#i also am going to try cooking it at a different temperature and blocking the bottom w a sheet pan

[depresseddepot]

fucked up sourdough loaf #2 but this one is edible AND my mother did not mock me

#i think i overproofed it??? maybe??? #my starter was DEFINITELY active this time though #but the way the crumb looks means its either a) overproofed b) too young a starter to really bake well or c) both #my money is on the overproofing bc i really did stick it in a hot drawer for about 8 hours #didn't think too hard about the repercussions of that lmao #anyway NEXT week i will leave it in a relatively warm place and not in a spot directly above a heat vent lmao #i also am going to try cooking it at a different temperature and blocking the bottom w a sheet pan #because the bottom was Burnt. plenty of oven spring but it seemed like it was cooking too fast at 475 #maybe ill try 475 w the lid on and 450 without? maybe??? #or maybe 450 for the whole time #also i caved and finally bought a fucking dutch oven. every recipe calls for a dutch oven and i waited this long but i finally have one #its cast iron too and i love it #anyway: any tips for baking temps/times for sourdough? i tried 20 min with the lid on and 20 min with the lid off all at 475 #the recipe i used called for 500 and THEN 475 but that seemed really excessive to me #should i cook it for slightly longer at lesser temperature?

[sanjis-moulinrouge]

Lost Together

Zoro x Sanji

Summary: Sanji and Zoro are lost and injured, they end up discovering other ways of interacting besides fighting and bickering.

a/n: Fluff, it ended up being longer than I planned. Hope you enjoy it. English is not my first language, so my apologies if something sounds unnatural.

cw: swearing

AO3 link

It wasn't the first time that Sanji and Zoro got lost, but this time finding the right path was more difficult than they imagined. After a while of bickering, silence appeared with a feeling of concern. Zoro was trying to distract the cook with some light conversation, but Sanji was losing his patience.

“uhm, we should find a place soon, mosshead.”

“I see, you’re scared,” Zoro replied in a taunting tone.

“Shut the fuck up, don’t wanna hear you… I don’t know why I followed you. You’re a mess.”

Zoro began to move forward, he could no longer tolerate the chef’s comments because deep down he knew he was right, he couldn’t refute the complaints.

“Hey Marimo… hey, don’t you dare to get lost alone, I’m fucking tired” Sanji hurried to reach him while lighting a cigarette.

In silence, the walk continued for a long time, the smell of flowers and the noise of the birds relaxed and distracted Sanji from the fatigue his entire body felt. Zoro was also tired, but wasn't willing to show it yet, everything would be fine after sleeping.

“Cook, you look worried,” the swordsman added.

“I am! ‘cause we’re injured and we need to find a safe place to stay. The temperatures vary here… can you make a freakin’ connection? you idiot.”

The wind made the leaves of the enormous trees hum. In the distance they heard a thunderous fall, the ground started to quiver, a sound from beneath the ground began to approach them.

“Oh shit” Sanji growled. 

Without knowing where to go or how many times they’d already been there, they ran hurriedly.  As Sanji rushed forward, Zoro stumbled, the top of one of his thighs was bleeding noticeably. 

Desperation was evident on their faces, but Zoro was able to reach the cook who was waiting for him a short distance away. A colossal shadow followed them, twisting and changing shapes, its steps were heavy, they vibrated and echoed.

“Hurry uuup, Marimo.” Sanji finally spotted an entrance to what appeared to be a cave. Crouched, they crossed the threshold quickly, the vegetation was so abundant that it blocked the view from outside. The path expanded as they moved forward, which led them to a large subterranean area surrounded by trees.

“What the fuck was that? Did you see it?” Zoro muttered while he pressed his injury.

“I don’t think that massive shit could get inside. We’ll spend the night here” Sanji gasped.

Zoro nodded.

“I think for today we should be cautious and use some reserves, I’ll cook some vegetables, the weeds here will be enough to make a fire.”

Despite the shock, the cook's voice had already calmed down. There was something in Sanji's tone that conveyed tranquility to Zoro. Deep down he wasn't that bothered by the idea of spending time with him despite the conditions. 

The chef’s figure while cooking got him trapped, he moved gracefully as he cut and stirred the ingredients in the pan. When Sanji cooked he was on his own world, staring at how the vegetables sautéed, a cigarette melted in his fingers. His blue eyes were fixed on the preparation, his gaze was more intense than normal, which was fascinating to observe.

Zoro’s mind was blank, to re-focus he contemplated how the fire grew, its many shapes and its heat. Suddenly, the smell of food brought him back.

“Mosshead, here you have.”

Sanji, as usual, sat close. Despite the typical and senseless quarrels it had become a routine to eat together, but it felt different. Sharing together both extremely exhausted and bruised, made them feel exposed. Sanji didn’t know how to express with words the extra tension Zoro caused him. The swordsman wanted to avoid any contact that would reveal his impatience when Sanji was close. 

“mm…how’s your leg?” the blond mumbled while eating.

Zoro was focused and in a trance with the food, he only managed to gesture in agreement.

“Chopper left some bandages in the bag.”

“Forget about it, curly cook”

Sanji stood up with the dishes and Zoro gestured to help him.

“N-no need” Sanji said while clearing his throat.

The cook washed everything and wandered around the place while smoking a cigarette. As he walked he moved his arms, then gently tilted, bent and rotated the neck from side to side, he stretched and tried to massage some points on his back and shoulders, but the pain remained. 

Zoro saw how the cook struggled with the discomfort but didn't know how to help, so he tried to lie down next to the fire, covering himself with an old blanket, while the chef watched the sky. He began to relax with the warmth of the fire, falling asleep for a few minutes he felt Sanji around him.

“Ok marimo, let’s clean your mess” Zoro listened unguarded as Sanji uncovered him.

“Oi, dumbass. Don’t you dare!”

“You fool, I’m trying to help,” Sanji barked.

“Argh” Zoro hated to be surprised, the chef’s body was so close to him, making him vulnerable and uneasy. 

“C’mon damn swordsman, I’m freakin’ tired too. Show me the wound, move your clothes.”

Sanji’s radiant hands gently cleaned the area; the cook had let boiled water cool to try to disinfect the lesion. He gently pressed the spot, but still Zoro let out a whimper.

Sanji began to wrap the bandage around his thigh.

“Oh shit, it keeps bleeding.”

“You have no idea how to do this, it’s getting loose.” The swordsman was panicking, he had to try something to avoid the proximity.

“Let me try again” Sanji stressed when Zoro grabbed him tightly by the arm.

Sanji got alarmed, their eyes met.

“Stop, asshole. You don’t have to do this, you’re not a doctor”. 

The blond pushed him back and quickly tightened the bandage. Zoro felt the strength that Sanji had to hold him back.

“A-ah, you fuck-” Zoro gasped and blushed.

“See, you just had to collaborate.” Sanji was fighting internally not to act nervous, he succeeded.

At the unexpected interaction, Zoro sank into the blanket. He didn't feel so sleepy anymore, but pretended to be asleep to avoid any kind of future embarrassment. 

Sanji was still around, smoking and walking back and forth.

“Shit. I wish I could go to Kureha's place to fix my back again” Sanji muttered to himself. His pain wasn’t that big as it was in Drum Island, but still he needed help. He sat by the fire to savor the last cigarette of the night, he looked around a few more times to make sure they were alone and safe. This time Zoro wasn't snoring or he couldn't hear him because he was completely wrapped up.

As some things didn't change much, just like the routines they had on the ship, he lay down relatively close to Zoro.

Sanji's back hurt so much that he gave long sighs, making it difficult to induce sleep. Zoro noticed how the blonde was squirming in his spot trying to find a comfortable position. During a short period, he found some peace tightly curled into himself. 

Zoro observed Sanji's peculiar way of sleeping, brief twitches, sometimes he frowned, other times it seemed like he was hiding his body completely from something, until finally he settled face down.

Without a word, Zoro crept closer to him and began to slide his huge hand down the blond's back. He didn’t have access to Sanji’s face, which was better for him because he wasn’t sure of the possible reaction. 

Sanji let out a long sigh and moaned. “Mmh, who… wh-what?” He raised his body a little to look in the direction of who was making extended movements along his entire spine.

“The fuck are you doin’?”

Zoro moved quickly, preventing Sanji from changing position, he sat above the cook, having access to his entire back, accommodating the blonde's hips between his legs he pulled up Sanji’s shirt a bit. 

“Chopper can help me later, you-you fool… stop.”

“Shh, shut up” Zoro blurted as he looked at Sanji's bruises all over his back.

“You have some crazy shit here. Who hurt you like this?”

“Some shitty bastards, weird creatures… similar to the one who followed us, smaller tho.” 

“You made it to escape at least.” Zoro replied while pressing Sanji’s back.

“A-ah fuck… it hurts”

“You’re so cold, shitty cook... and the bonfire is still there.”

Even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t resist. The warm hands made Sanji feel very satisfied, Zoro squeezed his neck and upper back carefully and slid his palms back down his sides. Circular strokes were also stimulating, other movement came from the waist, the fingertips all gathered to an even point. Zoro wasn't sure if those massage attempts were the right ones, but at least Sanji's face showed some relief at times.

The swordsman looked closely at the chef's back, besides the bruises, there were quite a few moles. Also, grabbing his defined waist gave him chills, his heart was racing, he had to take some deep breaths to make his agitation go unnoticed. The chef finally was feeling a little pleasure within the stinging pain that burned his muscles.

“We’re done... I kind of owed you this.” 

Zoro settled back into his place. Sanji turned towards him and got closer. 

“You have a small cut under your eye” the cook lightly touched the area, making Zoro move back as a reflex.

“Oi, oi… go back to your place, weirdo” Zoro said abruptly and frowning.

The temperature began to drop sharply, Sanji was shivering from the cold, he moved looking for the warm areas of his blanket.

Zoro opened his eyes, the sky was clear, there was enough light to see that the blond was fully covered but shaking. He got near and stretched out his blanket. Sanji turned around facing him, Zoro hesitated… his brain was collapsing.

Sanji’s sleepy eyes were trying to focus, until the cook managed to look at him intently.

They stared at each other for a few seconds

“The scratch… on your face” Sanji mouthed. 

He brought his hand closer to the wound, his fingertips felt like electricity to Zoro. His heart was pumping again, he trembled.

On an impulse Sanji crashed his lips against his. Zoro's head was spinning, unable to utter a word, he held the cook’s face to prolong the kiss and make the moment endure.

Their breaths become agitated with the tension. The chef pressed soft kisses to his forehead, eyelids and nose, unable to stop themselves, their lips met again. 

Zoro pressed rough, wet kisses up from Sanji’s neck to his jawline.

“Sh-shit” the blond cooed as he caressed and pressed the swordsman’s head against his chest. 

He deepened each kiss, biting and capturing Zoro’s lips again and again. They just stopped to contemplate each other’s faces in half-light. The blond loved to brush the outline of Zoro's moistened lips with his fingers. Back in the game, Sanji explored the taste of Zoro’s collarbone and neck, his skin was warm and salty, palpitating. He tenderly slid his hand down his chests and abs, stroking Zoro’s waist moving down towards his hips.

This was way better than fighting and bickering. Their tongues clashed, stifled by Zoro’s kiss, Sanji released the faintest whimper, pleading for more. Nibbling their lips, both moaned passionately, suffocated wrestling with their tongues, they savored and sucked their lips before pulling away. Dirty and soft kisses all over again, both were enraptured by pleasure.   

Sanji moved to fully embrace Zoro, he was yearning for his body but his back cracked, knocking him down.

“Ooh, fuuuck” he screeched.

“Uhmm… crap” Zoro gasped. “You need to rest, lovecook.” 

“BUT… we” he protested when suddenly Zoro smooched him gently.

“Slow down or I’ll kick your ass” 

The swordsman grabbed him slowly to flip him over.

“Stay like that, don’t freakin’ face me” hugging him from behind. 

Still restless, Sanji felt Zoro's imposing body warming his back, his chest trying to catch a normal pace of breath. The green-haired man placed kisses against the back of his neck, against his hair, and along his shoulder.

“We have to rest, you said we need to find the crew”

“Yes, but we have something pending on the menu” Sanji uttered in a flirty tone.

“Argh, you damn cook, sleep!”

