You murmur and bite your lip.

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” he mumbles, stroking your thigh. “Do you want to?” he asks.

“Yes,” you nod shyly. You’re not used to being this open about your wants.

“Then let me take care of you,” he murmurs, hands on your hips and pulling you gently. Inviting you onto his waiting lips.

You slide your hips the rest of the way and moan as his tongue finds your clit almost immediately. He moans back, entranced by you already. He puts on a bit more of a show, making loud noises and digging his fingers into your ass. He murmurs something into you but it’s lost in your folds as he lavishes your clit with his attention.

“Okay, I like this,” you admit with a breathless chuckle, moaning at the way his tongue works against you, his mustache tickles you, his nose nudges your clit when his tongue is elsewhere. You’re still hyper-sensitive from earlier, and you can tell. Your orgasm approaches rapidly, faster than it has ever before. You fall slightly forward, bracing yourself against the headboard as the tingling sensation builds.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, panting heavily, your hands gripping the headboard tight. He makes a noise of approval and the vibrations from it cause you to let go, practically wailing his name. Your toes curl in pleasure, whimpering as it pulses through your body. It leaks from you before you can notice it, squirting into Javier’s mouth. He swallows every last bit of it, moaning at the way you taste.

Javier’s been so patient with you, putting everything about you first. He continues to eat you out as you come down from it. Eventually, you lift your hips, kneeling with your still-dripping pussy over his face. “You gonna fuck me now?” you ask, barely any air in your voice.

“Oh God yeah,” he chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your clit before pushing you over to lie next to him.

“Javi!” You squeal out with a laugh, falling next to him, his face by your legs. You’re giggling as you look over at him, hands on your bare stomach. “What if I would’ve landed on you and hit the incision?” you chide, though you both know it’s joking.

“It’d be worth it,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee. He stands with a groan, cracking his neck and grabbing the condom from the pocket of his jeans. He opens it and rolls it over his leaking dick, and you smirk as you look at it, adjusting yourself back where he was lying.

“You sure this’ll be okay with the abs?” you ask him as he walks back to your side, your fingers ghosting over the gauze-covered incision.

He nods. “Yeah. You ready?” He asks, a hand cupping your face to look up at him.

“I’m waiting on the fourth,” you tease, giving his dick a gentle tug and earning a groan. “Now get on top of me and fuck me, Superman,” you say with a seductive smile, licking your lips.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles softly, propping his arms up on either side of you and nestling his hips between your legs. You can feel his dick pressing against your folds, and you grind your hips up into his. He moans, shivering hard. “Oh fuck. You better know it’s not gonna take long,” he tells you. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this for so long. First time I saw those tits bouncing on the treadmill, your ass when you were doing those squats,” he admits, hand running up your side and pinching a nipple as he finally admires your bare body beneath him.

“Get poetic later, get inside me now,” you beg of him, leaning up and kissing him deeply. He paws at a tit and you whine into his lips, harder when he rolls a nipple between two fingers. “Don’t tease,” you plead, spreading your legs wider.

He finally slides in and swears he’s seeing stars from the second the head is past your entrance. He groans out before he can stop himself, and you involuntarily make a matching sound. “Javier,” you cry, the way he stretches you making your already dripping pussy even wetter.

He nods. “Yeah baby,” he mumbles next to your ear.

“Start moving, I’m ready, come on,” you urge, nipping at his earlobe that dangles just above your lips. He shivers at the feeling and nods, pulling out and pushing back in. The first thrust and he’s already holding back.

He moans your name quietly, starting a slow but steady rhythm, pounding in and out of you. He looks down and bites his lip as he sees the way your tits jiggle with his thrusts. “Oh, ángel,” he groans. You bend up and kiss at his neck, daring to work a mark into the skin. “Yeah, that’s my girl, marking me up. Want that girl at the embassy to see it when I’m at work tomorrow, don’t you?” he grunts, breathing heavily already.

“All mine, no one else’s.”

“All yours, baby,” he nods, thrusting harder. “Give ‘em something to talk about, mark me up,” he groans, his eyes almost rolling back in his head from the feeling. You nod, leaving love bites and hickeys all over the smooth skin of his neck, the skin that smells like aftershave and soap and cigarettes and his sweat.

He reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs circles into your clit in time with the thrusts. “Oh, fuck do I love you, baby,” he groans. “You gonna come again?”

You’re embarrassingly close already, and the fact that he can tell is even hotter. “Yeah,” you whine into the thick column of his neck.

“Good girl, gonna squirt around me?”

“Yeah,” you whimper again, hips grinding against his hand. “Love you so much, Javi.”

“Love you too. Go for it, baby. Do it,” he asks of you, and who are you to deny him of the sensation in the moment? You stop holding back, your walls fluttering around him and your pussy leaking as your whole body tenses.

“Javi,” you cry into his ear, clinging to the back of his head and pulling him down to where you’re now lying flat, limp as a rag doll from his ministrations.

“That’s my girl,” he coos in his gravelly voice, biting down on his lip. “So good, fuck, love you baby,” he grunts in time with sporadic thrusts as he finally spills into the condom, an animalistic cry coming from his throat.

His thrusts slow and he gradually pulls out of you, lying down and pulling you into his side. “Would you believe me if I said that’s the best I’ve ever had?” He pants out, kissing the side of your head.

You drape an arm across him. “It’d be an honor,” you chuckle softly.

“It was,” he tells you honestly, this time kissing your lips. “God, I fucking love you,” he tells you with a dazed smile, eyes slipping shut.

He’s so sexy like this, sweat beaded on his forehead and dark hair stuck to it. He’s fucking beautiful is what he is, like a work of art with those swollen lips and the developing bruises on his neck. He’s your personal masterpiece. You’ve done all of those things to him, made him fill that condom, hell, you put those stitches in yourself before he left the hospital. He’s fully and truly yours. “I love you too, Javi,” you tell him, pressing your lips together in a smile as your eyes water.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks quickly as his eyes open.

“I just love you so much,” you admit with a watery voice. “That was the best I’ve ever felt, and you let me ask stupid questions, and you did this all even though I thought you were gonna bleed out in my arms a couple of weeks ago.” You bury your face where his chest meets his arm, the tears freely running.

“Ángel,” he coos and kisses your head. “You are the entire world, you know that? You saved my fucking life, not just from the shrapnel. I would’ve drank and smoked and worked myself to death if you didn’t come in.”

“And I would’ve died from that cold,” you add with a weak giggle.

“And you would’ve died from that cold,” he chuckles and lifts your head. “I love you so much. No solo como te quiero, como te amo.”

There’s a difference in the way Spanish speakers say “I love you” that native English speakers cannot understand. We say I love you to our dogs, to our partners, to our sisters and parents and to our lovers and spouses. It’s all the same way to say it: I love you. In Spanish, there is te quiero and te amo. Javier might say te quiero to his father, to Connie when she brings him food during a rough hangover. Never in his life has the man said te amo and meant it. Not to Lorraine, not to any girl he ever held in his arms as he pounded her senseless. Never, except to you.

And you can feel it in the way he presses a tender kiss to your face, in the way a tear drips from his eye and onto your forehead. He loves you in the way that inspired the greatest artists to write sonnets and plays and make beautiful art, the way that Escobar would do anything, would kill for his beloved Tata, the way Romeo and Juliet loved and fell hard and didn’t care about the repercussions and died for love of each other.

“Javi,” you coo, looking into his big brown eyes that are brimming with tears. “Te amo también, te amo, y nunca lo olvides.”

thanks for reading!

translations:

quiubo- what’s happening, what’s up

Chiquita- girl, girlfriend

dulzura- sweetheart

Y nunca lo olvides- and don’t you ever forget it.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @apascalrascal @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging @pedro-pastel @notabotiswear @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #narcos fanfic #narcos #blood sweat and tears #pascalpanic

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

NOT YOUR FAIRYTALE - ft. myg

What do you do when you've called your wedding off but forgot to cancel your cake tastings? Why, you ask your brother's grouchy best friend, of course.

pairing. min yoongi. sort of.

genre + rating. fluff-adjacent. general.

warning / tags. mentions of infidelity, cake tasting, cake tasting isn’t a euphemism, fluff and hurt/comfort, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, friendship, friendship/love, childhood friends.

reading. n/a. a stand-alone three part one-shot.

word count. ~3550

chapter ii.

You know he doesn’t mean it unkindly but you can’t help the way your heart sinks like a stone, the jewel of the ocean lost to the Marianas Trench. It clenches pathetically in the pit of your stomach, squeezing painfully in a way that only he can elicit from you.

Because even a decade later - after countless distractions and even an engagement - you still carry some childish crush for him, hold a torch that somehow hasn’t gone out. It still burns, embers of a rampant wildfire doused by heavy rain, smouldering under a blanket of ash and misery.

“Oh.”

The single syllable squeaks past the cage of your teeth - a willy rabbit disappearing beneath the underbrush - and morphs into a cough on the back of your hand. You can feel the warmth already creeping across your cheeks, bathing apples in the colour of their namesake. You don’t miss the way Yoongi watches you, closely as ever and yet in a way you can’t quite place. It sweeps through the amber of his irises and disappears into the depths of his pupils; you want to chase after it, coax it out from its hiding spot, but don’t.

Instead, you fist your free hand between your knees and manoeuvre another forkful of vanilla cake past the delicate fortress of your lips. Weakened, now, because they feel feeble and you’re half-worried you’re going to say something you shouldn’t. That the words are going to tumble right off a stone wall and not survive the drop.

After all, you and your brother had a penchant for doing so. Namjoon, for spilling secrets about surprise birthday parties and Mother’s Day gifts. You, for waxing poetic about the ways you’ve dreamt of Min Yoongi throughout the years.

“Disappointed?” He drawls finally. It stops you from tearing apart the carefully constricted wooden box that you’ve kept those emotions locked in, little splinters cast below your nail beds – a reminder of hey, stop that.

“Of course not,” you answer, voice a little reedy, too focused on denial to sound quite normal.

He laughs then and the sound has your face burning, flames licking over your nose in the same instance his lips curl, revealing pink gums and bidding eyes to thin into amused crescents. The joy that radiates off him in waves, pours from his pores like bioluminescence at shore, makes you scowl.

It suddenly all feels very reminiscent of your adolescence. Of callow teasing and baited breaths, his name scrawled into the margins of your maths homework.

“Stop that!” You’re waving your fork at him. It’s meant to be menacing but only makes him laugh harder, shoulders rolling beneath the soft cotton layers that keep him wrapped away. When he doesn’t stop, you opt to shovel another bite of cake into your mouth, noticing with deep satisfaction that the slice is almost gone and Yoongi hasn’t even had a bite.

You’re going for the last corner when the tines of his fork collide with yours. So he had noticed.

He meets your stare with barely concealed disapproval, aggressively shoving your own utensil off the plate with a nonchalant flick of his wrist. “Greedy,” he says, mouth full of reproach and then, a moment later, citrus and sugar.

“You already knew that.” And now it’s your turn to turn water to wine, words full of playful reproach that makes him shake his head yet remain decidedly silent.

It wasn’t as if he could dispute that – not when he’d quite literally spoken the words himself.