#sanji #zoro #sanji x zoro #zosan #one piece fluff #one piece #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #opla #zosan fanfic #zosan fluff #sanjis-moulinrouge-fiction #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro x sanji #zosan fanfiction #op zosan #one piece fanfic

[the-empress-7]

Tips for Staying Cool with no Aircon

1. Stay indoors. If you have to go outside, seek shade.

2. Wear natural fibres (cotton) or moisture wicking fibres (like gymwear). I prefer cotton myself as it is the coolest fabric I have found for that weather.

2. Wear loose clothes. You want the warm air from your body heat to be able to move away from your body, and not stay trapped next to the skin (trapping it next to the skin is for winter).

3. Your feet will swell. Your body will swell. It is normal to feel puffy. Another reason to wear loose clothes. Make sure you have shoes that fit if you have to wear them (I go for mules/clogs as otherwise my feet swell so much I can't get the shoes on. Thongs are also good).

4. Eat little but often. I like a good hot curry on hot days, but my friends swear by cold food. Whatever route you go, cook it in advance. You do not want the stovetop on or the oven (they add extra heat to the house). Cold food from the fridge or stuff you can heat in the microwave is best.

5. Drink. Drink a lot. I go through 2-3 litres of liquid on hot days - water, flavoured water (with infusions), hot tea (yes I am nuts, see curry eating above), milk, cordial - whatever works for you. I don't like fizzy drinks as I find they don't hydrate me that well. You may differ,

6. Eat salty food. I always need more sugar and more salt on hot days. The sugar comes from the cordials, the salt comes from snack food (salted nuts, soy crisps, potato chips/crisps, prawn crackers, savoury biscuits etc). Find a favourite salty snack and eat it during the day.

7. Do the pinch test to test for dehydration every couple of hours. Also check your urine by colour. If you are becoming dehydrated, drink more and/or eat wet food (cucumber, watermelon, ice cream spiders and so on).

8. Each ice blocks, paddle pops, ice cream etc. It will cool you down and put some liquid into you.

9.Stay as still as possible. This is a day to be lazy if you can.

10. Use a fan. Water or ice in front of the fan will turn the air from thee fan cold (ice is best for this). Just having the moving air is a huge relief on still days.

11. I keep my windows open when it is cool (eg night time, early morning) and then shut when the air heats up, so the hot air is outside the house and not inside. I draw the curtains and blinds to keep the heat out of the house during the day. However, you still need light to see by as turning the lights on also heats up the house, so you will have to adjust accordingly. 

12. Awnings over windows and doorways, or even a canvas on four poles planted next to and above the door, will stop the heat from coming into the house. I have deep verandahs on my house which help a lot, but I know they are not common everywhere.

13. Some houses need a window open for ventilation, even in hot weather. If you are opening the windows, try to set up an air tunnel with them, so you get breeze through the house (for me that is one downstairs window and two upstairs windows open a tiny bit, you may be different).

14. Sprinkle water on your sheets if you can't sleep at night. The evaporation will keep you cool.

15. I use this for babies and small children: Make a 'tent' out of wet cotton sheets and chairs or chairs and a broom. The sheets need to be fairly damp. I wet them in the tub and then squeeze out the excess water. Turn the fan on and have it blowing across the wet sheets.The evaporation will drop the temperature in the 'tent' within five minutes. You can do this without a fan but the temperature drop will be slower. You have to keep wetting the sheets for it to keep working. I either check and spray every hour or put trays with water in them at the bottom of the sheets, with the sheet bottoms in the water. The sheets suck the water up and keep wet that way.

If it is really hot I set this up for the night over a mattress on the floor, and everyone sleeps on the floor in a 'tent'.

16. The closer to the floor, the colder the air. Tile floors are cool to sit or lie on. If you want them very cool, mop the floor with water and the evaporation with leave the tiles cold underfoot (or underbody if you are lying on them). 

17. Check the shops for cool bed toppers to help with sleeping.

18. Ice in a face washer or a wet face washer that has been frozen or just a wet face washer on certain parts of the body will cool you down (head, neck, underarms, elbows, wrists, groin, behind the knees, feet). I put my feet in a bowl of cold tap water and that lowers my temperature very quickly.

19. If you need ice cubes, make them in advance and make double the amount you think you will need.

20. Some shops have neck handkerchiefs or scarves that you soak in water and the fabric/beads in the fabric absorbs the water and then helps to keep you cool. Firefighters use the neck hankies (I have no idea what their proper name is). My friend who suffers from the heat uses a scarf with beads in it. The scarves are like this one: https://www.instructables.com/Cooling-Scarf-Look-good-and-stay-cool/

21. Know the signs of heat exhaustion and heat stroke. Seek help/follow the advice while it is mild and before it becomes heat stroke. https://www.redcross.org.au/emergencies/prepare/heatstroke-and-heat-exhaustion/

====

Anon, this was very kind of you to type up and send in. I shall pin it to my blog for the next couple of days.

#heat wave #psa

[talvin-muircastle]

Post from an old blog

From the days before Tumblr:

(Also, I don't go for stiff peaks anymore. I just get it well and truly frothed up and it does fine.)

Quiche Me, You Fool! The following is something I found while I was cleaning out my email boxes, in this case, my "Sent Mail" folder. It was funny then, it's still funny now.

Tonight I find out that my wife promised all her blind friends (we are talking several email lists worth, here) that I would share my recipe for Quiche.

Well, she promised, I had to deliver. So, I emailed it to her.

Dear Heart,

Here is how I make quiche.

Step 1) Select the main ingredients. I use cheddar cheese, either pre-shredded or a block that has been diced, along with one of the following:

A) Diced pre-cooked ham B) Strained ground beef or C) Cooked bacon that has been thoroughly crumbled. I usually cook it crisp, cram it in an old (clean) butter tub, and shake the heck out of it. Instant bacon bits.

There are lots of other possibilities, ask around or look online.

Step 2) Procure a crust. You want a deep one. You either:

A) Get the Jiffy Crust Mix, follow the directions, roll it out, lay it in the pie pan and trim the edges, OR

B) Buy a frozen premade crust, and lie and say I did it using the method found in A.

I run about 50/50 on these methods, you don't seem to notice the difference.

Step 3) Preheat your oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. I don't know what that is in Celsius, I am an American, and my educational system teaches me just enough to know that if I visit another country the temperature will sound different, but really be the same. In any case, ovens vary, so use your best judgement.

Step 4) Throw the cat off the counter.

Step 5) Grab 6 eggs and a half pint of heavy whipping cream. Crack open the eggs into a mixing bowl, add the cream. Whip this mixture until it forms stiff peaks. If you cannot see and you don't know when it is at stiff peaks, just whip it good and hard and hope you broke up all the yolks. If you can see and you are not sure when you have reached stiff peaks, you must be me. Do as for cannot see and you'll survive.

Step 6) You are using eggs and cream, and probably there is cooked meat to be had. Yell at the cat, smack her on the rump, and toss her off the counter again. You surely feel better now.

Step 7) Place the main ingredient in the bottom of the crust. Add a layer of cheese. Pour the whipped mixture on top of that. About half the time, it will overflow some. Be prepared to deal with this.

Step 8 ) The cat is on the counter again. You know what to do.

Step 9) Carefully place the quiche on the middle rack of the oven. Set the timer for 30 minutes. With our oven, after 30 minutes, you have about a 60% chance of it being done, otherwise try it about 5 to 10 minutes more.

Step 10) Your quiche is done. Grab a knife or pizza cutter, resist the urge to use it on the cat, toss her off the counter, and serve. Careful, it's hot.

Step 11) If you are a man, never, ever, ever let the redneck with the pickup and pit bull down the street know you eat, never mind make, something called quiche. Yes, Real Men Eat Quiche, but opinions differ, and we need harmony in our lives.

Bon appetit.

Love, Talvin

#humor I guess #quiche

[snackhobi]

pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you’re used to being in love with taehyung. you’ve had a lot of time to get good at it, after all—by this point you’re the world’s expert at keeping your less-than-platonic feelings hidden from him, what with the amount of practice you’ve had.

but then he signs up for a massage therapy course, because apparently you can never catch a break.

or: the one where taehyung gives you a full body massage and then some.

warnings: sexually explicit content, massage with a happy ending (literally 🤧), cursing, edible massage oil/lube, fingering (f), unprotected sex (be safe when you have sex please), multiple orgasms (f), oral sex (m), cum swallowing, pet names, body worship?, brief mention of shower sex

a/n: I swear this was meant to be pwp. this was literally meant to just be pwp with some massage shenanigans. and then I blinked and it had become a soft 13k fic which honestly… kicked my ass quite a bit. but I hope you enjoy it!! thank you as always to @hobi-gif​ for beta reading this and encouraging me and putting up with me changing this multiple times, what would I do without your support miss hope?

--

Taehyung goes through a lot of different phases.

He just finds so many things interesting. Photography, art, art history, music, fashion, thrift shopping; heck, there was even the time he got weirdly into making tea and became some sort of connoisseur, going through the whole rigmarole of buying the loose leaves and weighing them out, checking the temperature of the water, brewing for a precisely measured amount of time.

You still remember the look on his face when you said it all tasted like hot leaf water to you.

Because, of course, as one of Taehyung’s best friends and his roommate, you’re inevitably swept up in everything he does. You’re used to the weirdly acrid smell of photo development fluid and how cold dark rooms can get. You use phrases like chiaroscuro and sfumato to describe the simplest things after listening to Taehyung do the same for so long. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve tripped over his saxophone case when he leaves it lying around the apartment. You regularly wear the baggy t-shirt with the face that Taehyung had painted on it—even if you still refer to it as the Squidward-House-Shirt despite the fact you know he was inspired by Basquiet and Schiele and not the Easter Island themed stone head that Squidward lives in.

You don’t mind getting dragged along with whatever he does, honestly; you don’t have time to attend every class, but go with him when you can. It’s always good to expand your horizons. You also love watching Tae’s face whenever he learns something new, the various expressions that flit across his features—from wide eyed excitement and eyebrow raising astonishment to the more solemn side that appears whenever he’s taking something in and thinking deeply about it, turning it over in his mind, mulling on it.

(You love watching Tae’s face all the time, actually, but that’s a whole other can of worms you’d rather keep shut.)

However, the latest course he’s signed up for is not one you’d been expecting.

“Massage therapy?” Your face twists in equal parts confusion and surprise.

Taehyung’s dropped this latest nugget of information while you’re cooking, trying to fry some rice while also peering at the phone screen that’s been thrust into your face. You’re not bad at multitasking, per se, but Taehyung’s iPhone is drifting so close that you’re almost cross-eyed and it’s blocking you from seeing what’s going on in the pan. 

“I had a coupon,” he says, as if that explains everything. (It doesn’t.)

“Scooch,” you say, and he immediately moves so you can turn the gas off.

“Jiminie and Jungkookie say that my massages help with dance, and that's just from Youtube tutorials.” Taehyung continues to talk as you bustle around the tiny kitchen. He’s already set the table so now he’s free to watch you finish doing the rest of the work. “And Joon-hyung says I have the perfect hands for it.”

You fumble with the pan as you’re scooping the steaming rice into a large bowl, only just managing to save food from scattering everywhere. You’ve thought about Taehyung’s hands a lot, about how large and long fingered and beautiful they are, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Really? Huh. That’s nice.” You stare at the pan, fixated on getting every grain of rice so you can avoid looking at Taehyung’s face. And hands. Which are still cupped around his phone. Which looks so small in his big, pretty grip.

Jesus Christ.

“It means I can give you massages if you ever start to get tense.” Taehyung sounds pleased, lovely grin on his face at the prospect of being able to rub his hands over you. As if that isn’t going to make every single one of your muscles lock up and turn you into some sort of coiled rope of a human being, which is the complete opposite of what a massage is supposed to achieve. 

“Great.” Despite your inner turmoil, your voice is level and steady as you meticulously scrape the last grain of rice into the bowl, chasing the tiny fleck of white around the huge pan. Scrape, scrape, scrape. “Sounds fabulous. Can’t wait.”

Of course Taehyung would sign up to learn something that he could use to help his friends. He’s so big-hearted and loving. Big-hearted and loving and kind and funny and affectionate and beautiful and deep-voiced and so entirely overwhelming in every single way imaginable. 

You do what you always do when confronted yet again with your all-consuming crush—you bottle that shit the fuck up until he’s not in the room.

And then you have a miniature breakdown at Pickles.

“I am going to die,” you whisper-scream. “He’s going to offer to massage me and he’s going to get a bottle of massage oil out and he’s going drizzle it onto his massive hands and I am going to fucking die.”

The bearded dragon cocks his head as he stares at you. Taehyung had come home with the reptile one day, tank and all, saying that someone on Facebook had been giving him away because they were moving house and could they just look after him for a little while, please, pretty please? Until they found a good home for him? Please?

That was over a year ago. (You’ve always been bad at saying no to Taehyung.)

“I hate my life,” you lament to the lizard, but then you hear the noisy flush of the toilet and know that Taehyung is going to emerge from the bathroom soon, so you have to wrap this miniature meltdown up pronto. “I wish I was a bearded dragon too, you know. All you do is get fed and sit under the heat bulb. Your life is so easy. You don’t even know what capitalism is.”

The silence you get from Pickles is far more support than you get from your human friends once you tell them. Yoongi just raises his eyebrows while Seokjin and Hoseok laugh outright in your face, just like they always do when you cry to them about Taehyung.

You need new friends. These ones are defective. (If only you’d kept the receipt so you could return them.)

“We learned how to do neck and shoulder massages today!” Taehyung says brightly after the first session.

You hum in response. You’re rewatching Pacific Rim together, cuddled up against Taehyung’s side, and you don’t have to turn your head to know what expression is on his face. There’ll be that little upturn to his lips, happiness at learning something new. That warmth in his eyes at being able to share it with you, even if you couldn't be there with him. Those little freckles on his face, under his eye, his nose, his lip; the one you’ve imagined kissing more times than you can count.

“My teacher says I have a natural talent with my hands,” he adds, and you’re so grateful that you can blame your sudden intake of breath on the scene that’s playing on the screen, as high stakes as it is. 

“That’s nice,” you say, and mentally pat yourself on the back at keeping the strain out of your voice. You've had a lot of practice at this. “I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always been good at doing things with them.”

That’s not a euphemism. Taehyung’s always so careful when he makes things; you’d learned how to fold different origami patterns together, matching crane for crane, lotus for lotus, and he’d always been so delicate with his fingers. He’s always so careful and considerate with you, too, fingers splayed wide across your shoulder as he squeezes you closer to his side, leaving you breathless.

“I wish you could come too.” Taehyung sounds disappointed. “We always have so much fun together.”

For the first time in your life you’re grateful that your manager at Olive Chicken is such a hardass and won’t let you swap shifts, so you’d had to miss signing up for the massage course with Taehyung—because you know there’s no way you’d be able to keep it together if there was some sort of tandem practice in class or whatever. Your crush on him is filled with equal parts of tenderness and lust and you’re well aware of that. You’d rest your hands on the soft skin of Taehyung’s shoulders and back, the lust would overwhelm you, and you’d immediately burst into flames like some sort of demon stepping over the threshold of a church. 

Why oh why did God have to make Kim Taehyung so hot?

Why oh why did God have to make you so… not?

You know Taehyung doesn’t see you in a romantic light at all. You’re grateful for this deep, platonic relationship you have, and you love him to pieces, but holy hell is it hard to walk around with Kim Taehyung looking the way he does and wanting to jump his bones while simultaneously being aware that it’s never going to happen. Whenever he smiles at you, or touches you, or holds you, it’s in exactly the same way as he treats any of his friends—and as happy as you are to be one of those friends, it also kind of kills you inside. 

(Because you know you don’t have a chance, have never had a chance, and will never have a chance.)

The idea of offering to massage Taehyung is one that makes you want to melt into a puddle of horny goo. But when he offers to massage you, it’s because you’re a convenient practice partner who he’s comfortable with. It’s no big deal. You could strip naked and slather yourself up in oil and stand in front of him with your bosoms heaving and say ‘Have at me, big boy’ and Taehyung would say: ‘Sweet! A chance to practice deep tissue massage! Gee, thanks for being such a great pal!’

The kind of deep tissue you want Taehyung to massage is very different to whatever he’s talking about.

… Anyway.

You manage to avoid Taehyung using his apparently magic fingers on you for a surprising amount of time, though you’re kept up to date with his progress, because he shares everything with you and tells you about everything and you always, always listen. Because, more than being your crush, he’s one of your best friends and you love him.

Which is why you try your best to be gentle, graciously refusing his offer of a shoulder massage after he sees you wincing, even if with anyone else you’d just tell them to back off with zero hesitation.

“It’s fine,” you say, flapping a hand at him. “I just slept on it funny.”

“A massage would help! It won’t take long, I promise. Five minutes? Please?” 

Taehyung’s looking at you with those big puppy eyes of his, pleading. You waver. You’re torn between being steadfast and avoiding a situation you’ve literally had nightmares about (Taehyung had offered to massage you, and you’d said yes, but then you’d fallen over as you were walking to him and suddenly a lasagne had appeared in your hands and you’d spilled it all down your shirt and he’d pointed and laughed and laughed and you’d felt so embarrassed that you’d woken up, cheeks burning), but then he pouts and you give in like the spineless and lovesick fool that you are.

“Five minutes,” you say, and Taehyung nods emphatically, looking pleased.

(You have the backbone of a chocolate éclair.)

You send quiet thanks to whatever God is listening when he doesn’t ask you to take your top off and doesn’t break out a bottle of scented oil. Instead he just asks for you to straddle a chair, clutching a plushie against your chest to cushion where it leans against the backrest, and tells you to get comfy.

“Just relax,” he says, as you desperately try to remember how your body works and coax it to relax like Taehyung wants you to. You fail miserably. You feel like a ball of rubber bands, each muscle a layer of tighter and tighter elastic that’s circled around you. “Lean forwards a little?”

At least Taehyung can’t see your face from this angle. You have no idea what sort of expression is twisting your features; consternation and horrified anticipation, probably. You're basically throttling your plushie, taking out your tension and frustration on the poor thing, Rilakkuma's placid face morphing into a twisted expression of sympathy under your grasping fingers.

“Perfect,” Taehyung says. The sound of praise in his deep voice has your insides turning into overheated syrup, hot and thick, dripping down and pooling between your legs. You hate yourself. Getting turned on by the most innocuous words from your best friend, really? Get it together.

The second you feel Taehyung's warm hands touch the back of your neck, your shoulders hunch up faster than a whiplash, a turtle sucking its head into its shell. Your friend laughs.

“This is the opposite of relaxing,” he says, voice warm with amusement. 

“You surprised me.” You dig your nails into Rilakkuma's soft brown fur. Taehyung just thinks you're not used to being massaged, not that you're being weird because it's him that's touching you. Because he touches you a lot. He’s just never done it like this. “Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he replies, unruffled and oblivious. “Let me try again?”

You bite your lip, desperately trying to quell the mix of arousal and tension that’s churning in your stomach, begging your muscles to unwind. You’ve kept your crush a secret from him for this long, you can keep that energy up. (You have to keep that energy up.) “Um. Okay.”

You’re still tense when Taehyung puts his hands on you again. The touch is warm through your clothes, firm but careful, digging into the sharp line of tension laid across your shoulders; despite the way your heart is threatening to launch itself out of your chest, you start to loosen up, because holy shit that feels nice, actually.

You melt against Rilakkuma and smother the bear's face in your chest. “Your teacher wasn’t kidding when they said that you’re good with your hands,” you mumble. 

You’ve never gotten a proper massage before but it feels so damn good that you can’t help but unwind, turning to jelly at the confident presses of Taehyung’s fingers and palms into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder. A little sigh spills past your lips when Taehyung starts to work at the part that’s been twinging after you lay crookedly on it, limbs akimbo in your sleep after a long night at work. “Oh, right there, Tae.”

Taehyung goes still for just a second before continuing, trailing his fingers over your shirt. “Here?”

Your eyes have drifted shut so you can focus on the sensation of that tension being pulled out of your body. “Yeah, right there,” you repeat, massaged into a state of lazy euphoria. The breath you let out is long and deep, catching in the back of your throat at a particularly firm rub of Taehyung’s hands; if you weren’t so blissed out you might be embarrassed at how much the noise you make is like a moan, but as it is, you don’t even notice. You just let out a little sound of discontent when Taehyung’s fingers stutter in their motions, displeased that he’s stopped even for a second.

By the time the massage is over, you’re so relaxed that you feel like you could melt into the floor, a wobbly puddle of unwound muscles and loose limbs. It’s official. You’re a massage convert.

“Holy shit.” Your eyes flutter open as you lean away from Rilakkuma so you can turn around. They’re the first coherent words you’ve spoken for a while; small sighs and sounds have been dripping from your lips and it’s only now that you’re able to regain your breath. “Tae, that was amazin—”

You’re met with the sight of Taehyung’s back as he power walks away, steps rapid, a little shaky, awkward. Before you can ask what’s wrong, he’s stepping into the bathroom. 

“I need to wash my hands,” he says without looking at you, before the door slams shut.

You don’t remember Tae telling you about how quickly you have to wash your hands after finishing a massage. But, thinking about it, you suppose it makes sense—you know, with massaging multiple clients or whatever—even if it’s surprising exactly how fast he’d hoofed it away from you. It sounds like he’s switched both taps on full blast as well, noisy even through the wooden door, and judging from how long he’s in there, he’s being very thorough. Hand washing must be a lot more important than you’d realised. 

Once Taehyung emerges, his face is a little flushed, cheeks a soft red. You wonder if the hot water tap is playing up again and filling your dinky bathroom with hot steam, and make a mental note to look into it. You smile at Taehyung from your perch on the sofa, Rilakkuma plopped on your lap, smile spread across your features; one that Taehyung returns, as pink-faced as he is.

“How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“So much better, honestly,” you admit. It’s incredible. He hasn’t even finished the course yet and he's already this good. He really does have magic hands.

“I’ll have to give you massages more often,” Taehyung says, though the end of the sentence trembles a little. He must be light-headed after all the steam in the bathroom.

The thought of more massages doesn’t fill you with as much mind-numbing trepidation as it might have earlier, utterly languid as you flop across the sofa, muscles uncoiled after the lovely touch of Taehyung’s even lovelier hands. No wonder people rave about spa days if they leave you feeling like this. Maybe if you’d been staring at Taehyung in the eye when he’d been touching you, then you’d feel a lot more awkward—as it is, it’s no worse than usual. Your crush is still all-encompassing but you also got a massage out of it, so.

“Sounds great.” This time you don’t even have to fake your excitement. “Now come sit your butt down so we can order some takeout and decide what to watch.”

When you bend down to speak to Pickles later, the bearded dragon is lolling on his favourite branch. “There’s still a high chance that I’m going to die,” you say in a low voice, before you flick the lights off so the lizard can sleep. “But he hasn’t broken out the oils yet, so I think I’ll be okay for now.”

--

Your luck doesn’t last.

“Strawberry and champagne, lychee martini, mint mojito, white chocolate, or tropical coconut?”

You look up from where you’re painting your toenails. “Huh?”

Taehyung bundles into the room and throws himself onto your bed, flopping on his belly and ignoring the way the mattress is jostled. You, of course, are used to his antics, which is why you’d swept your open bottle of nail polish up before he could spill it everywhere.

“What do you think sounds best?”

“Well, that depends,” you say, squinting at your toes and carefully sweeping the polish over the freshly buffed nails. “For candles, I think they sound pretty nice. For sauces to pour over a steak, I’d say I’d give them all a hard pass. What’s it for?”

“Massage oils,” Taehyung says blithely, too busy staring at his phone to see you muffle a curse when your hand slips and you paint your entire little toe blue. “I was wondering which you think sounds best.”

“Oh. Uh.” You fumble to clean your toe and salvage the now-terrible pedicure you’re trying to give yourself. It was only a matter of time before massage oils were going to become part of your life. Taehyung never goes into things half-hearted, so of course he’s going to invest in oils, too. God’s sake. You can never catch a break, can you? “Why these ones in particular?”

Taehyung pauses for a suspiciously long time, but it gives you the chance to furiously rub at your toe while he’s distracted. “We get a free bottle from the course,” he says eventually.

Huh. Okay. “That’s pretty neat. What was the last one? Coconut? Stick with the basics, can’t go wrong with that, right?”

“Coconut is always tasty,” Taehyung comments absently, and you glance up from your Smurf toe.

“Agreed, but it’s not like you’re about to eat massage oil, are you?”

Taehyung pauses, and then buries his face into his phone screen—suddenly very intent on rereading the list of ingredients in each bottle, it seems. “No, of course not, you’re right,” he mumbles.