So he takes his loss in stride, a gracious loser as you stack the now empty plate with another. “Go ahead,” you offer, like some benevolent leader.

“Oh, thanks.” The sardonic twist of his words doesn’t go unnoticed and you both roll your eyes, almost in tandem. Your brother sometimes wondered where you’d gotten your dry wit from, the derisive streak that was at complete odds with every other part of your rainbows and lollipops – his words, not yours – personality. But here and now, it was easy to see.

It sprouts between your teeth in shades of muted greys and muddy greens, sowed by a one Min Yoongi and cared for by your tender green thumb.

“How is it?” You ask, chin palmed by a small hand. The consequences of devouring that last cake are making themselves known, turning your stomach with its weight.

He must notice the way you don’t go for another bite because he’s speaking around a short laugh, the exchange getting lost in how the sound bounces around in your ears and stirs that same childish embarrassment. “Karma.” But he doesn’t seem particularly bothered, proverbial feathers unruffled in a way that is very distinctly him. “It’s good. Really rich.” Utensil gestures in the same motion his chin does - an unspoken invitation.

You don’t need to be told twice; you loved sweets, would choose dessert over dinner nine times out of ten.

“Soooo rich!” The flavour melts across your tongue, drenching every taste bud in cocoa, and you can’t help but hum in delight. “I think this is my favourite.” As if that means anything - as if that really matters.

That unreadable expression has found its way onto his face again, slapped neatly upon his features like a mask. You try not to focus on it, taking another bite as you chew thoughtfully, gaze focused on a freckle in the birch wood grain of the tabletop.

“Last one,” he muses and you wonder if it’s wistfulness you hear in his voice or if you’re somehow still that love-struck teenager you’ve always been, projecting a decade’s worth of emotion on the poor man.

It’s surely the latter.

“Go ahead.” Verbatim, in that same sardonic tone you’d used on him, saccharine sweetness threading every syllable as if the sugar particles might turn it into something more palatable. He's even got that little smirk of his, mouth quirked high over pink gums. You want to roll your eyes - and do, with an exaggerated jut of your chin and a simpering smile.

By the look on his face, he must be proud. He'd instilled all of this in you - the spice softening the everything nice.

The tines of your fork sink easily into the dense, moist cake, gathering a generous helping of pristine white frosting and golden crumb. You've never been the biggest fan of carrot cake - why would you want veggies in your dessert, you'd joke - but you think if every cake tasted like this, you wouldn't have a problem.

"I think I'm a believer." You're faux solemnity, features arranged in a straight line that causes Yoongi's own to split, amusement shining in between the fractures.

"A believer in what?"

"Carrots. Carrot cake. Vegetables." Spoken as if you didn't inhale green smoothies religiously.

You appreciate that he plays along. It's not very Yoongi-like but it's nice, a callback to the days when he'd indulge your naiveté. "Unbelievable. You're a disgrace to this family. Namjoon is officially the better sibling."

Fingers fly to your throat. You're scandalized, gaping at him as if he's suddenly grown a second head or admitted he's a wizard. "You mean he wasn't before? I took that top spot?" You're not quite sure whether you're joking, the question rolling off your tongue with more hope than you'd meant.

"No, Moni's the best. Obviously." Okay, you deserved that. You can't really bring yourself to do anything but laugh, the sound twinkling bells.

"I'm telling Joon you said that."

"He knows where you all stand." The way he says it sparks curiosity, colourful fireworks illuminating your thoughts as you study him. It shouldn't, but it does. You think you can see something hidden there, buried treasure beyond the slope of his mouth and beneath the crags of his teeth. It calls to you like a stark X on your map.

Another bite is thoughtfully chewed, flavours turning over on your tongue. You're trying to find your words as icing melts, coating every inch in sugar. "What's that supposed to mean?"

By the tick of his stare - the subtle tension at the corners - you think you've overstepped. You recognize that expression well enough. You'd become intimately familiar with it through the years. Despite that, it seems you haven't learnt your lesson, repeating yourself when Yoongi's silence - and patience, you're sure - stretches thin. You can practically see it, pulled taut between his teeth and in his brow.

It's clear as day that this conversation is over.

So why you're still so intent on a reaction, you're not sure. Maybe because this is the first time you've spent an extended period of time alone with him in what feels like years and it’s strange - akin to your first high school dance. Awkward, forced, filled with promise but ultimately disappointing.

You wonder whether he can feel it too and if that means he regrets coming here. You hope not.

“Sorry.” It comes with all the lightness you can muster, sunshine filtered through eyelet cotton. You offer a smile - full dimples and wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. “You can keep your secrets, Min Yoongi.”

By the way he stares at you - levels you with just one look - you know he sees the effort. It’s clear as day and he almost laughs, the sound bubbling quietly beneath the surface.

You were never good at doing things with any semblance of inconspicuousness - it simply wasn’t in your blood. You wore your emotions on your sleeves, heart pinned neatly across your chest in neon pink. It was both endearing and frustrating but you wouldn’t change it for the world. It made you who you were.

“One day, I’ll tell you,” Yoongi muses in a bemused tone that isn’t very convincing, lopsided grin of his own softening his features further.

“No, you won’t.” And that’s fine. You don’t mind, not really.

He laughs once but it’s enough. “You’re right.”

The silence that finds a home between you now isn’t awkward. If you weren’t so used to this give and take, you might’ve had whiplash.

Instead, it’s made from years of friendship and shaped to fit between your cracks and crevices, filling the spaces between you with comfort. It’s a nice reminder that despite everything, you can always come back to this. That he’ll always be in your corner.

You try to express your gratitude in the way you speak, earnest as ever. “Thank you for coming, Yoongi.”

Whatever he’s about to say is stolen by a new presence.

Petite - smaller than either of you, with full cheeks and a sweetly upturned nose - the woman offers a smile that fills you with warmth. It reminds you of your mother’s, all crow’s feet and deep dimples. There are stains on her apron, the sleeves of her pristine white coat pushed to her elbows.

“Did you enjoy the cakes?” Her voice is rough but kind, rolling over syllables with an accent you can’t quite place.

“They were incredible!” You’re quick to answer, gesturing to the free seat opposite you. “Did you make them? I wish I could do what you do! I’ve never had a carrot cake so moist - or light! And the chocolate— wow!”

You can practically hear Yoongi rolling his eyes beside you, because you’re rambling in your nervousness.

The woman laughs, sliding onto the stool with a little hop. “Yes, that was me. I’m glad you enjoyed. My name is Celeste.” Her handshake is firm, confident. Despite the no nonsense tone she takes, her smile never falters. It brings back memories of your favourite professors - full of guidance and wisdom and occasionally, tough love. “Let’s talk a bit about you two.”

“Oh, us?” The question stutters past your lips. You hadn’t expected that.

“We like to understand the happy couple so we can better personalize our service.” Another chuckle and her chin jerks toward where Siyeon mans the front desk. “Did she not include that in her spiel?”

“Oh, no. She was great! I just—!”

Yoongi can sense you’re about to run the train right off the tracks and into a canyon. It’s written into every inch of your face, the way your hand clenches at your side.

“What did you want to know?” Control is taken seamlessly, both by words and touch. His fingers curl experimentally around your balled fist, thumb ghosting easily across the back of yours. He squeezes once and shakes gently - just enough to jostle the tension from your limbs but not enough to call attention to the movement.

“Anything you think is important. How did you meet?"

You’re certain this is a standard question she asks regularly. It doesn’t help the erratic beating of your heart.

“She’s my best friend’s little sister.” This earns a laugh from Celeste, the sound bouncing off the table and into your ears.

“Wow!” Arms cross over her diminutive frame and she studies the two of you with a glint in her eyes. “And how's that?” It feels like being interrogated by your halmoni - embarrassing and a little familial. You wish you could find your voice. You were great with grandparents.

“I never meant to fall for her.”

The words mean nothing - it’s all for show - and yet you very clearly note the moment you quit breathing. How your lungs stop working, shuddering to a stop. It’s in direct contrast to the way your heart triples in pace, nearly sending you into cardiac arrest.

“But you spend enough time with someone - and in my case, their annoying little sister - and it just happens. You can’t really help it.” His laugh sounds strange to your ears. “At least I couldn’t.”

Across the table, Celeste’s face is inscrutable, her gaze trained on Yoongi’s. You feel almost invisible - or would, if you weren’t so keenly aware of the fact that he’s still holding your hand. It's the only thing anchoring you to the here and now, a shackle looped neatly around bone to keep you from floating off into the great unknown.

"That's very sweet." She says it plainly, like she's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky. There's no indication she sees through the carefully crafted facade the two of you have built. You wonder if your - no, his - acting skills are just that good or if she's doing it for your benefit. Surely she can see the tension in your posture, how you're ready to burst apart at the seams at a moment's notice.

"I think so, too." You don't think you've ever heard him the way he is now, honey sweet and miles away from boy you grew up with. His voice is decidedly soft, none of the usual grit coating the edges. There's no storm just beyond the horizon; he's only calm blue as far as the eye can see. "But she'd probably say differently."

It seems your silence has carried on too long for his liking. He nudges you above the table, a heart-wrenching smile drawing you back. Somehow, despite his efforts to calm you - because that's what he's doing, with this grin he very rarely lets see the light of day and repetitive brush of his thumb - your nerves are lit up like a Christmas tree. You think they must be flashing beneath your skin - a string of lights gone haywire.

"Right?" A subtle widening of his eyes is enough. You need to get it together, girl.

You echo him, laughter chasing syllables from behind your molars and into the open. "Right."

Celeste's gaze bounces between the two of you, barely concealed amusement folded into the corner of her stare, the way her mouth purses into a wall she hides her laughter behind. "You two are so sweet."

Well, you certainly hadn't expected that.

"Really?" It leaps forward before you have a chance to stop it, dragging roses over your cheeks. The next words tumble out in quick succession, coming of their own volition. You wish they hadn't. "I never thought I'd see the day someone called him that."

The subtle flex of his fingers reminds you that you're still interlocked, intimately joined by twined fingers and white knuckles.

"Well, he's sweet on you and that's all that matters!"

"Exactly." Yoongi is haughty and it looks good on him, framing his features and throwing them into a light you've only ever seen in the studio or on the basketball court. "Don't forget that." You think he might stick out his tongue - know he won't, but can almost imagine the expression. It would fit the playfulness that you so rarely see, puzzle pieces filling in the spaces usually reserved for stoicism and austerity.

"Already forgot," you return, a little brighter than you mean to, with sunlight in your smile and stars in your eyes. You can't help it. Any minute, you might wake up from this strange wonderful daydream so you bask in it, a cat in a windowsill, long-limbed and at peace.

"Like I said—sweet." There's a fondness in Celeste's eyes and you can't help but hold her stare as she continues on, undeterred by the world you seem so lost in. "Are you looking for a traditional wedding cake? What's your style?"

"We prefer understated." You don't miss the way he speaks for the both of you or that he does so with such confidence. The fact settles comfortably in the lining of your coat, tucking itself into the pocket over your heart. You know you'll hold onto this for longer than you should. "Nothing extravagant but something that clearly took a lot of care and work."

"He means no seven-tiered cake with sugar flowers and live doves," you supply helpfully, with glee you can't contain. It forces itself to the forefront of your smile, displayed in blinding white enamel and gloss-slicked lips.

"I'd take six-tiered with dead doves."

His deadpan rebuttal meets laughter - both yours and Celeste's. He might just win Mister Congeniality with this performance of his.

"What're your wedding colours? Do you have any photos?" That stops you sort.

You blink once, twice, trying to remember the palette you'd decided on before your fairytale had come crumbling down, a castle made of sand at high tide. It sparks pain from the tip of your nose to the soles of your feet and you reflexively flex your fingers, knuckles stark alabaster at the bitterness that sours your tongue.

"We didn't even think of that." Again, your knight in shining armour, refocusing the conversation when you most need it. Yoongi chuckles but you see the tension in his eyes, how it lurks beneath the surface. "Could we send some over later?"

"Of course!" If Celeste notices the change in atmosphere, she keeps it to herself. "Why don't you just send Siyeon anything you might have for reference and we can go from there. I know being put on the spot can be hard sometimes." There's an undercurrent of understanding, kindness cradling each word. You wonder if you've blown your cover wide open - if there's a bright red FRAUD stamp across your forehead. "Wedding planning is stressful, so take your time. If we need anything pressing, we'll reach out."

You're echoing Yoongi's thanks, not quite processing that your meeting has come to an end. If you really thought about it, you might feel bad - guilty for wasting their time. Instead, you let yourself be guided from your seat by a warm hand at your back.

"You two take care now." She ushers you to the door with wide, wise eyes and a little smile. "It was lovely meeting you."

Both you and your pretend partner bow, bidding thanks and farewell as the woman disappears back the way she came, imposing double doors swinging shut behind her. Her departure feels like a weight has lifted off your shoulders, carried into the late afternoon sky that stretches above your heads. You release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding and meet Yoongi's expectant gaze.

"What?"

"Nothing." You can tell he isn't going to give an inch. He's back to being the Min Yoongi you know.

"Fine. Thank you."

"You already said that."

The scowl you level him with is impressive. He must be proud by the way his mouth twitches, corners of his lips quirking just enough to belie his pleasure. "And I meant it!"

It's the reaction he's expecting - easily baited with just the smallest ounce of antagonism. Rather than respond, he snickers, nose scrunching characteristically.

"Stop laughing at me!" You half-whine, sneaker-clad foot stomping on the ground before you can help it.

"You make it too easy," he drawls, shaking his head as the two of you continue down the sidewalk. "Everything I do riles you up. Learn to control your emotions." As if it's that easy. As if you were the sort of person to bottle any of it up. He knows you aren't; he's only working you up again.

"At least I have them, Yoongi!" It's a low blow, a shot meant to surprise and silence him. You don't really mean it.

And yet it's you that's left staggered - because you've never seen that mixture of emotion on his face before. A combination of hurt and frustration painting shadows across his cheeks.

What had you done?

notes. this was meant to be two parts but now it will be three. oops.

tag list. @hoodmeup

458 notes · View notes

rina-writes · 4 years

Text

Tattoo

Summary: You have been thinking of getting a tattoo for sometime and inspiration strikes on a spontaneous date with your boyfriend Ethan, who supports with your tattoo from design to after care.

Warnings: The Fluffiest of Fluff

A/N: Figured it was a good time to post fluffy!E before the vid tomorrow. <3

You always went back and forth on getting a tattoo. When you were much younger, it wasn’t your thing. Why would you mark you body with something permanent? You changed your clothes 15 times before going out because your shirts didn’t look right with your boobs. How would you decide on a tattoo?

As you got older, you realized that tattoo’s shouldn’t only be viewed as something you wanted to represent you for the rest of your life. They could be moments, like remembering a first road trip or the album art of the band of the first concert you attended. Tattoos could be used to mark the story of your life.

Ethan, your boyfriend, was part of your inspiration to get tattoos. You started dating around his first couple tattoos, back when you were still unsure about them. Seeing his leg sleeve grow, especially the tattoos that represented memories you both shared, made you want to do something special. You especially enjoyed tracing his tattoos with your fingers and laying soft kisses on them during your intimate moments. He would often play with your hair absentmindedly, enjoying the attention. You wanted to share this interaction in reverse as well.

After months of research, you couldn’t find a tattoo that spoke to you. Ethan always urged you that sometimes you just need inspiration from the world, not from Instagram or Pinterest. You took it with a grain of salt eyeing some of the sillier tattoos on his leg. The fears of younger self came rushing back to you about making a mistake.

Then, one night, Ethan had this wild idea to go camping.

Uh huh, Ethan Dolan, camping, outside, willingly, without his twin brother. You kept checking his temperature the entire drive to the campsite. Ethan laughed, holding your wrist firmly, but not too tight as to hurt you. He looked at you, allowing the Tesla to take over the drive and leaned in to peck your lips.

“Trust me, when we get there, you’ll understand.” He said to you.

“I dunno...” You said, hesitantly, smiling as you pulled your wrist from his grasp to hold his hand. Your fingers interlocked and he brought the back of your hand up to kiss the back of it. He didn’t break eye contact and you chuckled.

“Now you’re just showing off.” You said, gesturing to the auto pilot with your free hand.

Ethan shrugged smugly, giving your hand another squeeze before fiddling with music playing the car.

By the time you arrived, the sun was about to set in a couple hours. You recognized the area from pictures Ethan had showed you from a video where he and Grayson went camping without technology. Unlike Grayson, Ethan had no intention of roughing which was easy to tell thanks to his glamping setup. Your tent was luxurious, way too big for two people and Ethan had brought enough blankets and pillows that they could be a fort all on it’s own. For dinner, he had made vegan meatballs with spaghetti and tomato sauce. He also made pancakes that he tried to pass of as crepes for dessert.

“It’s all I can make...” Ethan confessed, looking away embarrassed as he placed the pot of sauce on the logs of the campfire, next to the meatballs wrapped in aluminum fall.

“Thankfully, it’s my favorite.” You said, sitting in the spot next to him, checking on the meatballs to make sure they didn’t burn.

It was so quiet and spacious. After eating and chatting, you took a break before dessert to explore. Ethan led you up and down a few paths, holding your hand at the steepest points. You watched the sunset from a high point, your breath taken away. After taking a few nature shots and photos of each other, Ethan leaned in for kiss. His hand rested on the back of your neck and you deepened the kiss by getting close enough to sit in his lap. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as your lips massaged his, gradually getting more rough. His tongue tapped at your lips and you parted them to grant him access, both of you now breathing deeply to keep from breaking the kiss. While it only seemed to seconds, you could see the sky was starting to lose it’s orange hue.

“We should head down,” You said breathlessly, breaking the kiss.

Ethan pulled back only slightly, your foreheads still chuckling, his hazel eyes looking chocolate brown in the dark as he stared deeply at you.

“You’re right.” He smiled, “We can do plenty more of that later.”

You giggled and he extended his hand to help you stand up with him. The descend was a lot scarier with less light. You were clinging on to him, but you were also aware he was scared and clinging out to you. It was the blind leading the blind with a chorus of “What was that?” “Where are you?” “I’m scared.” and just pure screaming. By the time you reached the bottom, following the light and smell for the weakening fire at your campsite, you were both laughing with relief.

You enjoyed your “crepes” with fruits that Ethan had packed in a cooler along with the cold beverages you had to drink. While you were chatting, you noticed, Ethan look up at the sky. You were about to follow suit when he grabbed your chin. He turned you to look at him and your breath caught in your throat. Every now and then, your mind was catapulted back to when you first started dating. When your brain was still processing all of his handsome features, his cut jaw, his full brows, his large expressive eyes, his pink lips, his shinning smile, his soft, brown locks...everything that made him breathtaking. With the campfire light shining his face, it all seemed to look brand new again and you loved it.

“Don’t look yet, I want to show you something.” He said, and you nodded.

He could have said anything to you at that moment and you would have nodded. Ethan chuckled.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” He asked, biting his lip softly.

“No reason...” You smiled, pecking his lips. “So, what do you want to show me?”

“Let’s clean up first.” Ethan said, gesturing to the stuff around you both.

You both divided and conquered cleaning up the campsite. The final step was to put on the fire. You decided to take on the task while Ethan got the flashlight ready to go back to your tent. You turned off the flashlights to not attract bugs as you entered. Despite the tent being large enough that you could stand, you both somehow managed to trip over each other. With lots of laughs and fake bickering, you finally closed the tent and turned the flashlight on.

“No turn it off.” Ethan said, not wanting to ruin the surprise.

“Oh okay...” You said hesitantly, laying back on one of the larger cushions. You turned off the flashlight. “Come here and cuddle me.”

“I will, I promise.” Ethan said, his voice at a distance that told you he was still standing up. You heard him unzipping something and you saw that he was moving the top of the tent. There was a plastic covering on top, similar to a sun roof on a car. From your position, you swear you could see the whole galaxy. The rich deep purple and blues of the sky speckled with diamonds filled you. It felt like your heart was going to burst. Ethan crouched down and gently patted the cushioned floor for you. He finally found your arm and laid down next to you pulling you closer to him. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, Ethan studied your face as you stared incessantly at the sky like a kid watching cartoons.

“Are you crying?” His voice had a teasing tone, but he was whispering like he does when you cuddle at home.

“A little...” You admitted, snuggling into him. “This is so beautiful. Thank you.”

“I thought this would be a great way to show you how I feel when I look at you every day.” Ethan said, unable to make direct eye contact.

“God, E that was so corny.” You teased, but still inching closer for a kiss.

“Yeah...I know.” He agreed before closing the space between you to continue you where you left off on the mountain.

A couple of weeks later and you were at the tattoo parlor. You had decided on your tattoo based on your camping night together. You couldn’t stop thinking about those stars, and how they looked from that little sky roof. You wanted to get a similar view, but add to it, with some trees lining the area around the sky. After a few consultations with the tattoo artist, you decided a rectangle shaped “frame” on the side of your ribs designed to show a starry night in a pine tree forest. The coloring was going to be black and white, so it had a spooky element that Ethan really liked as well. Now, was the moment of truth.

As you signed the waiver, Taylor, your tattoo artist, smiled at you. They looked exactly how you wanted your first tattoo artist to look, friendly, edgy, and have really cool rainbow hair and even more rainbow tattoos.

“Are you sure about this?” They teased. “I mean...this is a pretty intense tattoo for your first.”

Ethan, who’s leg was bouncing up and down next to you, perked up at the words. “Taylor, is right, Y/N. The ribs really hurt. You should go for somewhere with more cushion.”

“I want the ribs.” You said, standing up with more confidence than you actually had.

“Alrighty,” Taylor said, “Come over when you’re ready. I’ll show you one final stencil and we will get this party going.”

Ethan stood up, giving your butt a light squeeze. Your eyes widened and you looked around to make sure no one saw.

“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” You asked, turning to wrap your arms around Ethan’s neck.

“Checking which places have the nicest cushion for this tattoo.” He grinned before kissing your forehead. “Jokes aside, I’ll be here when you need me.”

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him.