He’s almost finished the course. He’s not going to be an accredited masseuse or anything, but you definitely think he could be, if he wanted to—you’ve never had less tension in your shoulders and neck in your life. Taehyung always eases his way into your personal space anyway, casual and effortless after years of friendship, but now you’re used to his fingers sliding over the back of your neck, a gliding touch, sending tense little goosebumps over your skin while simultaneously making you melt. 

“It’s pretty cool that you get free stuff, though.” Your toe is clean, thankfully, no longer blue. “And not just, like, a generic bottle of oil or something. They all sound really fancy. I didn’t realise that you could get massage oils that were scented like that?”

Taehyung makes a non-committal noise, which is uncharacteristic of him, but you’re too focused on repainting your final nail to pay it too much mind, letting out a loud huff of triumph when you’re done.

“Get me a bag of shrimp crackers, please?” You have a sudden craving but you don’t want to penguin waddle to the kitchen and risk getting anything on your wet nails. “Ya girl is hungry.”

“Got it.” Taehyung rolls off the bed without protest. You’re used to his antics, and he’s used to yours, indulging you whenever you feel lazy or want him to do something for you. “You need me to feed you?”

“I wasn’t going to use my toes to feed myself,” you laugh, but Taehyung ends up feeding them to you anyway.

When you recount the list to Seokjin later, his face crumples in a way that’s equal parts offended and disgusted. “They all sound terrible,” he says. “White chocolate should stay in chocolate form and not be turned into an oil. Why does massage oil even have to smell like anything?”

You’re both holed up in the tiny smoking nook behind Olive Chicken; neither of you smoke, but it’s a good excuse to go outside and get fresh air during longer shifts. 

“Hey, don’t ask me, I’m not the one who’s taking the course. I think lychee martini sounds interesting, though.”

“Agree to disagree.” Seokjin unwraps one of the complimentary chocolates the restaurant gives to diners with their bill, swallowing it whole. “Besides, we all know Taehyung could approach you with dirty, used fryer oil and you’d let him dip you in it.”

You slap the next chocolate out of his hand before it reaches his mouth. He’s unmoved and simply plucks another from his pocket, which is apparently bulging with them.

“Yoongichi,” Jin says, calling to the delivery boy, who’s just appeared from the dark like some tired-eyed spectre of fried chicken. “Tell me this. If I were to ask you what smell of massage oil you’d prefer, what—”

“I would say that I really could not care less.” Yoongi flops down on one of the rickety fold-out chairs before silently accepting a chocolate from Seokjin’s stash. “And then I’d ask why you’re asking me in the first place, seeing as you’re the one using it, not me. If Taehyung’s asking what massage oil you’d prefer, Y/n, it’s because he wants to rub it all over you specifically.” Yoongi munches on the chocolate, already filling in the blanks without needing to be told the context. You really are that transparent, huh. “Please, we’ve been over this.”

Jin pouts. “You ruined my set up. I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Oh no.” Yoongi remains blank-faced. “How terrible.”

“I hate both of you,” you say. “I’m going to tell Pickles how mean you are.”

“I bet if that lizard could talk, he’d tell you how tired he was of you two dancing around each other, just like the rest of us,” Yoongi says.

There’s no dancing around, though, no matter what your friends say. Well. Not on Taehyung’s end anyway. You’re out here doing the fandango, castanets and all, while Taehyung just stands stock still, oblivious.

You let out an incredibly long sigh. Seokjin hands you a sympathetic chocolate.

The massage oil doesn’t make an appearance in your life for a little while, though. The end of the course comes and goes, Taehyung proudly flapping the laminated certificate at you, wobble-wobble-wobble, filling the apartment with the sound of rippling plastic. But no coconut oil.

The scent of ‘tropical coconut’ has started to haunt your dreams, in a way that’s both good and bad; when you wake up in a sweat, heart pounding, it’s not because you’re having nightmares, let’s just put it like that. It’s like there’s an invisible countdown that you can’t trace and it’s only a matter of time before it ticks over and the shoulder massages (that you’ve gotten very comfortable with) edge into something different. Taehyung’s going to innocently offer to give you a backrub and uncap that bottle of scented oil and you’re going to explode into a mess of putty under his hands.

Well… then again… you had been worried about that with all the shoulder rubs. Now look at you. You weather those like a champ. Sure, your skin tingles and you run hot and you think about the sensation of Taehyung’s hands gliding over you whenever you’re alone, but you’re basically fine. Your friend who just so happens to also be the great love of your life remains none the wiser.

You bet a full back rub would feel great after a long week.

Which is why when Taehyung steps into the apartment with a look on his face that you immediately recognise as tiredness, you sort of wish you knew how to massage people, too.

He falls into your arms with little fanfare. It’s been one of those days, one of those ones that everyone gets, even Taehyung—he’s usually so Switched On and Exuberant and Alive, and people don’t seem to realise that even he feels exhausted, sometimes.

“You alright, bubs?” You can’t massage him but you can rub his back soothingly, let him snuffle against your neck. Sometimes you think about that little space between your chin and collarbones as Taehyung’s, a hollow that’s perfect for him to press his face into, hair tickling your chin as he curls up into you. His and his alone. “Did something happen?”

He just shakes his head.

“Okay,” you say.

(Close proximity and skin on skin with Taehyung doesn’t always have your pulse rising and your heart racing. Sometimes it’s just this: quiet and soft, your heart bright with fierce affection for this boy, the only thought in your mind that you want him to be happy, forever.)

The long silence is broken by the sound of Taehyung heaving in a breath before letting out a long, exhausted sigh. 

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and low, far less energetic than his usual self.

“Nothing to thank me for, Tae,” you reply. “Always here for you. You know that, right?”

He doesn’t respond straight away. He just burrows closer, draped over you, until he murmurs, barely audible. “Why?”

Your face twists. “Why, what? Why am I always here for you?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung squeezes himself impossibly closer, skin warm against yours, forehead pressed to the skin of your neck. You can’t see his expression from this angle.

“Because you’re one of my best friends and I love you,” you answer, immediately. You don’t even have to think about it. “Because you’re important to me and if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. I’ll celebrate the good things in your life with you, and I’ll be at your side during the bad times, just like you are with me. Please don’t ever forget how much I love you, okay?”

There’s a pause, and then it feels like all the tension leaves Taehyung’s body, slumping his whole body weight against you. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I love you too. Thank you,” he says again. You just reply by squeezing his shoulders.

He’s a little quieter for a few days after that. You’re not sure why, because he’d perked up after a lazy evening of lying around and eating too many snacks, flopped against you like an oversized, clinging starfish—but you’re gentle with him nonetheless. 

(Well. You’re always gentle with him. It just takes you half a second to fold in the face of his whims, rather than a whole, full second.)

So when the dreaded bottle of oil finally appears, you’re far less ready to fight off Taehyung’s insistence on a full body massage, caught off guard after days of indulging him. Fuck. 

“You’ve had a long week!” Taehyung insists as you scrabble your way over the sofa’s backrest so you can hide behind it, clutching a cushion to your chest. “You need to relax!”

Without looking you fling the cushion over the sofa. Judging from the fact that Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, you’ve missed. “I was feeling perfectly relaxed until you started yelling at me about it! Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me being relaxed?”

Taehyung doesn’t respond. Oh, crap. Maybe you did hit him with the cushion?

You pop up from behind the sofa. Nope. It's an embarrassing distance away from Taehyung, who’s got that surprisingly large bottle of oil held loosely in his hands. There’s an expression on his face that you can’t decipher; a little crestfallen, a little unsure, but there’s something else there, too, something you can’t put a name to.

“Taehyung?”

“I just… wanted to help,” he says. “You’re always there for me when I’m not feeling great, and you calm me down, and I wanted to do the same for you.”

You immediately feel like the worst human being alive. Take the feeling you get whenever you accidentally step on an animal’s tail, multiply it by infinity, and that’s only just a drop in the ocean of awful, awful guilt that you’re drowning in. 

“Oh, Tae,” you say. Your voice comes out so much softer and sweeter than you mean it to, but you can't help it. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. It’s really nice of you to be so concerned. You just surprised me. You do help me relax and your massages are great.” (You tell him that often enough that he should know it, but it never hurts to repeat a compliment.)

His face lifts. It’s like the sun bursting forth from the clouds after heavy rain, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes, blinded by the brightness and beauty. Kim Taehyung is so unfairly gorgeous (but what else is new?). “So I can give you a massage?”

Despite the fact the prospect makes you want to fling yourself into space, when you’re faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes and wide smile and large, warm hands, you cave, because of course you do. If, way back when you’d first been frying up that kimchi rice and letting Taehyung thrust his phone into your face, you’d been told you’d end up in this position, you would have laughed outright. Haha, yeah, sure, like you’d be stupid enough to let yourself be wrangled into such a vulnerable state in front of Taehyung, nowhere to run, helpless under his fingers. Not.

But here you are. Whipped for Kim Taehyung, forever and always.

The pastel blue towels under your stomach and chest are soft as they shield you from the cold, hard floor. You’re incredibly aware of how chilly the apartment feels, air prickling against your bare skin; you shift to try and get comfortable, glancing over your shoulder to fiddle with the towel that’s draped over your hips and ass, making sure it’s covering everything. Taehyung insists on authenticity (as if you’re not lying on the floor of your apartment rather than on a massage table) and he says that it’s normal to be completely naked for a full-body massage, even underneath any towels that are covering you up.

Authenticity is also why he’s in the other room, warming up the massage oil, because that’s apparently a thing?

(You’re going to die.)

It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will only be able to see the back of your head, your shoulder blades, the small of your back, a slip of your thighs, your calves. None of these things are especially scandalous; all the parts of your body that someone might find more interesting are out of sight, pressed against the floor or hidden under a layer of Egyptian cotton microfibres. 

And yet you can’t help but be hyperaware of how you’re entirely unclothed. Even if it doesn’t bother Taehyung—what with, you know, the fact he’s not interested in you like that and doesn’t find you attractive at all (sigh)—embarrassment creeps hot and uncomfortable under your skin.

It just feels so crazy intimate to be laid out like this, even if people do this all the time, happily strip down to let professionals rub the tension out of their body. 

(Then again, most people aren’t best friends with their masseuses and haven’t harboured long, one-sided crushes on them, either.)

Just breathe. You can do this. You love the shoulder massages that Taehyung’s been giving you; just think of this as a shoulder massage. 

… A shoulder massage that involves warm oil, near-nakedness, and Taehyung’s hands sliding all over you.

… You are going to have a very long venting session with Pickles after all this.

You’re so distracted by your own self pity and distress that you don’t register the sound of Taehyung entering the room; the little pause when he steps over the threshold, feet stuttering, just for a moment. It’s only when he’s kneeling down that you notice his presence, body jolting from surprise before you let out a slip of high laughter.

“Jesus, Tae,” you say. In any other circumstance, you’d be clutching your chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He sounds genuinely apologetic.

Your cheek is pillowed on your arms. When you turn to look at your best friend you immediately regret it; he’s settled back on his ankles, knees spread wide, and you come eye-to-eye with his crotch.

In an effort to look away from his clothed dick, your gaze flies up to his face, which might be even worse. He has this intense look in his eyes, and wow, alright, you’ve never been able to see Taehyung’s face as he’s been massaging you, but you never realised exactly how seriously he seems to take it, judging from his expression.

(Do all massage therapists look like that when they work?)

“That’s alright.” You’re a little breathless, but you’re going to blame that on how your boobs are smooshed into the floor, and not on anything else, nuh uh. Shoulder massage. It’s a shoulder massage. It’s just like a full bodied shoulder massage. (Maybe if you repeat it to yourself often enough then you’ll actually start to believe it.) “Uh. Do you need me to… do anything? Or do I just lie here?”

Taehyung’s expression lightens a little at the uncertainty in your tone, smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “You’re perfect right where you are,” he says, and then he reaches for the bottle of oil.

You turn your head away again, cheeks burning. There’s no way you’ll be able to handle the visual of him slicking his fingers and palms up. “Cool,” you say, voice only a little strained. “Coolcoolcoolcool.”

(It’s not cool.)

You don’t have a visual, but you do get the auditory experience thanks to the relative silence in the apartment. Goosebumps ripple down the back of your neck and trail down your spine at the sound of Tae’s hands sliding against each other, thoroughly coated in the warmed oil, and you’re so glad that you can blame it on the chill in the air.

At first, it’s okay. Taehyung starts at the parts of your body that are used to receiving his attention, though it’s different without the barrier of clothing in the way, not to mention how easily his palms glide over you, the air full of the light scent of coconut. It’s different, but manageable, and you think you just might be okay; as always, his touches are firm but careful, and your body is used to this by now, relaxing.

But. The second you feel Taehyung’s touch between your shoulder blades, you stiffen with a shiver. The oil is the perfect temperature against your skin, but you’ve always had a sensitive back; you can’t help but clench your fists, digging your fingers into your palms. Relax. Just breathe. 

“You’ve got a lot of tension here.” Taehyung’s voice is low as he digs the heel of his palm into the dip of your spine.

It’s because you’re touching me there, you think to yourself, but just let out a non-committal hum of agreement instead. 

You feel Taehyung's hands, a repeated sliding motion between your shoulder blades; the tension starts to leak out of you again, but your breath hitches in your throat at how you're pressed downwards and into the cotton towels beneath you, nipples hardening against them.

Thank God you're on your front so Tae can't see what effect he's having on you.

“Better?”

Taehyung's voice is always deep, but you'd swear it was even deeper in this moment, pitched low. Maybe that’s because the sound of blood pumping is filling your ears so it’s hard to discern. At this point, who even knows? Not you, that’s for sure.

“Yep.” Why are you so breathless? You haven’t moved at all, but you sound like you’ve just run the 100m sprint, winded and weak. “So much better.”

You regret agreeing to this. You are so out of your depth and there’s no way you’re going to be able to hide exactly how much this is affecting you and you want to collapse in on yourself and shrivel up like a sundried tomato, tiny and wrinkly and underwhelming. 

Taehyung shifts to reach more of you and you squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t come face first with his crotch again, shielding yourself from the view of his loose linen trousers stretched almost taut with how wide his knees are. It’s both a blessing and a curse—a blessing because you’re saved from aforementioned view, but a curse because your sensation of touch is heightened, and all you’re aware of is his hands sliding down your sides. You’d swear those fingers were so long he could circle your waist with ease.

(Massages are meant to relax you and yet you’ve never felt so tense in your life.)

Taehyung clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth. “I can’t get a good angle like this,” he mutters.

Before you can think anything or say anything, you become aware of the sound of moving and shifting and—

Your eyes fly open. Taehyung’s straddling your thighs, heavy and warm, and you suck in a breath so sharp and fast you can feel your chest expand, brain full of the screaming clang of warning bells. There’s no way this is a normal masseuse thing. There’s no way. It’s intimate and entirely too physical and there’s absolutely no way that this is something Taehyung learned in class. 

(What is he doing?)

But then any coherent thought in your brain slips when his hands settle on you again.

They so, so lightly brush the hem of the towel that preserves your modesty, and you can’t help the full-body shiver that wracks through you. You suck your lips into your mouth, swallowing down the noise that threatens to bubble up in your throat. There’s the sensation of fingers trailing up the line of your spine, feather light, smoothed by the slide of oil, and you feel like molten lava, burning hot and bright.

“Taehyung.” Your voice is high and faint.

His fingers splay down your ribcage and run down your sides, confident and smooth, warm with that coconut-scented oil, and you’re dying, you’re living; you want to disappear, you never want this to end. 

“Taehyung,” you repeat. Your voice shakes.

He hums, low and indulgent. “Yes?”

“M-my thighs,” you stammer, unable to articulate yourself. Why are you on my thighs, oh God, you’re so warm and heavy on top of me, oh God oh God oh God.

Taehyung completely misunderstands you. “Oh? Of course.” He sounds nonchalant. “I’ll massage those next.”

You can feel the drag of his linen trousers against your skin as he moves down to rest on your calves, and hear the bottle open as Taehyung drizzles more oil over his hands, far more than he could possibly need. His palms feel so broad and warm against the smoothness of your thighs, touches firm and confident as he digs his fingers into the muscle, and, oh, fuck, this is, this is too much—

Your legs jump when Taehyung hitches the towel up, just a little, baring more of your body.

“Fuck.” You can't keep quiet any longer. “Tae, I’m fine, I’m feeling way less tense now.”

He’s still, for a moment, before his hands slide up the back of your thighs. “Are you sure? You want me to stop?”

It’s only then that you realise how deeply Taehyung is breathing, fast and low, voice rough and gravelled. His fingers rest in wait, warm and slick with oil; you’re so close to losing any modicum of modesty, only one motion away from that towel being rucked high enough that there’s nothing protecting you from Taehyung’s touch and eyes.

“I haven’t finished yet, though,” he continues, digging his thumbs into your skin as he pulls his hands down your thighs, mindlessly following the motions he’s been taught. “There’s still more to go.”

You could twist around to look at him but you’re almost afraid to look at his face, afraid of what you’d find there. He sounds as affected as you are, but there’s absolutely no way. There’s no way.

“You don’t need to do the whole massage if I’m feeling relaxed, right?” 

(Because you’re feeling so relaxed right now, of course, and not like you’re about to go supernova and burst into heat and light. Absolutely.)

(But.)

(But. Taehyung’s hands settle at the back of your knees, swiping the sensitive skin with his thumbs. You can’t see his face, but you can feel something in that touch, something more than skin deep, like it’s sinking into you, through skin and muscle and bone, in in in, settling inside you, a flicker of—of—)

“Want to do this perfectly for you,” he murmurs. You clench your hands at the husky note in his voice, nails digging so hard into your palms it hurts. “You deserve the best. I want you to feel good.”

He must be able to see your back rise and fall as you breathe in sharply.

“Taehyung.” Almost pleading. 

“Yes, love?”

You suck in another sharp breath. The pet name sounds so soft and sweet in his mouth, somehow, even with the heated edge to his voice. One that’s definitely there. You’re not imagining it. 

(You’re not.)

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he continues.

Before you can think, you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

You’re trembling. Taehyung’s still heavy and warm across the back of your calves, sliding one hand to the inside of a knee and up the soft skin of your inner thighs. You instinctively shift them apart, as far as you can with Taehyung trapping your legs, and, oh, his hand is going higher, oh—

His hand is so big, cupping your overheated sex. It’s hard to tell where the oil ends and your own arousal begins, flushed wet and hot; when he dips his middle finger between your lower lips, long and gentle and firm, you let out a noise you didn’t realise you were capable of. The angle is off, a little awkward, the motions of Taehyung’s fingers stifled by how you’re lying flush to the ground, but God, you’re so turned on it barely matters.

You’re hyperaware of everything. The soft touch of air on the cooling oil across your skin. The fall of the towel, bunched around your waist, slowly slipping to one side. Taehyung’s hand, his fingertips easing through the heat of you, sliding over your clit, over your entrance, slow and soft and amazing. 

“Again,” you plead. “Again, Tae, please.”

“Feels good?” He asks, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, cheek still pillowed against your arm.

“So good,” you say. “But I want more, please, Tae.”

“Anything you want,” he murmurs.

Taehyung’s hand shifts between your legs again, so hot, so big, so reverent. The slide is smooth as his fingers press into your folds, practically gliding. You twist beneath him, letting out a noise of displeasure when he draws his hand away, but then he lifts off your calves. You let him thrust your legs apart before he resettles between them.

Just as you’re distracted with the towel being tugged away from your hips, baring you entirely, Taehyung slides a finger into your weeping cunt.

You whine. It's so long. Now that your calves aren’t trapped, there’s nothing to stop you from rutting back against his fingers. He splays his other hand over the soft flesh of your ass, encouraging the rolling motion of your hips, and you’re gasping, wanton in your noises of desire and pleasure. One finger becomes two, and then three, Taehyung’s voice a low undercurrent to your stuttered moans as he presses them as deep as he can.

“Just like that, angel,” he breathes. “Want you to feel good, keep making those pretty noises, let me know how good it is—”

“Taehyung,” you whine, dragging the syllables of his name out when he curls his fingers inside you, so amazing, hitting you in all the right places.

“Baby.” He sounds wrecked, words sliding together, and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You’re so hot n’ wet, fuck. So perfect. Just like that, keep moving like that.”

You can hear the slick sounds of his thrusts into you. He’s already learned what you like, twisting his fingers in a way that leaves you breathless; they’re so fucking long, sliding into your greedy cunt with ease, reaching so much deeper than your own can. His pretty lovely hands are on you, inside you, and you’re heady at the thought.

“There, Tae, don’t stop, please, p-please.” The coil twists tighter in between your legs, a taut thread that’s ready to snap. He listens, repeating the motion that’s pulling you closer to the edge, eyes wide, staring at the way you’re writhing underneath him; the way the oil on your back and legs shimmers in the light, the evidence of his touch all over you, shining. “Tae, oh, God, right there, yes, yes, yes—”

Your entire body goes tense and then you’re cumming around Taehyung’s fingers, clenching your thighs together, trapping him inside as you buck your hips. You grind back against his hand, a loud moan falling from your lips, drowning out the noise of awe that Taehyung makes when he feels your walls pulsate around him. You're warm and tight and wet, arousal flooding thick against his skin, and he lets out a stuttered groan, fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, feeling every wave of pleasure that rocks through your core.

You’re panting by the time you settle back down and barely make a sound when Taehyung drags his fingers out of you. When he leans down the oil on your skin feels tacky against his clothes, material sticking to you, chest to back, hips to ass. You can feel the hot curve of him through his trousers, his cock heavy, getting harder—and it feels sososo good.

Taehyung’s face is so close, now, chin hooked over your shoulder. Even though you can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against you, the smile on his face is so gentle. Your heart thrums in your chest.

“So cute n' pretty,” he says, and presses his nose to the soft curve of your cheek. Rather than coconut, all you can smell is his shampoo, familiar and homely and heady. “All over. God, I can’t believe you’d let me touch you like this. I’m so lucky. Was that good, baby?”

“Yes,” you say, and then, because you’re still floating in a light haze of disbelief: “I’m the lucky one.” 

Taehyung laughs, low and quiet. It’s a honeyed moment, dripping slow and sweet, even sweeter when he tilts his head forward. His lips are soft against your cheekbone, your jaw, and when you turn towards him, they’re even softer against your mouth. You can feel the shape of his smile, and it tastes so bright, small kisses that turn open mouthed, so perfect. Because you’re kissing Kim Taehyung, your Taehyung, something you’ve been dreaming about for so long, now—even if this entire situation is pretty unbelievable, honestly.

When you pull back, his eyes spark with unadulterated joy. He’s warm and heavy, pinning you down against the towels that are soft against your front; arching your spine, you lean back against the weight of Taehyung’s body, his cock fattening up through the layers of clothes that separate you. He lets out a breath of surprise before he grinds down, pressing that hard heat against you, and your cunt clenches.

“Can I finish the massage?” He asks, sounding almost eager, even with the rasp of lust in his voice. You can’t help but laugh, an affectionate giggle that has you knocking your foreheads together.

“Of course,” you say, and he catches your lips again, swallowing the last of your laughter, sweeping his tongue over your lips, inside your mouth, wet and hot and a little messy, but good. 

“You need to be on your back,” Taehyung continues, slow after the kiss is broken, and, oh, okay, that has you shivering. “If you want to?”

Of course you want to.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let me move.”

He shifts to give you room, but not before pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, the bump of the top of your spine, lips sliding against the oil that he’d rubbed there earlier, goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“So good to me,” he whispers. You don’t think he even means for you to hear it. 

(It’s said without thought; not thoughtless, no, but a soft little thing that says so much. A thought that’s slipped across his mind and fallen from his lips, warm and tender. Like you’re always good to him, and he sees it, he knows it, he feels it, he thinks it, and he’s almost in disbelief about it, because you’re so good to him.)

You feel warm and languid after cumming, loose-limbed as you flop onto your back. There’s no going back now. There’s no going back from this moment, naked and vulnerable under Taehyung, nothing hidden away any more—the soft fall of your breasts, your stomach, the lines of your hips, your fingers tightening in the towels spread beneath you as Taehyung’s eyes drink you in, wide and overawed at the sight of your flushed cunt, ripe and slick and ready for him.

(There's no more hiding how much you want Taehyung to have you, body and heart alike.)

You can see the shape of your body silhouetted on his clothes, where the oil has seeped into the material from how close he’d been pressed against you. You can see just how affected he is, cock straining against the loose linen of his white trousers, and you bite your lip to try and stifle the sound you make.