You were not fine. You were so close to crying, but your dignity wouldn’t let you. There were certain spots that hurt more than others, and your jagged breathing always revealed which ones the tattoo gun had just hit. Ethan was beside you the entire time. He was constantly giving you water, wiping your forehead, holding your head, kissing the top of your head and coaching you through it.

“It looks so sick, babe.” Ethan said, as he walked over to see how the tattoo was coming along. “You’re gonna love it. I’m actually pretty jealous.”

You let out a hum, which you had been doing for awhile now.

“You alright, hun?” Taylor asked, looking at you. “If you want, we can stop and finish another time.”

You shook your head quickly. “I...wanna...finish.” You huffed out.

“She’s a tough one, Tay.” Ethan grinned, making Taylor smile as well.

“I can tell.” Taylor said, before focusing back on their work.

Ethan sat down on your other side, dipping his head to look at you since your head was bent down. He rested his forehead gently on yours and you moved your head closer to him, taking in his scent.

“It really looks amazing, Y/N. Reminds me of that night.” Ethan said, his voice soft and full of nostalgia. “But, it’s also so you. I’m so proud of you, baby. Your first tat.”

You hummed again, trying to smile. He continued to pat your head and speak to you softly. Soon, Taylor announced you were done. They helped you stand up, Ethan steadying you from behind. You turned in the mirror and your eyes started to water. It was everything you hoped for. It looked great with your skin tone, even with the redness for the fresh tattoo.

“I’d hug you, but you know...” You laughed softly.

“We can hip bump on the other side.” Taylor suggested and you left as you turned to hip bump them.

Taylor wrapped you up and Ethan helped you to adjust your clothes. He practically carried you to the car. He didn’t want to hurt you, so he was very careful with you the entire time. He convinced you to spend the first half of your healing process at his place so he could take care of you. You agreed, mostly because you were so exhausted and the thought of sleeping in his large bed and soft sheets was appealing. He helped you to take off your clothes and clean up before helping you into bed for a nap.

Ethan spoiled you during your recovery. He helped you in and out of bed, waiting on you hand and foot. You loved the attention. Even when being intimate, Ethan was incredibly careful of your tattoo. When your tattoo was a lot more healed, you almost wished you had a bit more time with Nurse Ethan.

“It looks amazing, babe.” Ethan said, when he walked in on you getting dressed. You were in your bra and shorts, about to put on a t-shirt. “Come here.” He said, pulling you to the bed. He sat down and motioned for you to lay across his lap as he traced your tattoo with his fingers. This was exactly how you imagined it, no it was better. Your eyes began to feel heavy and you closed them, while Ethan continued to admire your tattoo.

“I love you, baby.” Ethan said, kissing your side.

“I love you too, E.”

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan scenario #ethan dolan blurb #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins scenario #dolan twins fluff #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins blurb #r-writes-fic #fic-tattoo

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Note

ok sorry but how many people do yall think rog has ever slept with cos i’m guessing four figures no lie

okay, i don’t normally respond to messages like this because, frankly, i dont really feel like its my place to speculate on roger’s sex life. Theres a difference between writing a fiction story with a character named after and inspired by him and discussing his actual personal life which i have no real knowledge about. What he gets up to in his free time is between him and the women he does it with. but i didn’t really feel able to ignore this one. please don’t take this as me telling you off or shutting you down or anything like that. If you want to speculate about roger’s body count thats up to you, go nuts with it. and i love when you guys message me and I don’t want to discourage you from feeling like you can talk to me or just send me your random thoughts or whatever about any subject. But I feel like I need to address why I disagree with this sentiment. Also so I can ask ya’ll to please stop asking me questions like this.

So firstly, just to get this out of the way. 1000 is a lot. even 100 is a lot. I think if rog had slept with 1000+ people he’d have a least a few illegitimate kids and probably would have been checked into rehab for sex addiction (not to mention STIs and such because lbr people in the 70s specifically probs werent the most careful especially if drugs were involved). I mean even if we were going to say Rog got lucky with a different woman after every show we wouldn’t reach 1000. According to google, Queen played around 700 shows in their entire career. If we add shows played by The Cross thats only another 67 odd shows (according to wikipedia).

now, i think there are 3 things that contribute to this idea of roger as especially promiscuous. 1. His attitude/demeanour/general way he sells himself. 2. the generally held conceptions about rock stars and rock star behaviour. and 3. what i’m going to call fandom dumbassery (but i mean that with a lot of love)

So lets start with the man himself. Roger Taylor is loud and opinionated and not particularly humble. He knows he’s talented and attractive though for at least some time he was a little self-conscious about how feminine he looked. He’s always up for a laugh, likes to party and has admitted to enjoying his drink and his women. He’s had kids with two different women, who’s relationships “overlapped”, and is currently married to a third. At least that’s the perception we can gleam from his interviews, behind the scenes videos, and other public appearances.

It’s easy to see how that image leads to accusations of being a womaniser and a cheater and basically a bit of a slut lmao. But here’s the thing. I think Roger, in part, markets himself that way. The thing is, if you look at his solo songs and the relationships he currently has with his kids and their mothers, and things other people have said about him/his relationships over the years, I think it’s fair to say he also has a bit of a romantic streak maybe? idk if thats the best way of describing it...he’s self confessed to not being a fan of marriage and the like but he’s not opposed to writing and singing love songs and seems to believe in ~love~ as a concept/power. He certainly cares deeply for those closest to him. Whether or not that translates to an agreement with monogamy I can’t say for certain. It’s hard to draw conclusions here because a lot of what we know of his personal life was fed to us through magazines and news paper gossip column articles and they were never looking for the truth, they were looking for scandal and sensationalism.

For instance the whole thing with the overlapping relationships. I think most people who have read anything about roger and dom and debbie realise that it’s not as cut and dry as “he was cheating with debbie and left dom for her” even though that was the story being sold by the press at the time. The reality (or at least the version closer to reality since obviously no one outside of them and whoever they were closest with knows all the nitty gritty details) is that rog and dom had already split when they got married. it was a marriage of convenience to make sure her and the kids would be looked after financially etc even after he’d moved out. So while it looked to the public like he married one chick and 30 odd days later was spotted with another, there really wasn’t anything untoward happening. I’m not saying he never had casual hookups or one night stands and i’m not saying he never cheated, but I do think some of it’s been exaggerated, whether by him to encourage the rock star perception or by newspaper/magazine articles.

Now, obviously, we have stories of rog, particularly in the late 60s and into the 70s, being with multiple women. There’s that bit in the Interview with a Queen “Groupie” (which is a fantastic read and i defs recommend checking it out if you havent already) where she talks about roger being a chick magnet and says that, at the time, it was pretty common to sleep about. But, she also says she didnt notice him doing it more or less than anyone else and seemed to mostly be with Jo (his girlfriend at the time). This is the same Jo that got a mention in the Queen in 3D book (”i think we all had the feeling that these two were together for life, but it was not to be”). Conversely, we have that quote (which i cannot find rn but i’ll link it when i do) about roger sometimes having one girl upstairs while another waited in the garage for them to be finished. I think it was about Rog in the mid-late 60s in Truro but whatever. Obviously he wasn’t anywhere near celibate and it’s likely was sleeping with people outside of his relationship(s). But one has to assume that as he got older those kinds of antics stopped happening, at least as frequently.

There is one potential story that I remember reading somewhere along the way about Roger cheating on Debbie while she was pregnant. But, take that with a grain of salt because I can’t find the article again and also I think it was from like The Sun or something equally as rubbish. The press was notoriously always printing mean shit about the boys and that might have been another thing they published to create scandal. Even so, if we assume it’s legit that is still only 1 story. Not to throw him under the bus but Brian is the one with multiple confirmed affairs, who literally wrote songs about it all. So why is Roger the one with sleazy reputation?

This is where my second and third points come in. There is a pervasive idea about what it means to be a rock star. The whole trashing hotel rooms, sleeping with groupies, passing out drunk every night thing. And I’m sure that Queen was like that to an extent. I think it’s pretty common knowledge that all of them got up to shit on the road. Between innuendo laden interviews and songs, videos and accounts of their parties, stories CT has put online, and other stories like the one of Roger bringing out lines of coke as dessert when he was having dinner with motley crue. They definitely embraced the rock and roll lifestyle. And I think with Roger’s personality being what it is, it’s easy to link him to those traditional rock star tropes and say it was all true all the time. I also think Roger has done nothing to counter those beliefs. He’s been open about how he wanted to be a rock star since the minute he picked up a guitar, he’s labelled himself as a great lay in magazines, he’s joked about girls pulling their tits out over dinner in interviews (though he said he didnt take her home), he’s written songs like One Night Stand and Dirty Mind and Airheads which explicitly mention his preference for women and alcohol. I think it’s fair to say he’s kind of encouraged that view of himself. Whether it was just a side effect of being part of such a well known band and having such a boisterous demeanour/personality, or whether it was intentional as a version of promotion i don’t know. maybe a mix of them? I mean I’m sure it didn’t hurt sales and stuff. it’s the whole guys want to be him, girls want to be with him thing, right? Maybe that’s just me being cynical though lmao.

Anyway, the fandom brain has taken all of that and compressed it into memes and jokes about rog being the band slut. Which i’m not complaining about, lord knows i’ve made the same jokes and reblogged the same posts and used those tropes in my fics. They’re funny and lend themselves to interesting fic concepts. Plus, i think roger is the sort of person who would probably laugh about most of it. But it’s an idea that keeps feeding into itself through fandom, perpetuating what is probably a misguided view of his personal life.

Again, I am sure he’s had his fair share of fun and I’m not trying to make out that he was always perfect or whatever, but I don’t think he’s been with as many women as the popular discourse would imply and I certainly don’t think he’s in the 4 digit numbers.

#i7558vjvug #please god dont let this start anything #im just here to write smut and have a good time

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r6shippingdelivery · 4 years

Note

This goana be a big one All OP's Christmas tradition can be sexual if you want. Ps mean all of them

Whenever I get an ask for all of the ops, I’ve always kept those family friendly, so if you don’t mind… Holiday traditions for all the ops! I also want to thank everyone who’s helped me with this and endured my questions and prying, thank you so much @demilitarised-zone, @grain-crain-drain, @cerosin & @aesos-caliber. Any mistakes remain my own, y’all did an awesome job helping me!

FBI

Ash: Eliza Cohen is Jewish, she celebrates Hannukah, not Christmas. She feels a little alone in the endless sea of Christmas decorations, but she’s happy to see everyone around her being cheerful and festive. If anyone actually tells her “Happy Hannukah” instead of “Merry Christmas” she might feel inclined to share one of her sufganiyot with them.

Thermite: He loves to decorate the place with luminarias (lights or candles in paper bags). He also makes wreaths out of barbed wire. Nobody knows if he’s kidding or not when he says that’s actually a longstanding tradition in Texas.

Pulse: He takes gingerbread houses very seriously, and tries to make them as elaborate as his baking experience allows him. Do NOT mess with Pulse’s gingerbread houses. Ever.

Castle: Tinsel, baubles and lights might look very pretty, but for Castle it doesn’t feel like a true Christmas tree unless it’s decorated with pop-corn threaded on a string too.