“Look at you,” Taehyung breathes, kneeling between your legs. “You’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn. “Taehyung, please,” you say, embarrassed. You really aren’t, especially in comparison to model-gorgeous Kim Taehyung, eyes dark and full of heated lust, hair falling in his eyes, effortlessly beautiful, always.

“You are,” he insists. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

Before he reaches for the massage oil, he sucks the taste of you off his fingers, sloppy and messy. Your pussy throbs at the sight. And—you were also right about the visual being too much to handle, breath catching in your throat as you watch it drip into his broad hands. His palms shine as he rubs them together, interlacing his fingers, so graceful in their motions. You’re so wet from your orgasm, only getting wetter as you stare back at Taehyung, whose gaze has been heavy on you the whole time.

He starts at your collarbones. It’s even slower than before, and you ease underneath him, revelling in the softness of his touch. He sweeps his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, circling his long fingers around your wrists before lifting one of your hands. Your eyelashes flutter as he presses a kiss to your palm, a motion so full of adoration and tenderness it steals your breath away, and you squirm, shy.

“Tae,” you whine. “You can’t just do that.”

Of course he doubles down, lifting your other hand and repeating the motion, letting his lips linger between your head line and your heart line. “I can,” he says, words warm in your cupped palm. 

“I hope you didn’t do this in class.” Your voice is too weak for it to come out as the joke you mean it to be. 

Taehyung just shakes his head, mouth brushing over the tips of your fingers. “Only for you,” he says. “Did the whole class for you. I wanted—wanted an excuse to touch you more,” he admits, and your heart feels like it’s going to launch itself out of your throat.

“Then touch me,” you say, trying to sound confident even if your cheeks burn.

And he does. He lets your hands drop, gliding his touch back up your arms, down your body, over your legs; he massages your thighs and calves, digs his thumbs into the arches of your feet, circling his fingers around your ankles, shackles you don’t want to escape from. You feel so relaxed and lax, somehow, even if every touch has you biting your lip, anticipation roiling  in your stomach for what’s to come, Taehyung laying your legs down softly before he shifts back up, hands held out towards you—

—then he cups your breasts in his big, big hands and your back arches, fingers sliding over your nipples, glistening with coconut oil, circling them with the pads of his thumbs. You let out an embarrassing whine.

“Oh, Tae,” you beg. “More, please.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You smile at another soft, unexpected pet name, flustered, but then your eyes slide shut when Taehyung bends down to kiss your neck as he continues to run his hands over the swell of your breasts. He trails his lips over your oiled skin, shifts down, drawing a line from your neck to the valley of your chest, the hard line at the center of your ribcage.

“Tae,” you murmur, and then, feeling bold under the heat of Taehyung’s dark eyes— “Baby.”

He hums before laying another sloppy kiss against your sensitive skin. You can feel the curve of his smile in the kiss. “Yes, love?”

“Is it really okay for you to… you know… get that oil in your mouth? I don’t want you to get sick,” you say, concerned, even through the haze of your arousal. His lips shine with it, at how he’s been trailing his mouth over all the parts of your body that he’s touched.

There’s a short beat, and then Taehyung buries his head against your neck—in that little hollow that’s his, in a motion he’s done dozens of times. Except this time you’re naked and he still has fingers splayed across the soft skin of your chest, nipples dragging underneath his palms.

“You’re always so considerate.” His words are muffled against your skin. “It’s fine. It’s edible.”

“You got edible massage oil from your course?”

Taehyung hesitates. “No,” he admits. “I bought it. It’s edible and, uh. Safe for intimate use.”

You’re silent, just for a moment, and then you can’t help it. You start to laugh. 

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, body shaking with amusement. “Did you buy edible massage oil that you can also use as lube?”

Taehyung pulls his face away from your neck and glances up. You’re giggling at him, and he feels so full of love and affection; he can’t help but join in, both laughing at him, loud and carefree.

“It’s why I asked which one you liked,” he confesses, once he can catch his breath.

“I can’t believe you lied to me,” you say, but you don’t mind, really, and he knows it. You lift a hand to push hair out of his face, running your fingers down his scalp. He leans into your touch with a smile, bright and lovely, before he abruptly shifts one of his hands down so he can lick a hot, wet stripe across the skin of your breast.

That stops your laughter pretty fast, surprised hiccup shifting into a broken moan when he engulfs your nipple in the heat of his mouth. “O-oh,” you gasp. “Oh, Taehyung—”

“Been thinking about this for so long.” Taehyung’s eyes are lidded and dark as he leans back, watching the way you react to his touch, arching up towards him. “Wanted to touch you like this so much.”

“Wanted it too,” you breathe. “Wanted—oh, God, Tae, fuck—”

It’s overwhelming. Not just the way Taehyung is flicking his tongue over each of your nipples, pressing his lips against your skin, no—but the idea that he’s been hoping for this, too. Each wet motion of his tongue over your pebbled skin drags pulls out of you; Taehyung’s cock twitches at a loud keen that’s drawn from your lips, a wet patch of precum seeping through his boxers and trousers, darkening the fabric, even though you haven’t touched him yet.

When you reach out to grasp him through his clothes, his hips jolt forward and he bites off a surprised gasp, cutting through the sound with his teeth. He feels long and heavy as you stroke him, thumbing over the wet patch at his tip, hot, even through all those layers between your skin and his.

“I want to feel you, Tae,” you say, staring at him. “Inside me. Please.”

His breath hitches when you tighten your fingers around his shaft and drag your hand upwards, slow and intent. 

“The oil isn’t condom friendly,” he admits, abashed. 

“Then you can cum in my mouth,” you reply. No hesitation.

Taehyung’s eyes are so wide, but then he smiles, eyes squeezing into crescents, mouth turning up into that lovely, broad grin of his. He looks so sweet and sincere, and you feel like you could explode, stuffed overfull with love for him.

“You really are perfect,” he says.

“Only for you,” you reply, your smile just as bright.

He lays one final kiss to your chest, above your beating heart, before he starts to strip. The oil has obviously soaked through his shirt and onto his skin because it sticks when he peels it off and carelessly throws it aside. 

Just like his heart, Taehyung’s body is soft and lovely. You sit up so you can touch him properly, catching him off guard when you pull him in for a kiss—one he eagerly leans into, and without the shirt in the way you can feel the way your skin slides against his, softened with oil. 

There really is no one as beautiful as Kim Taehyung. You drag your hands over him, so warm and wonderful under your palms; his chest, his cute tummy, his waist, his hips, the soft skin above his red, neglected cock. He’s radiant in his nakedness, every easing line of his body so perfect as he kneels in front of you, the flush of his skin, the heavy weight of his arousal, head shining with precum, so wet it’s practically dripping.

You lean in to kiss his neck and nip at his Adam's apple as his hands slide over your shoulder blades and down your back, the parts that make you shudder.

“Want you, Tae.” You whisper into his mouth, a soft secret that isn’t really a secret at all, not any more. “All of you.”

“Going to give you everything you want.” The words flow out of him with ease. “Everything you want.”

His chest and stomach shine with the massage oil that’s rubbed off from your own skin. You run your hands across him, and when you finally grasp his cock without the barrier of cloth in the way, he’s almost burning under your grasp, thick, his entire body shuddering when you pump his length. So sensitive to your touch.

“I’m goin’ to make you cum again,” he promises, and you love it, the way he talks when he’s losing himself. “Bet you’ll feel so good around my cock, so perfect.”

A shiver skates through your body. Taehyung’s fingers dig into your skin when he feels you trembling under his hands, and all you can think about is how you want him in you.

“Please,” you say. “Please, wanna make you feel good too—”

“Hands and knees, angel,” he rasps, and, God, yes, those words cut straight through you, sharp and electric.

Maybe you should feel embarrassed at how quickly you obey. The towels underneath you, so carefully placed at the start, perfectly flat, become rumpled as you shift into position; you arch your back, wanting to look as good as possible, and glance over your shoulder to see if it works.

Judging from the look on Taehyung’s face, it does. He looks like he’s never seen anything more awe-inspiring, eyes wide and mouth a little slack, dumbstruck. But then his jaw snaps shut and he splays his hands over the soft skin of your hips, your waist, your ass, shuffling closer to you; you feel the curve of his cock slide against your skin and you bite back a noise of need.

“Fuck, so beautiful.” He ruts forward, and you can feel the wetness of his precum slicking against you, a beaded line drawn across the sheen of massage oil. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”

“Tae,” you plead, already overwhelmed with need, heart squeezing at his words.

“Just one more thing, angel, I promise.”

It’s a good thing that the bottle of massage oil is so big, considering how liberal Taehyung is with it. You gasp when he uses one hand to spread your ass and before you can react there’s a drizzle of oil falling onto your skin, down-down-down, over your cunt, dripping over your inner thighs; Taehyung catches the excess with his palms before he slicks himself up, spreading that sweet coconut over his throbbing cock.

(You wonder what it’ll taste like when you lick it off him.)

When you feel the blunt head of his cock nudging at your pussy, your entire body lights up in anticipation, nerve endings on fire, every inch of your body singing under Taehyung’s touch—and when he finally sinks in, it’s almost effortless. He’s thick and long but everything slides so easy; you gasp and he moans, both lost in how your body opens up for him, hot and wet. By the time he’s bottomed out you're a quivering mess, collapsed onto your elbows. You’re so full. You feel split open in all the best ways, wanting to draw him in impossibly deeper even so.

Taehyung is gripping your sides, hands unmoving even with the slick oil underneath them, fingers digging into your skin. He’s breathing so loud, and when you experimentally shift your hips, he bites back a noise that cuts through that breath.

“How’s it feel, love?” His words slur together in arousal, but the hand that strokes your back is slow, thoughtful. “Feel good?”

“Fuck me, Tae, baby, please,” you beg. It’s so, so so much, so good, amazing, hotter and bigger and harder than anything you’d let yourself imagine, your entire body taking Taehyung and holding him in, in, in. “Please, I need it, it feels good but I want more, please.”

When he pulls away it’s slow and torturous and he goes so far he almost slips out, cock nearly sliding out of your folds. You whine, a little shameless, mostly needy, but then—

The snap of his hips drives you forwards, towels shifting underneath as you scrabble for a hold on something. Each sharp motion of Taehyung’s body has you choking for air and letting out whimpers and gasps, drowned out by the slap of skin on skin; his hipbones meet the soft flesh of your ass, again and again, but all you can focus on is the thick heat of his cock inside you, in-out-in-out, the press of his balls against your clit, everything so wet and smooth and slick.

You can feel how you’re losing yourself to that heady place that’s golden bright with feeling, lust and sex, the rest of the world gone, unimportant. There’s nothing but this—Taehyung touching you, filling your body so well, so perfect, helping you chase that high that’s growing faster and faster, that precipice of pleasure that he’s going to throw you over again, intent on it.

One of his hands trails up your back, between that sensitive dip of your shoulder blades and into your hair, locks tangling with coconut oil before he urges you up. He doesn’t yank or pull but his hold is firm and you end up back on your hands, arms trembling as you try to keep your balance, back bowed, overwhelmed. 

“Baby,” he rasps. “Oh, you’re so tight n’ hot, so pretty, fuck. You feel so good, do you feel good?”

Your answer is almost a wail, so overcome with pleasure, sensation, the glide of his hands over your shining skin, the mix of oil and arousal that drips out of you, only getting wetter with each thrust of his hips into you. “So good, o-oh God, Tae, baby, fuck, oh, theretherethere—”

“Here?”

He punctuates this with a roll of his hips, using the hand still on your hip to pull you back onto his cock as he fills you up once more, throbbing heat. He bends over you, and this time, there’s nothing stopping the skin on skin contact, the slide of his chest against your back as he kisses the soft skin behind your ear, nipping at your lobe, and that’s it, you’re gone. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth falls open as another orgasm crashes through you, legs shaking as you cum around Taehyung’s cock, grinding back against him to drag out that pleasure; the only thing holding you up is the hand still in your hair, the lips trailing up the side of your bared neck, the hard cock inside you, keeping you against him, so many points of connection with Taehyung.

(His chest pressed against your back, heart beating so hard you can feel it, your own heart moving in tandem, matching him.)

He’s been whispering filth to you, heated praise and love, how good you feel, how beautiful you are, what it’s like to see you like this, touch you like this, have you like this. Lovely, pretty, perfect, gorgeous, hot n’ wet n’ tight, fuck, love, oh.