SAS

Thatcher: He doesn’t go carol singing, but it’s the only time of the year he’ll go to a church service, and then right to the pub. Also, the Queen’s speech is sacred and a must hear every year, no excuses and no clowning around when her Majesty is on the telly.

Sledge: His favourite celebration is Hogmanay (New Year’s Eve), with the street parties and bonfires and fireworks. Aside from that, every year he burns a yule log, and if he’s argued with someone recently, he’ll burn too a branch of rowan tree, to clean the air and start the New Year with a clean slate. Not that he truly believes it works, but it’s still a nice tradition.

Smoke: If anyone asks him, he’ll say his favorite thing from the Holidays is getting stuffed with good food. However, now that his daughter is a teen, he’ll admit he used to love writing with her a letter to Santa, and then watching her face of wonder when she opened the exact presents she had wished for.

Mute: He only celebrates Christmas because everyone around him does, not because it has any significance to him. But fitting in is easier if you go along with it, and it is a fun festival, even if he’s not the best at gift giving.

GIGN

Montagne: He loves visiting Christmas markets, walking around, buying a new figurine or ornament. He as a sizeable collection of santons, even if most of the time he sets a pretty minimalistic crèche (nativity scene/manger)

Twitch: When she was a kid she used to celebrate St. Nicholas on the 6th of December, since it was an important tradition where she lived. Nowadays, she celebrates by distributing candy to her friends and teammates (and keeping a good portion for herself as well).

Doc: He is a muslim and doesn’t really celebrate Christmas. He appreciates the festive atmosphere, and doesn’t mind the decorations, but he doesn’t decorate his home, nor does he celebrate anything in particular. He’ll gladly make use of the free days to spend time with his family and friends tho, and also give to whatever charities are popular around these dates (which usually are kid related).

Rook: To him Christmas means good food - mostly scarfing down as much foie gras as he can, and having bûche de Noël (yule log cake) for dessert - and good company. He holds a small pre-Christmas team party every year, so he can celebrate with his teammates before he goes to visit and celebrate with his family.

Spetsnaz

Tachanka: Watching “The little blue light” (a variety TV show) right after midnight in New Year’s Eve, both him and his sister have been watching that literally all their lives. He used to dress up as Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost) for his kids and nephews, but they’re too old for that nowadays.

Kapkan: After New Year’s, he’ll always go on a lone hunt for a few days and come back with fresh meat right in time to celebrate the Old New Year (on January 12th).

Glaz: After the celebration of the New Year and being in contact with more people than he usually handles, and drinking a lot more than it’s advisable, he’ll spend the next day nursing a hangover and painting, isolated from the rest of the world.

Fuze: He would say the home cooked food from his mother and grandma is the highlight of the Holidays, since he doesn’t care much for celebrating when they all feel his missing’s brother’s absence so keenly still.

GSG9

Jäger: He adores Christmas and still buys advent calendars for himself every year. He also inevitably forgets to open several days in a row and eventually binge eats all the sweets when he remembers. He hides it tho, because he doesn’t want people to think he’s childish.

Bandit: In contrast to Jäger, Bandit doesn’t care one whit about the Holidays. He’s of the opinion that the only good thing about Christmas season is Glühwein. Although, if he’s with his family, he will accompany his nephews on Epiphany day to go singing carols and get sweets.

Blitz: He will always organise a secret Santa event at the base before everyone scatters around for the holidays. Loves Christmas markets and the very American traditions of wearing tacky Christmas sweaters.

IQ: She likes to bake Christmas sweets, but dislikes her teammates hounding her for cookies. Aside from that, she’s pretty minimal in decorations and showing the Christmas cheer. Although she has an Aventskranz (advent wreath) and burns one candle every Sunday leading up to Christmas.

JTF2

Buck: It’s not Christmas without Tourtiere (a traditional meat pie) and Buck is quite an expert in making those, the results are even better than the one his mother makes much to her frustration.

Frost: Moose Milk, a highly alcoholic beverage that’s a tradition in the Canadian Armed Forces. Frost is the undisputed champion of both preparing the Moose Milk and drinking more cups than anyone else.

SEAL

Valkyrie: For her Christmas is not complete without gifting (and in turn receiving) Poinsettia flowers, and eating tamales. And while a Christmas tree is a must, she still keeps with her family’s tradition of putting up a nacimiento (nativity scene), even if it’s much more minimalistic than the one her mother does.

Blackbeard: He participates in a Jingle bells 5k run, dressed as Santa. He likes dressing as Santa. Aside from that, he’s very particular about going to personally choose a tree, then set it and decorate it on his own.

BOPE

Capitao: What he misses the most is watching the kids have fun with the Christmas play of “Os Pastores” (The Shepherds), he barely goes home nowadays, and there are no more children in the family for now either.

Caveira: She wishes for a proper amigo secreto (aka, secret Santa), where you give (and receive) small gifts all through December using an alias and some sneaking around, and then having to guess the identity of your secret Santa on Christmas’ day.

SAT

Hibana: She sticks to the notion of Christmas being a time to spread happiness, and also a romantic time. She’ll give people small gifts, go admire the Christmas lights, and eat outside. If it can be a romantic dinner with her partner, even better.

Echo: To him Christmas means pretty lights, eating KFC and cake. And visiting Tokyo Disneyland if he’s in Japan during those days.

GEO

Jackal: He never celebrated Christmas much, he never saw the point in it when he doesn’t have a family to celebrate with. But he always liked all the traditions around New Year’s Eve to bring in good luck: eating the 12 grapes (one for each strike of the clock at midnight), wearing red underwear, dropping a golden ring on your champagne glass for your first toast at midnight; and most importantly, right after the clock strikes the end of the year, hugging the people gathered around you. It always gave him a feeling of comfort, as if he was part of a family.

Mira: Two words, Christmas lottery. She finds a way to buy some from Spain every single year, and then faithfully tune in on the 22nd of December to hear the kids from San Ildefonso’s schoolchanting the drawn numbers and prizes. It doesn’t feel like Christmas is about to start without that.

SDU

Ying: Christmas is synonymous with party, especially since it’s impossible to escape the Winterfest in Hong Kong. Who doesn’t like to party?

Lesion: He likes sending Christmas postcards, by traditional mail yes. And he’d be even happier to receive some as well. Aside from that, he doesn’t really celebrate Christmas.

GROM

Zofia: She likes to have a traditional Christmas, especially when it comes to Christmas’ Eve dinner. Even if most years she can’t really buy a live carp to kill herself as her dad did, she still has carp fillet on the menu. Always puts an extra place on the table, as it’s the tradition, but also because she hopes one day Ela will take up her offer to come.

Ela: The true Christmas tradition for her is avoiding her family, although Zofia keeps inviting her to spend either Christmas’ Eve or Christmas Day with them and meet her niece.

707SMB

Vigil: He prefers to spend the holidays either alone with his parents or with very few people around, he’s not comfortable with those big gatherings and parties everyone seems so fond of. And ice-cream cake from Baskin Robbins is a must.

Dokkaebi: She still doesn’t get why so many westerners think that money is not an appropriate gift. It’s better than receiving something that one doesn’t like, right? All her Christmas decoration depict Granpa Santa with blue robes, and she will always argue blue is the right color, not red.

CBRN

Lion: He always attends midnight mass on the night of Christmas’ Eve. He used to hate it when he was a kid going with his parents, but now he finds it calming and comforting.

Finka: She misses celebrating Kalyady, which mixes the pagan celebration of the winter solstice with the celebration of Christmas and New Year. Caroling is so much fun when you also dress up with masks of animals or fantastical beasts.

GIS

Maestro: Christmas means family gatherings for him, and home baked Panettone, and carol singing and visiting the Christmas Markets. Will invite to his table anyone who mentions not having plans for the holidays, since nothing seems worse to him than being alone on Christmas.

Alibi: While her family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, she sometimes will celebrate it with friends if she doesn’t have those days free to go home to visit her family. The thing she likes the most is decorating. Proper, tasteful decorating, not those kitsch nightmares so many people seem so fond of!

GSUTR

Clash: She loves Boxing Day as much or even more than Christmas, cause while family meetings can sometimes be a little tense, she’s always felt at ease with her friends; and especially after joining Rainbow, she’s dying to celebrate with them.

Maverick: It’s been years since he last celebrated Christmas, between being deployed and then, well, imprisoned for a time. He remembers he used to go watch “The Nutcracker” almost every year, and build snowmen Santas, but it seems like that was a lifetime ago.

GIGR

Kaid: Doesn’t celebrate Christmas and he’s not very fond of the over-the-top decorations that pop up everywhere. He’s a bit grumpy about it, especially since doing good deeds for the community sounds like what the holidays should be about. He actually likes that bit.

Nomad: She doesn’t celebrate Christmas either, but doesn’t mind participating in the festivities. She’s travelled all over the world and observed the local traditions when she was there, this is no different.

SASR

Mozzie: He will sing the carol “Six White Boomers” 8about how Santa’s reindeers are replaced by kangaroos since the heat is too much for them) until everyone is either sick of it or knows the lyrics by heart or both. And also, beach barbecues!

Gridlock: For her Christmas means summer and going to the beach and Santa in a surfboard. The idea of a white Christmas is very aesthetically pleasing, but in reality she hates it and can’t wait to go back to a place where Christmas means beach parties.

USS

Warden: He has to have some fruitcake (mostly nuts, some other dried fruits, and spices) soaked in bourbon. It’s a true delicacy, trust him, he’s a man of refined tastes, right?

JGK

Nokk: The tradition she likes the best is, before opening any presents, lighting up the tree (with real candles instead of lights if possible) and walk around it while singing carols. She and her mother used to sing and twirl around the tree as fast as possible, until they were almost dizzy and laughing.

APCA

Amaru: She will make dark hot chocolate with cinnamon and cloves for everyone. The fireworks at midnight on Christmas’ Eve are a must, as is gathering at home with her family and closest friends.

FES

Goyo: It’s not Christmas without ponche and rompope (more or less equivalents to punch and eggnogg, and alcoholic). He also likes to eat pozole, although his is never quite as good as the one his mom cooked for him. (And no, tía Azucena, he’s too old for a Posadas party, stop bringing piñatas!)

NIGHTHAVEN

Kali: She doesn’t celebrate that, and doesn’t really give any special free days to her men either. Lucrative opportunities for work don’t stop just because it’s Christmas or New Year, quite the contrary she would say.

Wamai: He doesn’t care much about celebrating Christmas or not. The only special consideration he’ll take is to eat meat instead of fish (since his fishing family always had meat that day as a treat) and have a couple of strong drinks, maybe with Kali, and she will even smile at his toast. Those are his only indulgences for the holidays.

#rainbow 6 siege #r6s #rainbow six siege #headcanons #jeskiller234 #I had to google so much stuff and make an express learning of all these traditions #sadly I don't know someone from each one of these countries #if you see any mistakes corrections are more than welcome!

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thedisneychef · 1 year

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What Can You Replace Milk With In A Recipe

Have you ever wanted to make a recipe, only to find out it calls for milk and you’re all out? Don’t worry – there are plenty of options! Whether you can’t have dairy or simply don’t want to buy any, I'm here to tell you what you can replace the milk with in your recipes. From nut-based beverages to coconut cream, there are so many delicious possibilities that will make your meals just as tasty and satisfying. Keep reading to learn more about these alternatives and how they work best in different dishes! Nut-Based Beverages I'm often asked what types of milk can be used as a substitute in recipes. There are many delicious and nutritious options for replacing dairy milk, including some nut-based alternatives that make great substitutes! Rice milk is one popular option - it's made from milled rice and water and has an almost neutral flavor. It works nicely in baking recipes or added to your morning cereal. Hemp milk is another tasty alternative; this vegan-friendly beverage is made from ground hemp seeds, water and sometimes sweeteners such as honey or maple syrup. Its creamy texture makes it especially good for shakes and smoothies. And if you're looking for something with more protein than other plant milks, hemp milk packs a real punch. All these non-dairy milks offer unique advantages to traditional cow's milk, so why not give them a try? Coconut Cream I often look for ways to replace milk in recipes. One great substitution is coconut cream, which can be used as a 1:1 substitute for cow's milk. Coconut cream has a slightly thicker texture and less watery consistency than regular milk, so it works best with thick baked goods like cakes and muffins. I also find that the slight sweetness of coconut cream pairs especially well with rich desserts like custards and ice creams. For those who are looking for non-dairy substitutes, rice milk or aquafaba make excellent replacements. Rice milk has a thin consistency compared to cow’s milk but makes up for its lack of thickness with added sweetness due to the presence of natural sugars from the grain itself. Aquafaba on the other hand provides an almost exact replacement for cow’s milk – with no discernible difference in taste or texture when cooked! Overall, there is no shortage of options if you're looking for something else to use instead of traditional dairy products. Whether you want something sweet or savory, creamy or light - there really is something out there to suit every recipe! Soy Milk Moving on from coconut cream, there is another dairy replacement option: soy milk. Soy milk has been a popular choice among vegans and those with lactose intolerance for decades now. It's made from soaking and grinding dried soybeans before boiling the mixture in water to make it into a creamy liquid that can be used as an alternative to cow's milk. Rice milk is also gaining popularity as a plant-based substitute. However, rice milk is thinner than regular cow's milk or even soy milk so it might not work well for recipes that require thicker options like vegan yogurt. Additionally, some may find the taste of rice milk slightly sweeter than what they are accustomed to. Oat Milk I love oat milk as a dairy-free alternative to traditional cow's milk, and I think it works great in recipes. It has an earthy flavor that adds depth to anything you add it to, and its texture is creamy enough for use in any recipe where regular milk would be used. Plus, it's a fantastic source of protein! Oat milk can also act as the perfect base for other non-dairy milks like rice or hemp milk. By adding different ingredients like nuts or grains to the oats when making them into a "milk," you can customize the flavor profile of your drink while still keeping all the benefits of oat milk. This makes creating unique drinks incredibly easy and fun! Even better, these added items make drinks even more nutritious than just using oat milk alone. So why not give it a try? You might just find yourself addicted to this delicious and healthy alternative! Almond Milk Moving away from oat milk, almond milk is a great alternative for those looking for an option that closely resembles cow's milk. It has a slightly nutty flavor and creamy texture which makes it similar to cow's milk in many recipes. Almond milk can be used on its own or mixed with other plant-based milks such as rice or hemp. Its high vitamin E content provides antioxidant benefits while also helping to reduce inflammation and improve skin health. When swapping out cow's milk with almond milk, some recipes may require the use of thickeners like cornstarch or arrowroot powder to ensure a smooth consistency. This additional step might add more time but the end result will be worth it! Since almond milk tends to have less protein than cow’s milk, adding ingredients like rolled oats can help make up for this difference by providing more thickness and body when baking cakes, muffins and breads. Selecting either store bought or homemade almond milk can come down to personal preference since both options are widely available today. Store bought almond milks tend to include added sugars so if you're looking for something healthier then making your own at home is best. You'll need blanched almonds, filtered water and a blender; simply blend all three together until creamy then strain through cheesecloth before using in any recipe of your choice! Frequently Asked Questions Is It Possible To Make A Vegan Version Of A Recipe That Calls For Milk? Yes, it is possible to make a vegan version of a recipe that calls for milk! There are many dairy free alternatives available now that make it easy to substitute in recipes. Plant based diets are becoming increasingly popular and the range of products on offer reflects this. Whether you're looking for oat milks, non-dairy creamers or nut based cheeses there's something out there that can help you create delicious vegan recipes without having to use cow's milk. Are There Any Health Benefits To Replacing Cow's Milk With Plant-Based Milks? Yes, absolutely! Replacing cow's milk with plant-based milks can offer a host of health benefits. Dairy free diets have been linked to improved digestion and decreased inflammation in the body, plus they may even help lower risk for certain chronic diseases. Plus, there are so many delicious alternatives - almond, oat, cashew and soy milks just to name a few - that make it easy to switch out dairy products without sacrificing taste or texture. So if you're looking for an easy way to improve your overall health and wellness, try switching out cow's milk for a plant-based alternative in your favorite recipes today! Can Any Of The Plant-Based Milks Be Used As A Substitute For Cream? Yes, plant-based milks such as almond milk, oat milk, and soy milk can all be used to substitute cream in a recipe. This opens up a wide array of nutritional value possibilities depending on the type of milk you use. Each variation brings its own unique flavor profile that could completely transform your recipe for the better. It's worth experimenting with different plant-based milks to find the one that works best for your desired outcome! Does Replacing Cow's Milk With Plant-Based Milks Affect The Texture Or Flavor Of The Dish? Replacing cow's milk with plant-based milks like soy or nut milks can affect the texture and flavor of a dish. Depending on what you're making, this change could be either subtle or dramatic. For instance, if you use oat milk in a soup recipe that calls for cow's milk it might not have much impact; however, replacing regular milk in pancakes could end up producing an entirely different result than expected! Ultimately, it's important to consider the type of dairy substitute being used before attempting any substitutions. Are There Any Recipes That Don't Work Well With Plant-Based Milks As A Substitute For Cow's Milk? When replacing cow's milk with non dairy alternatives, there are some recipes that may not turn out as expected. For example, many custard and pudding dishes require the richness of real cream or full-fat milks to get a creamy texture. Allergen concerns can also affect the outcome of your dish; if you're baking for someone with an allergy to soy, almond or coconut products then these plant-based milks won't be suitable substitutes. So it's important to consider all factors before making any substitutions in your cooking! Conclusion Using plant-based milks as a substitute for cow's milk in recipes is an excellent way to make vegan versions of your favorite dishes. Not only does it provide health benefits, but you can also enjoy the same texture and flavor without compromising on taste. The key here is to experiment with different types of plant-based milks until you find one that works best for your dish. Some recipes may not work well using plant-based milks, so it’s important to do some research first or try out a few small batches before committing to a full recipe. Overall, substituting cow's milk with plant-based milks can be an easy and delicious way to make vegan meals! Read the full article

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kellylanesvault · 3 years

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Critical Reasons Why Your Belly Remains Flabby

Belly fat is more of a problem than just for aesthetic reasons. It’s a predictor of heart disease, type 2 diabetes, insulin resistance and some cancers. If your diet and exercise regimens aren’t working to melt your belly fat away like they do for other parts of your body, it’s time to make a change. The following are 12 pretty obvious but easily missed reasons why your belly fat won’t go away and how to fix them.

1. You’re doing the wrong workout.

A daily run or spin class is great for your heart, but cardio workouts alone won’t do much for your waist. You need to do a combination of weights and cardiovascular training—strength training increases muscle mass, which sets your body up to burn more fat. Muscle burns more calories than fat, and therefore you naturally burn more calories throughout the day by having more muscle. Aim for 250 minutes of moderate-intensity exercise or 125 minutes of high-intensity exercise a week.

2. You’re eating too much processed foods.

Refined grains like white bread, crackers and chips, as well as refined sugars in sweetened drinks and desserts increase inflammation in our bodies. Belly fat is associated with inflammation, so eating too many processed foods will hinder your ability to lose belly fat. Natural foods like fruits, vegetables and whole grains are full of antioxidants, which have anti-inflammatory properties and may therefore actually prevent belly fat.

3. You’re eating the wrong types of fat.

The body doesn’t react to all fats in the same way. Research correlates high intake of saturated fat (the kind in meat and dairy) to increased visceral fat. On the other hand, monounsaturated fats (the kind in olive oil and avocados) and specific types of polyunsaturated fats (mainly omega-3s, found in walnuts, sunflower seeds and fatty fish like salmon) have anti-inflammatory effects in the body, and if eaten in proper portions may do your body good. Just like everything else in life, eating too much fat of any kind increases your calorie intake and could lead to weight gain, so enjoy healthy fats in moderation.

4. You do not challenge yourself enough.

To banish stubborn belly fat, you have to ramp up your workouts. In a recent study, people who completed a high-intensity workout regimen lost more belly fat than those who followed a low-intensity plan. (In fact, the low-intensity exercises experienced no significant changes at all.) You need to exercise at full intensity because the end goal is to burn more calories, and high intensity exercise does just that. High intensity workouts mean you’re going all out for as long as you can. If this sounds intimidating, think of it this way: You’ll burn more calories in less time.

5. You’re not doing the correct exercises.

If you’re doing crunches until kingdom come, you have to stop it now! When you’re down to your final inches of belly fat, the dreaded crunch won’t be the exercise that finally reveals your six-pack. You can’t spot reduce, so perform functional exercises that use the muscles in your core—abdominals, back, pelvic, obliques—as well as other body parts. These exercises use more muscles, so there is a higher rate of calorie burn while you are doing them. Planks are my favorite functional exercise—they activate not just your core muscles but also your arm, leg, and butt muscles.

6. You are constantly stressed.

Tight deadlines, bills, your kids—whatever your source of stress, having too much of it may make it harder for you to drop unwanted pounds, especially from your middle. And it’s not just because you tend to reach for high-fat, high-calorie fare when you’re stressed, though that’s part of it. It’s also due to the stress hormone cortisol, which may increase the amount of fat your body clings to and enlarge your fat cells. Higher levels of cortisol have been linked to more visceral fat.

7. You are not sleeping enough.

If you’re among the 30% of Americans who sleep less than six hours a night, here’s one simple way to whittle your waistline: catch more sleep. A 16-year study of almost 70,000 women found that those who slept five hours or less a night were 30% more likely to gain 30 or more pounds than those who slept 7 hours. So, aim for a minimum of 7 hours of sleep if you can’t get 8 hours, which is recommended by the American Health Institute.

8. You are not committed to losing your belly flab.

Are you committed to the work needed to lose belly fat? Reducing belly fat takes a combination approach of a low-calorie diet that is high in fiber and low in carbohydrates and sugar along with cardiovascular and weight training. If you are willing to do the work, you can move past genetics and lose that flab.

9. You make things complicated.

One of the biggest weight loss mistakes that many women make and thus not able to lose their belly flab is that they overcomplicate things. With weight loss, often times, simplicity is best.

One last thing… you should try this super simple morning ritual that burns 1 pound of belly fat per day…

“All this by a morning ritual?” I asked.

I met an old friend for lunch last year and I was super impressed with how she lost 72 pounds in 3 months.