You’re still shivering, the final pulses of your orgasm curling through you with each unintentional shift of Taehyung’s hips, the drag of his length inside your inner walls. You can feel something dripping out of you; oil, cum, you don't know, but fuck, it feels so so good.

“Oh, God,” you say. Breathless. “Oh, Taehyung, oh.”

“Pretty darling,” he murmurs. He swivels his hips, grinding against you, and your entire body jolts with oversensitivity, clit swollen where his balls press against it. You tighten around him and groan at how hot and big he still feels inside, even as you still shiver from the come down of your second orgasm. “Gonna roll you over so I can see that perfect face.”

And when you’re on your back again, fucked out and mussed and wrecked, he just stares at you. You’ve watched his face for so long, seen so many expressions flit across his features, but never something like this—it’s a mix of amazement and awe and tenderness and lust and love, a lift to his brows and a spark in his eyes and a set to his lips.

And when he leans down to kiss you, that look doesn’t leave. It melts and softens around the edges as you catch each other's mouths, as you kiss and kiss, small tender things interspersed with longer, deeper touches, lips and teeth and tongue—his eyes darken and his mouth flushes darker pink, kiss swollen and so beautiful, but that expression stays. It stays for you. 

Kim Taehyung is beautiful and lovely and unique. Kim Taehyung is so far out of your reach it’s kind of stunning, actually. And yet, here you are, existence of his touch over every part of you, in every part of you, lust driven, love full; the carefully balanced weight of his body splayed over you, pinning you down, keeping you close.

“I wanna see you cum, Tae,” you say. “Please?”

And just like he always does, Taehyung indulges you, just like you indulge him. He presses back inside you, cunt opening up for him so easy, so smooth, like his touch has already been etched into the memory of your body, perfect for him. He stays pressed close, face so near as he rolls into each thrust, sweat and coconut oil painted across your skin as your bodies shift together.

He’s been covering you in his words, both heated and sweet, and now you return the favour. You tell him how good he feels, how beautiful he is, so good, so perfect, so considerate, how much you’ve wanted this. So good, so long and thick, oh, Tae, feels so good, ah-ah-ah, baby, you’re unreal, fuck.

You can see the exact moment he starts to reach his high, the way he sucks in air, the way he lifts his chin, starts to thrust a little harder, a little faster, chasing that thread of pleasure that’s spiralling through him, and you urge him on. You lift your hips and clench so tight it has him gasping, hips stuttering, and you press your nose against his jaw, saying give it to me give it to me give it to me, wanting him to feel the same pleasure he’s given you. 

When he pulls out, you’re too busy moving to pay attention to how empty you feel, settling between his legs and swallowing down his shining cock almost desperately. There’s no coconut. You can only taste yourself and when you lave your tongue across his slit it’s all Taehyung-Taehyung-Taehyung, hot and salt and bitter; he gasps and his hips jump and you take it all, lowering your head as far as you can, the head of his cock at the back of your throat before you pull up, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein at the underside, messy and wet. You drink down the wetness of his cock, your own arousal, mixed with his, the precum that beads at his head, staring up at him, your hands sliding over the sheen of his stomach, his thighs, cupping his balls, everything slick with oil and sweat.

“Oh, God.” Taehyung’s eyes are blown and his hair is a mess and his mouth is wide open as he pants for air, watching. “Baby, baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

You suck hard, dragging your lips up from the base of the cock to the rounded tip, swirling your tongue, bobbing your head faster—

“Oh, fuck—”

—and you swallow down each wave of cum, swallow down the way his cock twitches as he spills the evidence of pleasure into your mouth, swallow down the lovely noises that shudder out of him, watching him the whole time, never wanting to look away.

When you take your mouth off his softening cock, you draw a line of kisses with your mouth, up the soft skin of his body, stomach to chest to neck to mouth. He licks the taste of coconut oil off your lips, the taste of himself off your tongue; you curl up in his lap, settled against him, the apartment’s cool air even sharper against your skin, magnified by the oil that still lingers.

(Even without the oil painted across him, Taehyung would still shine, even under the weak light from the cheap lightbulb that hangs above you.)

You feel soft and warm and small in the circle of Taehyung’s arms, pulled close, and you can hear the words in his chest as he speaks, a resonance that touches against your skin.

“‘M sorry,” he murmurs. 

You pause.

“Baby, love, darling.” The endearments are sugar sweet in your mouth, soft against his skin before you pull back to look at him, confused, concerned. “Sorry for what?”

“I really—I really was just planning to do a massage, but you’re so…” 

You let out a slip of laughter. The room smells of coconut and sex, but when you lay your head against Taehyung’s collarbone all you can smell is the light tinge of his sweat. You breathe in, deep, like you can hold onto that ephemeral part of him. “Oh, Tae. I’m so what?”

“You’re so good,” he says. “So good and kind and lovely and—and so beautiful. I was going to do the massage to make you happy and then… tell you. About how happy you make me.”

You burrow your head into the hollow of his neck, the way he does to you, shy. “I’m not as beautiful as you,” you reply. “Tae, you are literally the most beautiful person alive, and—God, I’ve. I’ve been. So head over heels for you.”

There’s a pause. “Really?”

When you pull back to fix Taehyung with all the surprise in your gaze, you can see that he’s surprised, too. His hair hangs into his eyes, and he looks a little unsure, like he believes you, but finds it impossible to fathom.

You leave massage oil on his cheeks when you cup his face in your hands, staring at him with wide eyes. “Kim Taehyung, I have had daily breakdowns about the intensity of my love for you to Pickles ever since we got him. You’re the first person I think about each morning—usually because we wake each other up—and the last thing I think about at night—well, usually because you end up climbing into my bed more often than not, but, it still counts,” you say. You’re both tangled together in so many ways already. “You’ve had my heart for a long time, you know. I just never thought I had a chance?”

When Taehyung kisses you, it’s brief, a hard press of his lips before he rests his forehead against yours. “You really, really have no idea how perfect you are,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted—I want to do everything for you to show you how grateful I am for everything you do for me.”

“You don’t have to,” you protest, but he just smiles.

“I don’t have to, but I want to,” he says. “Like you don’t have to look after me, but you do.”

“That’s because I love you,” you say. “Like, capital L love you.”

You’ve been so afraid of confessing, so convinced that it was an unattainable dream; that Kim Taehyung would never, could never, has never seen you as more than a friend. But the way he’s looking at you now, the way he’s touched you, the way your body still echoes with the feeling of him inside you: you’re not scared, any more. You don’t need to be.

Taehyung’s eyes are so dark and warm when he replies, easy and effortless. “I love you, too.”

Your relationship has always been a give and take, is the thing. When you climb in the shower together, he washes the oil from your back while you massage shampoo into his scalp, laughing when he makes devil horns in his hair. He catches you by surprise when he presses you against the tiles, swallowing your moans when he coaxes one final orgasm from your tired body, rubbing tight circles over your clit as you buck against his hand and water cascades over you both. His cock hardens in your hands, sliding between your legs when you press them together, tight-tight-tight, his length rubbing against your cunt as he fucks your thighs until he’s moaning and shaking and cumming again.

(The water’s cold by the time you finally climb out, but that’s okay. You giggle and kiss as you dry yourselves, each other, excuses to keep touching and feeling, driven by affection, not lust.)

When you’re both clean, and dry, Taehyung’s leg thrown over your hip as he tugs you in, flush with his body under the covers, you press your lips against the line of his jaw.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes, angel?”

You smile and hunch up even closer to him, scrunching yourself up as small as you can to plaster yourself against his side. “Thank you for the wonderful massage. Definitely the best massage I’ve ever been given, ten out of ten, would do again.”

Taehyung laughs, pressing his rectangular smile into the kiss he lays against your lips, and you think that nothing tastes better than the happiness curling his mouth.

“Love you,” he murmurs. Always romantic. “I love you love you love you.”

“Tae-honey-hyung.” And it feels so nice to not have to filter your words, to bite back that second layer of meaning, to try and keep things platonic and chaste when you speak. “I love you.”

And it feels so nice to have your Taehyung beside you, your body still aching with the press of him inside you, a good ache, a nice ache. A physical ache from good love, rather than a heartache from a love you didn’t think was reciprocated. But it is, somehow, each of you so bowled over by each other.

--

(“Hey, Pickles.”

The bearded dragon looks up at you, placid as he lounges in his tank.

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that you won’t have to put up with me ranting at you any more,” you say. “Taehyung did break out the massage oil but it’s all good. I didn’t spontaneously combust or anything, like I thought I would.”

Pickles’ tongue flicks out as he shifts, and you smile.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done,” you finish. “Thanks, Pickles. You’re a real pal.”

Taehyung nuzzles into your neck. His arms are a tight circle around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he looks down at the reptile, too. He’s warm and solid against your back, and you lean into him, happiness tingling through you.

“I wonder how much longer we would have taken if you didn’t get that coupon for a massage therapy course,” you muse, and Taehyung chuckles, warm and lovely.

“We would have gotten there eventually. And we would have had each other until we did, anyway. Right, angel?”

Pickles stays quiet as you both kiss, but you can tell he approves.)

--

taglist: @beyoncesdragon​

#magicshopnet #btswritingcafe #taehyung smut #taehyung oneshot #taehyung x reader #bts #bts smut #v smut #v oneshot #v x reader #taehyung #taehyung fluff #bts oneshot #kim taehyung #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

[colossal-fallout]

First time with Reiner Braun ❤

Fem X Reiner

This is a little different. I wrote it so you can insert yourself or an OC.

  Warnings: NSFW. 18+ Smut and Fluff. 

A/N: Slight Canon divergent as Cadets take place when they’re in their late teens/early twenties. Other than that, it’s all the same. 

  Reiner had been acting weird all day; but [Name] couldn’t really blame him.  

The last time they were alone together, they’d ended up locking mouths in a steamy kiss. They hadn’t spoken about it since – they hadn’t really had the chance.  Between training and having their classmates around it was a perfect cover to avoid a potentially awkward conversation.  When Shadis announced that for this exam, they would be teamed up together, they had both internally groaned.  

Well, it was going to happen eventually. They’d had another two years of training, they were bound to wind up alone together again at some point. They’d both made sure that during the entire hike, they didn’t let one silence befall the conversation, which would force them to talk about the inevitable subject of their heated kiss.  

It was quite comical, actually.  

Constant talking either about their task, their friends or at one point even pondered and speculated if a person got a sunburn in front of a cannibal; would the cannibal start watering at the mouth?

Anything to not talk about the kiss.  

It’d been a whole week since the incident and it wasn’t like they didn’t want to address it. They just didn’t want to know the others thought on the matter.  They’d both had serious reservations about it; they were totally focused on training and not fooling around.  

And yet...

The kiss only fanned the flames of the huge crush Reiner has had on her since day one. The crush that, over the last thirteen months, had developed into something a lot deeper.  

He’d kill for her.  

He thought about that only earlier when she made a joke about something and it really tickled him to the core; resulting in a loud belly laugh. So, when the sun was starting to set and they had found a good place to camp for the night... that was when things would inevitably go south.  

“Hey Ba- uh, [Name] ?” Reiner called out in a chilled horror. Not only from the slip of the tongue, but also what he had discovered in their shared backpack.  

[Name] was only a few feet away, starting a campfire when a small laugh left her sweet lips.  

“Did you almost call me Bertolt?”  

No. I almost called you “babe”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. But we have a problem.”

“What is it?” she frowned, heading over.  

He pulled a large, folded bit of material out of the pack.  

“...We only have one tent.”

She looked at him like he spoke another language.

“So? It’s not the first time we’ve had to share a tent with a partner during training. I had to share one with Jean last year.”  

I bet Jean would have loved that...  

It was a running joke amongst the men about when they had to share sleeping quarters with the women, and how they’d lie on the very edge, all limbs tucked in and never once touching them for fear of a testosterone induced erection.  

“Yeah, but I’m a big guy.” He lied, not once being concerned about that at all.  

“Get over yourself.” She chuckled, nudging him playfully as she returned to what she was doing.  

Reiner solemnly obeyed and began to set up the tent, his frown pulling at his face the entire time.  He will not get any sleep – being so close to... her. Alone... Miles away from anyone.  

After they’d kissed.  

He swallowed hard as he fumbled with the poles, wanting to be out of this situation.  

Reiner Braun was desperately in love with this woman and he was supposed to be keeping away. If they kiss again, he’s a total goner. There would be no way he could reject her if she reciprocated his feelings even in the slightest. Luckily, their kiss had been interrupted so he didn’t know how she truly felt. He thought that if he never knew, it’s a problem he would never have to face.  