She said, “It’s not so much about the the so called ritual but more about how it releases fat-blasting molecules that signal your brain and body to burn off pounds and inches of trapped fat quickly and naturally.”

Even though I was skeptical, I’ve been struggling with my weight over the last few years, so I gave it a shot and watched the same video she did.

Well, it’s only a couple weeks later and you know what they say about how “you can’t transform your body overnight”…

They’re right — it actually took me 14 days to lose 19 pounds.

Now it’s my girlfriends asking ME what I’M doing differently

Imagine your body being beach ready before Memorial Day.

Imagine enjoying the foods you love: pasta, wine, or even a dessert — completely guilt-free.

And imagine feeling good and living your life without obsessing about every single calorie you eat…

All while knowing your health is being protected by one of the most powerful natural healing rituals ever discovered.

Click here to see the super simple morning ritual that helped me melt away 19 pounds in just 14 days

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roaminginspiration · 4 years

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Before The Last Grain

Chapter 2

chapter 1 (x)

2 MONTHS, 8 DAYS, 12 HOURS, 3 MINUTES AND 57 SECONDS

Steve groans slightly as his eyelids remain shut tight. He pulls his hand from under his pillow and stretches his arm out across the mattress. The void space next to him is sourly cool, and has been for a while. He sighs and flips over on his back. The past 3 weeks, and many nights over, Natasha has left nothing but the shape of her figure and the subtle scent of her perfume into his cotton silk; and heated memories to stretch the night and seep into the next morning.

Natasha never stays longer than necessary or longer than she intends to. She usually sends a text less than an hour before her impromptu visit, makes the bed her own then slips off the warm sheet to disappear into the starless night.

And every new shortened night deepens his yearning for her. So he gives more. Every embrace becomes more passionate, eager…and maybe, to some extent, desperate. He wonders if she can feel how every burning kiss, every lingering caress, every lustful union of their bodies conceal the mute disquiet slowly burgeoning inside him. How every ardent gesture is begging for her attention.

Yes, the past three weeks have been the most uncanny combination of consuming thrill and quiet agony. One that leaves him insatiable.

But those are Natasha’s terms for this innocent, harmless fling to endure. And Natasha is very much in control. From the moment she texts to the moment she slips away, she is the one leading the dance. Bold and unapologetic.

He liked it, at first. Very much so. Fantasizing about, and never knowing, when and how their next sexual escapade would take place. But what excited him now frustrates him. Harmless to her only, it seems. For he can feel it. The kisses she returns are as steamy as they are hollow. They’re nothing but the thrill of satisfying a carnal need but they lack warmth and closeness. She gives but doesn’t engage. Her sensual generosity only reflects her emotional indifference.

Maybe he’s never been one for those meaningless hook-ups. Lying in the dim room lit by the city lights glowing through the wide window pans, her absence only emphasizes his solitude. He’s gotten used to it — tomorrow morning, mind deep into his cases, the feeling will wane. He rolls over and pulls her cold pillow to him. Wrapping his arm around it, her familiar scent swirls up his nostrils and eventually drifts him to sleep.

A couple of days later, his phone beeps.

You free tonight? I’m starving

He smiles sternly.

Come on over. I’ll cook. 7 pm?

The screen of his phone flashes a few seconds later.

It’s a date ;)

The following evening, they’re sitting at the kitchen island with jazz music playing in the background.

“How was your day? Did you have to deal with one of Tony’s shenanigans?”

He smiles. “Oddly enough, Tony has been quite all right lately. Overall, a quiet and peaceful 36 hours.”

She chuckles. “Fingers crossed he passes the 48 hours bar,” she says before taking a new mouthful from her plate.

“Let’s not jinx it,” he jokes then rubs his hand over his forearm propped on the table. “How about you?”

She nods while swallowing with a smile then sweeps her hair over to the other side. “Just rehearsing. I’m giving a concerto in Toronto in about two weeks.”

“Sounds exciting.”

His eyes instinctively fall on her fingers, elegantly wrapped under her chin. He can see she has the hands of a pianist: strong and graceful, fingers long and slim.

“It’s mostly lots of practice, discipline, and resilience,” she comments with a shrug and reaches for her wine. Her fingers beautifully wrap around the glass. She gets pensive. “When I get on stage and hit the first key, that’s when it becomes all worth it.” She pivots on the stool and smirks cheekily. “When the audience claps and breaks into a pool of tears, well that’s the cherry on top.”

She comes off the stool and wanders across the penthouse over to the lounge room, past the fireplace to stand in front of the large windows facing the river and Manhattan.

“This view is humbling,” she murmurs in awe like she is seeing it for the first time. “I can see why you’d want to live in Brooklyn.”

He gets up and watches her closely, eyes locked on his own humbling view.

“The main reason I chose Brooklyn is I grew up here — I wouldn’t see myself living anywhere else. But I admit the view was quite a compelling reason to sign the lease.”

She falls into silent contemplation. She doesn’t notice but her fingers slowly begin to play the notes she’s quietly humming under her breath, spontaneously creating the first beats of a melody. It’s fascinating to watch.

She nods to herself, gaging the first draft in her mind before stopping altogether to lock it safely in a corner of her memory.

“Where were we?” she asks with a purring voice. She swings around and gently leans on the glass. Her glass of wine hanging at her side, the fingers of her other hand wonderingly trace a line up along the side slit of her skirt.

“If you’re still hungry, I have dessert in the fridge,” he says, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

It makes her laugh. She drops head back onto the window glass. She pauses as she seems to gather her thoughts.

“You’re not like the other guys, you know that? You’re there, watching me sheepishly from across the room. It’s kinda hard to read you right now.”

He puts his glass down and walks over to her. He comes to stand in front of her.

“It’s not that hard, actually. All you have to do is ask.”

The corner of her mouth goes up a little. She tilts her head slightly and eyes him. Daring, yet hesitant.

“Ok. What are you thinking right now?”

“That I’m the luckiest guy in Brooklyn tonight for having such charming company. For the most part. But I must admit, also clueless, as to how the night will end.”

“How do you want it to end?” she cocks an eyebrow.

His hands are in his pockets. His pupils are locked on her. Calm and collected.

“You know how.”

It makes her smile and look away. Her expression changes slightly, turns unexpectedly wistful.

“This is just a game, Rogers. Just play along.”

“Except I don’t know the rules of it.”

She bites her thumb friskily. “There shouldn’t always be. Life is complicated enough.”

He glances away and nods to himself.

“Right. Then uncomplicate things. What’s going on right now?”

She shrugs innocently. “I’m just a woman, with a breathtaking view of Manhattan lying behind, looking at an attractive man she wants to lie in bed with.”

Electricity sparks around them and the short space between their bodies, pulling them together like magnets. Their lips crush together, invasive and devouring. Her free hand pins his waist against her. His mouth trails along her jaw to the nape of her neck — a particularly erogenous spot of her body as he’s learned. A moan escapes her lips as her arm jerks away and she presses the palm of her hand against the cool glass, sending chills along her flustering body.

She pulls him away and catches her breath. Natasha glances behind him and a mischievous smile comes to her lips.

“Doesn’t literally have to be a bed, though.”

Pressing her hand against his chest, she leads him along to the couch nearby. He trips over the edge and falls flat on his back. He leans on his elbows as she puts her glass of wine down on the coffee table nearby. She then climbs on the sofa and straddles him.

She’s already unbuttoning his shirt before he has time to voice any of his lingering concerns. All of them mellow into an unsound mush. All he feels and grasps right now is the growing and overwhelming longing, primal and imperial. His hands are mirroring hers, pulling her top off of her.

_____________________________________

The sizzling sound of the fireplace can only be heard between their lusty moans.

These same flames have lost in intensity a few hours later as they both lie naked on the rug by the fireplace. Lying on her stomach, her red hair, down and wavy, fall loosely on the side of her face as her fingers fiddle with the corner of the cushion her elbows are propped on. Her legs crossed, up in the air.

Steve watches how the warm incandescence from the fire shimmers over the curves of her flawless figure. The nib of his pencil is tracing soft lines over the paper, his sketchbook steadily pressed between his fingers. For the past hour and a half, he has been fighting off sleep in an inane attempt to prolong this evening. Maybe drawing her is a way to keep a piece of her with him, even long after she will be gone. Embossing this memory of her onto the thick paper with lead.

Natasha doesn’t seem to mind or give it much interest. She lets herself be his muse for the night.

But his keen eye gets heavier, and so does the hand holding the pencil. He can feel he’s losing his fight against sleep.

“Do you have many of your other conquests in that book?” she eventually asks.

Eyes fixed on his sketch, he smiles. “You’re the first actually.”

He has just finished tracing the small of her back, blissfully vertiginous, and is going on to outline the curve of her bottom.

She drops her head onto the cushion and smirks. “Will you let me see it?”

“We’ll see about that,” he comments lightly, focused on his task.

“You know this is possibly the most artsy thing ever. Can’t be topped…unless I just jumped and went to compose a new symphony, in the nude.”

“Well, I don’t have a piano. We can always ask the neighbor downstairs to let you use his.”

“You’re a good guy, Steve. Any woman would be happy to have you,” she comments detachedly. “You should get yourself a Watch and wait for your girl. Just as she is.”

His eyes fall on the one handcuffed around her wrist. He watches the seconds tick by in dooming silence.

His expression turns serious. “I used to wear one,” he says, still drawing.

Natasha’s eyes swiftly lock on him. “Why did you take it off?”

“I wore it for many years. And then it just deactivated.”

Her features stiffen. Everybody has heard of it, and dreaded it. The loss of your soulmate. No message flashing on the screen, no comfort — just a blank screen. The Watch turns off forever, lifeless. No second option, no new Watch. For the wearer, the absolute certainty they will never meet their other half.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

He shrugs. “It’s okay. I managed to pull a few strings with people working for the Watch company and they traced back the code to her. Car accident. Her funeral happened to be a couple of days later and I attended the service,” he tells the story with a collected expression. “A British immigrant. Her name was Peggy Carter. And that was the end of it, really.”

The end of it before it had even started. It’d felt weird. Feeling a sense of loss without suffering any actual lack. You’re not emotionally affected and yet you’re grieving. Grieving for a person that was not from your past, but was supposed to fill your future. Grieving your own fate probably.

“Anyways, that was a while ago; and as strange as it sounds to say, I moved on.”

He smiles and she mirrors it, except weakly. The conversation then shifts to lighter topics.

He’s halfway through drawing her crossed calves when his eyes, burning with exhaustion, force him to surrender. He closes the sketchbook and drops in on the coffee table behind him. He reclines on the floor, head tilted in her direction. He watches her intently. She shows no ounce of exhaustion as shown by the swift motions of her fingers.

“You’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” he asks dozily. Her pupils dart in his direction.

“Don’t fret about it. It’s not worth it.”

“You know you could just take the key,” he says slowly. “I have a spare in the kitchen drawer. Since you’re gonna sneak out you might as well want to lock the door.”

She chuckles.

“You never asked where I live,” she muses aloud.

His eyelids are drooping like heavy curtains.

“Because I know you’re not ready to tell me.”

She pouts and mumbles her thumb.

“Oh dear, you really held on long this time,” she says to herself. Her voice seems to come from miles away.

Her figure turns blurry and his sight gets obscure.

“You’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” he manages to voice weakly.

Her figure leans over him.

“Good night, Rogers,” she murmurs then her lips gently graze his as he drifts to sleep.

The next morning, when he wakes up at dawn, the fire completely extinguished, he’s alone. He sighs, grabs his book and finishes the sketch, trying to revive the blazing night.

Natasha disappeared like the most ethereal fantasy. She answered his texts only briefly, in a detached way. And he soon understood he’d scared her away.

She doesn’t visit again.

Days go by and he resumes his normal routine. Work, social gatherings, and home. He sits on his couch, silently watching the skyline standing in front of him.

He catches himself missing the time when she would sneak out of his apartment. At least, he had her for a few hours then.

Over a week later, he’s in his bed. He puts a file down and looks at the clock. He remembers this is the night she is performing in Toronto.

He’s been asleep for many hours. He doesn’t hear the muffled sounds in his room. Then two arms come and drape over his bare back. The skin is slightly cooler from the soft wind outside. The familiar scent of her perfume hovers above him and lulls him.

She presses her body against his, spooning him, and lies the side of her face on his warm, soft skin.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes. It is too blissful of a dream to risk ending it and waking up to a disappointing reality. He lays his hand on her knuckles then holds it gently.

Next, they both sleep…until the end of the night. And beyond.

The first time they sleep together.

1 MONTH, 27 DAYS, 11 HOURS, 18 MINUTES AND 16 SECONDS

#romanogers #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #capwidow #captasha #steve x natasha #AU #fanfic #writing #Before The Last Grain #inneedofinspiration

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just-horrible-things · 4 years

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[Warning - eye gore.]

Send a message, the letter reads, in the familiar elegant curls of his mother’s handwriting, to Inquisitor Bright. He has a location – not to find the Inquisitor herself, of course, but somewhere that her agents can be found. Return her acolyte – or what remains of her – with an apology. Remind her that misunderstandings are tragically easy, and that the affairs of Navigators are perilous.

Privately Tacitus thinks that it might be wiser to allow the Inquisitor’s minions their investigations. He has nothing to hide. If Cavarr have sins worthy of the Inquisition’s attention, Tacitus knows nothing of them and therefore cannot betray any secrets. Rebuffing them like this will surely just raise suspicions. Even Navigators aren’t entirely beyond the Inquisition’s reach.

But it isn’t Tacitus’ decision to make. And the House feels that the insult of such blatant snooping should not go unanswered.

“I will take dinner with the prisoner,” he informs his valet as he folds the letter carefully for storage. “See that she’s cleaned up, and find her something to wear, please. There’s no need to humiliate her. If she will wash herself, let her.” “What should she wear?” “Hm, I don’t know. Find her something respectable, would you? Black, I should think, the Inquisition always seem to be in black. I shall be informal.”

“Of course. Leave it to me.” “Thank you.”

They share a smile, then Tacitus turns back to his desk. He should write back to his mother, and while he won’t be able to finish the letter until after he has dealt with the Inquisitorial woman, he has plenty of other topics to cover.

---

The unfortunate throne agent is waiting for Tacitus when he enters the dining room. Not that she has a choice in the matter. She’s been dressed in a nice tunic with pleated patterns, and a decent jacket. Her hair is up like it was when he first met her. She sits with her spine straight, glaring sullenly at Tacitus as he walks in. There’s a slight flush in her cheeks and he wonders if bathing was a traumatic experience for her.

“Interrogator Ariadne Milonas,” he greets her with a thin smile. “Lord Cavarr.” She inclines her head, but her expression doesn’t warm. “I’d stand, but I don’t have that option.” Her left hand is cuffed to her chair, Tacitus has been informed. “You’re proved quite the enterprising opponent so far,” he observes. “Precautions seem… prudent.” “Are we enemies, Cavarr?” she demands. “We needn’t be. I am a loyal servant of the Throne. If you are as innocent as you say, we should not be enemies!” “Interrogator,” Tacitus chides mildly, one eyebrow quirked. “I haven’t even had a chance to sit down.”

She watches sourly as he sits down. But she doesn’t press the point, and she accepts his offer of amasec. Soup is brought in almost immediately, with bread pre-broken so that her single free hand isn’t an impediment. “If you think two loyal servants cannot be enemies,” Tacitus tells her, “You must be naive. And I find that difficult to believe of the Inquistion.” “Two loyal servants shouldn’t be enemies,” she argues. “We should all place cooperation in the name of Throne and Imperium above our differences of opinion. But yes, I’m well aware that pettty squabbles are commonplace, thank you.” Tacitus resists the urge to tell her she is welcome. He takes his soup thoughtfully, and lets her speak. “But my only loyalties are to the Holy Ordos. I have no stake in any political or economic disputes. I am not concerned with quibbles in the interpretation of the Creed. I don’t care about violations of the Lex. I care only for the good of the Imperium. There is no reason to consider me an enemy.”

Tacitus sighs softly. “Your loyalty may be owed directly to the Throne,” he allows, “But I am a Scion of House Cavarr, and I owe mine to my elders and my Novatora.” Milonas hesitates, but her voice is serious as she asks “Would you put that loyalty above your faith, and the good of mankind?” “Eat your soup, Interrogator. It will go cold.” She looks almost shocked at the rebuff. Insulted – as expected. And surprised. Tacitus expects her to argue. But she sullenly takes his advice. She hasn’t, he supposes, had hot food in at least twelve days.

She doesn’t let go of the topic, though. “You are more than just a tool of your family,” she tells him in low tones, while running bread round the bottom of her bowl. “You are an individual, in the eyes of the God-Emperor.” Tacitus chuckles. “That is so. But shall we not place faith in our superiors? Has not the Emperor placed them, in His wisdom, above us for good reason?” “That depends what those superiors are doing. You are not an idiot, I know that you would recognise heresy or treason if you saw it.” “Interrogator, I did not lie to you when I said that I have no reason to suspect any such thing of my relations. Of course you cannot take my word at face value, but I promise you – House Cavarr is loyal. There is no conflict between my loyalty to my House and my loyalty to the Throne.” She is visibly skeptical, but the main course is being brought in, and she does not press the point.

They eat seafood from the last world, grains from storage and greens from hydroponics, spiced and served in a rich sauce. Milonas maintains her composure, but she is quiet, and her concentration on the food betrays her hunger. Tacitus talks about the food idly, and she is polite enough to acknowledge it with terse compliments.

While they wait for dessert, Tacitus brings the conversation back to more serious matters. “You are mistaken in your belief that the Inquisition is an apolitical organisation,” he tells her. He can almost feel her attention sharpen to a narrow focus. “Many Inquisitors have a political agenda, and I doubt that Lady Bright is any exception.” He smiles at the flicker of surprise in her eyes. Yes, I know who you work for. “And even beyond that, the Inquisition as a whole has a vested interest in maintaining its own power. Which necessarily involves butting heads at times with other Imperial powers. Such as the Navis Nobilite.” “I don’t have any problem with the Navis Nobilite,” she responds. “There is a long-standing understanding,” he explains, “that the Inquisition does not pry into the affairs of the Nobilite. We police our own ranks for mutation and heresy. And naturally we take such matters very seriously. As a matter of faith, of course, but also because if we did not, then we would not long retain our privileged status.” “No one is beyond investigation by the Holy Ordos,” she protests with some indignation. Tacitus cannot suppress – or rather, chooses not to suppress – another chuckle. “You are wrong, Interrogator. On paper that may be so. But in practice… here we sit.” Milonas glowers at him.

“Inquisitor Bright will not take this lightly,” she says. Inwardly, Tacitus smiles. It is an admission of her own helplessness, whether she realises it or not. “I hope not,” he agrees mildly. “Truthfully this is larger than either of us. You have your Inquisitor to answer to, and I am still barely an adult in the eyes of my kin. We each do as we must. More amasec, Interrogator?” She nods and mutters a terse “Please.”

He would not describe the rest of the dinner as ‘pleasant’ per se. She is sullen company. But he thinks that he sees a fraction less hostility in her and a fraction more resignation. He cannot count it as a victory. He has her in the palm of his hand already, he doesn’t need to talk her around to his point of view. Very soon it will not matter.

He picks at his dessert with sombre spirit. Milonas is not exactly a charming conversational partner. She is a stone-cold killer and has been a difficult, violent prisoner. Her duties in the Inquisition are doubtless often unpleasant. But for all her personal flaws she seems sincere in her faith. It is a shame to break her. He hasn’t the stomach to do it with protracted violence. Who knows how long it would take? He doubts anyone rises to the rank of Interrogator without a certain strength of spirit. No, he’ll do this the quick way and be done with this unpleasant duty. Strong or not, she is only human.

Once the table is cleared and the staff have departed, Tacitus sighs. “I am sorry,” he tells the Interrogator, “that circumstance has made enemies of us.” She is watching him uneasily, clearly picking up on his tension. He is not trying particularly hard to hide it. “What happens next?” she asks quietly. “Next?” He offers her a wan smile. “Next I return you to Inquisitor Bright. It would not do to hold one of her agents hostage.” She starts to relax fractionally, but he is not finished. “Unfortunately now, before I do that, I must make sure the message sent is very clear.”

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, and then start to widen in shock as Tacitus reaches for the veil that covers his brow. Her free hand flies up to shield her eyes, but it will not help her.

If she is strong she may survive this. If she is very strong she may even recover, in time.

He lifts the veil in a smooth, practised motion. His Eye snaps open. Warplight floods the room. His soul sings as he channels raw power.

The Interrogator screams. The hand that she clamps over her face is no defence. The Warplight shines straight through, like a knife. She sees what Tacitus Sees – the Warp, in all its senseless, unfettered splendour. The intensity of his Gaze burns.

She tries to stand, and falls back against the chair as the shackles on her wrist and ankles restrain her. Her scream pitches upwards through terror into raw agony. Her back arches and she throws her head back. Her fingers claw at her eyes, raking bloody paths through the bubbling flesh, pain insufficient to stop her from trying to rip out the visions of madness seared into her brain.

Tacitus screws his Eye shut, but the screaming does not stop. He feels queasy. He has only had to do this once before, and that was in defence of his own life.

The room stinks of burning flesh.

She screams and screams – a wild, wretched sound no living soul should ever have to make.

Tacitus scrambles round the table to her side, catching her wrist and trying to pull it away from her face to stop her doing herself any more damage. He shouldn’t care, but he can’t just watch. She struggles against his grip with shocking strength, and he finds himself shouting for assistance.

A minute or more passes in a whirling, nauseous blur. She stops struggling, at last, beneath the weight of hands pinning her against the chair. An aide holds her head still while another tries to fit a chilled dressing across the mask of charred and ruined flesh that is her upper face. She keeps making awful low moans, full of horror and pain. How much of her mind remains is impossible to tell.

Tacitus swallows grimly. He hopes that she is sufficiently destroyed. He hopes that he can send her back to Bright and let the Inquisition do what they will to save her. If she is still too much herself…

He does not want to have to do this again.

#my writing #my ocs #tacitus #ariadne #au: whumper tacitus #what if #tw gore #tw eye gore #tw burns #tw mindbreak

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