His fingers clumsily began to fix things together;  [Name] already having the fire going and preparing dinner.  

His eyes almost began to water at the thought that he was about to get her famous, amazing cooking.  

Sasha had been furious he was paired with her.  

His chest tightened and his head became fuzzy. He wished he didn’t have to be in such a complicated situation; he would just ask her to marry him already.  

“You need help?” her voice called over after he dropped the pole fixtures for the third time.  

“Huh? Uh, no I got it.” He wavered a hand dismissively without turning around.  

What the hell am I going to do? He panics in silence.  

Eventually the sun had set and the tent was erected, the two of them sitting by the fire after they’d eaten. The warm orange glow of the flames encased them cosily as Reiner sat back and patted his stomach in awe.  

“Amazing. As always.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” She beamed beautifully.  

 Surrounded by the trees under the stars and being embraced by the warm glow of the flames; [Name] now began to feel weird about their intimate moment they’d had.  It wasn’t very often they had time alone and her feelings for him remained the same since.  

They sat back, gazing up at the stars in a comfortable silence.  

“It feels like we haven’t stargazed in forever.” [Name] commented quietly. “I bet Marco is looking at them now too.”  

“Yeah, he will be.” Reiner marvelled.  

Another silence.  

He noticed she had been pretty quiet since they began relaxing by the fire.  

[Name] was wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. He’d had plenty of time now.  

Maybe he regrets it?

She bit her lip at the thought, her eyes lowering to the flames sadly. God, he’d grown on her a hell of a lot and she resented that fact. It hurt to think he didn’t feel the same.  

Reiner noticed this.  

Shit, she looks sad. Is it because he hadn’t mentioned the kiss? Should he ask her? There’s no way he would ever stand for her feeling down, let alone because of him.  

What the hell should I do?!

His brain hurt. More so, his heart.  

She flinched a little in surprise when he slowly creeped his hand across the ground and intentionally skimmed his skin across her fingers. He didn’t look at her though. It was his way of sending an impossible telepathic message of; Don’t be sad. I can’t say it but God, I love you.

She, however, assumed it was an accident.  

Ah hell. I’m going to have to mention it. I can’t see her feeling down.  

He took a deep breath.  

“You alright? You look a little down.” His usual façade of serious, concerned solider coming out.  

“Oh? I’m fine.” She lied.  

He knew she was lying. He knew her too well.  

“It looks like it’s going to rain though.” She noticed the thick clouds that were rolling in, beginning to block their view of the stars. “We should get some sleep.”

“R-right.” Reiner nodded, deflated.  

He didn’t know what he expected. His heart, body and soul ached for her lips against his again, but his mind screamed to stop being an idiot.  

As she went inside to get ready for bed, he stood and began to snuff out the flames of the fire, along with any hope he’d had of being with the woman he was so desperately in love with.  

----

  Sure enough, as they lay facing away from one another, the sounds of soft pattering began to tap the tent above their heads. They lay back-to-back with as big of a gap between them as possible; what the small tent would allow anyway. Reiner’s arms were tucked up around his chest and his eyes were wide.

[Name] had her limbs tucked away too but that was for a different reason – as always when she camped out, she was freezing. It didn’t matter the season. As soon as that sun sank below the horizon, her body temperature would drop.  

Reiner on the other hand was like a big insulated heater, sleeping in just his underwear under his sleeping bag. His heart thudded harshly against his large chest.  

She’s just there! Kiss her! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel...

 He’d been close to telling her a few times over the course of the last month or so. He couldn’t help it. Even before they shared that kiss, his feelings would bubble up to the surface and almost spew out of his mouth. He’d always managed to stop himself though, although it was getting increasingly more difficult each time.  

She was just so... perfect.  

Not only was she extremely attractive and half of his classmates wanted her, but she was strong. Smart. Funny. Caring... His eyes closed in a frown as he listed the endless attributes he loved about her in his head. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.  

Bertolt. Annie. Marcel. I’m sorry. I tried... I really did.  

He glanced back and that’s when he noticed her curled up in a ball, shivering.  

His eyebrows furrowed.  “...You cold?”  

“Y-yeah.”  

He instantly turned onto his side to face her, his sleeping bag rustling against the fabric of the tent.  

“You should have said something. ‘C mere.”  

With a sigh he sat up and began unzipping her sleeping bag.  

“What are you doing?” her teeth chatted.  

“Helping you warm up. I doubt you wanna get sick and miss training.”

She averted her eyes away from him when he unzipped his bag and fastened them together into a double. She knew he slept in his shorts.  

Her breath caught in her throat when he wrapped his big, strong arms around her and pulled her back against his warm chest, heat rolling off him and encasing her like a huge bear was holding her. His scent rolled off him and embraced her sense of smell, relaxing her immediately.

He kept his pelvis away from her, his manhood already stirring awake and he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.  

“T-thank you.” She whispered, still trembling.  

“Don’t mention it.” He sighed, silently kicking himself.  

I definitely won’t be getting any sleep now.  

Her heart almost stopped when his head rested and lay between her neck and shoulder, his hot breath blanketing her skin. Rushes of unexpected heat ran down her body to in-between her legs and seemed to just pool there.  

His brows furrowed behind her; inhaling her intoxicating scent silently.  

Although he was trying his hardest not to brush his hips against her, he still felt so comfortable having her in his arms like this, like she was supposed to be in them. He was meant to protect her. To care for her. To love her.  

His mind fluttered back to how he’d almost told her he loved her before. He’d hinted so hard but she just looked at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. When he was around [Name], it was like all of his troubles just melted away. Colours seemed brighter, his worries were brushed aside and life was just... amazing. She made him laugh, he could tell her anything (almost) and she always knew what to say to make him feel better after a particularly rough day. But to him, the best part of it all was how excited she got him for the future. One that was bleak and full of sorrow was spun upside down and into a promising one, brimming with all possibilities.

“I have something to tell you.” He said softly, not able to stop himself this time.  

Maybe it was being this close to her that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it made it easier that she was facing away from him.  

“Hm?” she hummed softly; her eyes closed and enjoying the warm embrace.  

“...I love you.”  

That was it. It was out.

There was no way to suck those words back into his lungs.  

The tense, pregnant silence within the tent was only filled by the light tapping of the rain against the material that covered them.

He felt her tense in surprise, her eyes flying open.  

She swivelled around to face him, her eyes searching his narrow golden orbs for any sign of deception.  

But there wasn’t any.  

A crimson flush washed over his cheeks.  

“I... I mean, you know –” he began before she silenced him by pressing her lips against his.  

Both of their eyebrows pulled back as if pleading above closed eyes, his hand cupping her face, thrilled to be kissing her once more.  

She pulled away, her own pink hue colouring her face.  

“You... Love me?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.  

He pressed his head against hers, closing his eyes and nodding.  

“ [Name] , I’m crazy about you.” He whispered in honesty. “I always have been.”

“...How crazy?” she teased, trying to tear away any awkwardness or negative feelings in his confession.  

He smirked. She knows just how to make him comfortable.  

He grinned slyly, looking in her eyes.  

“Oh, absolutely insane. I should be getting carted away to the asylum, with Sasha and her potatoes behind me.”

She laughed beautifully, her heart swelling with joy. Even from that dumb little exchange, confirmed to her that she definitely felt the same.  

“So, you don’t regret that kiss...? Last week?”

“Of course not.” He replied, eyes returning to a desperate pleading. “I was just having a hard time accepting that I’ve come to cadets to be a soldier and.... Ended up meeting the woman I wanna marry.”

Every word that left his lips felt like a warm pleasant jab to her heart.  

“You... Wanna marry me?” She whispers, totally blown away from the intensity of this confession.  

“I do.” He admitted shyly. “You don’t deserve anything less. It’s just how I feel... Sorry”

“You know...” she whispered shyly. “It’s more efficient to share body heat when you’re both naked.”

His eyes enlarged and breath caught in his throat.  

“That’s if... You’d want to.” She added adorably.  

“Are you sure?” he whispered, praying she would say yes.  

She nodded in reply.  

“I want you, Reiner.” She breathed. “I love you too. I want... you to make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Reiner was bombarded with emotion.  

Elation. Excitement. Arousal.

Not to mention he was beginning to wonder if this were a dream. If he were going to cruelly wake up next to Bertolt and his weird sleeping positions.  

There’d been countless times he’s imagined her utter those words in his head; sometimes while stroking his own cock.  

He’d lost count how many times he’d furiously tugged himself while she occupied his mind. But as his feelings for her deepened, it became less and less so; guilt always creeping into his conscience. He just respected her too much.

He propped himself up on his elbow, running his now trembling fingers through her hair.  

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He breathes.

“You won’t.” She shook her head. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I under –”  

He put his arms under the sleeping bag with great speed and shuffled a little, before pulling his shorts out and throwing them to the side.  

She let out a laugh when he returned to his original position with haste.  

He returned her laugh, rubbing his nose against hers.  

“Okay...” she muttered shyly. “Look over there for a moment”

He turned around obediently as she began to nervously undress under the now warm sleeping bag.  

All he could hear under the movement of her undressing herself was his heart pounding in his head.  

There’s no way this is real and happening.  

His cock was already hard at the thought of her undressing inches away from him. His previous reservations about being teamed up with her were quickly washed away as she threw her clothes to the side, before nestling back down and hiding under the cover.  

“Alright... You can come back.” She informs him.  

At the speed of a firing bullet, he turned back around; painfully keeping his eyes glued to hers.  

His arm flinched, about to pull her back into his embrace but he hesitated.  

“Are... you sure?” He asked again, not able to believe the situation.  

“Yes.” She giggled, nervously.  

His eyes enlarged and jaw slackened when he felt her satin soft skin against his, her bare breasts pressing against his hard chest and her lower stomach and groin against his solid erection. 

A gasp parted her lips as she felt, not only how hard he was, but how big.  

His arms snaked around her, his narrow orbs keeping their gaze onto her orbs as he pulled her now naked form against his.  

“R-Reiner...” she couldn’t help but stammer, her face heating up as well as her insides.  

A pink hue raises over his cheeks, not having really thought through the situation. He was nervous. He was excited. He was close to hyperventilating. 

Her lips softly press against Reiner’s once more, her fingers grazing across his scalp, her breathing heavy and needing. 

His arm snakes around her stomach, his brow pulled down and creased while his nose pushes out a blow of air, his heart hammering and his cock leaking with pre-cum. She could feel it weeping against her flesh as it throbbed and danced against her lower stomach. 

She pulls back for a moment; “Reiner. Only take me if you’re going to cherish me. This won’t be a one time thing for me...” 

He catches her gaze, lips parted and eyes still hungry. “Of course. I meant what I said.” 

She smiles - elated at his words as she returns her kiss, her hands roaming his ridged, solid muscles. 

His mouth moves down to her neck, slow and tender kisses - each one sending jolts of searing hot electric through her entirety. Reiner’s breath is deep; quivering and panting as he tries to hold back his eagerness and excitement. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long...” He groans, his large palm pushing her arm above her head as he hovers over her a little, his fingers interlocking with her own, still kissing her deeply. 

The pink hue across his face was deepening to more of a crimson, his eyes heavy lidded and jaw slack the entire time. The way he kisses her is with such compassion, such tenderness. He grazes his large nose against hers, hands caress her hair as he keeps himself steady over her, before gingerly rolling on top of her completely, keeping himself suspended with his forearms. 

He made sure every single graze, every grope was as gentle as possible - afraid of his lumbering huge form would somehow break her as they explored one another’s bodies, their tongues entwining in a slow dance within their mouths. Deep, short groans vibrated his throat and chest from time to time, and not once did that furrowed look of desperation leave his face. 

 The only sounds that could be heard was their kisses, whines and groans as well as their laboured breath and the pattering of rain against the tent. 

He suddenly stops their kiss, placing his head against hers and rubbing his large thumb across her cheek, back and forth. 

“I’m happy to just do this.” He breathes, wanting to prove to her that he really was just so happy she felt the same. “We don’t have to do anything else.” 

“I want to...” She replies, the snake coiled within her wrapped far too tightly to be ignored now. “I want you to make me yours. That’s...if you’d like.” 

He nods - returning his kiss, his top lip folding as his lusted haze results in him missing his mark slightly. God it was hard for him not to touch her between her legs. But he’s a gentleman. He didn’t want to unless he knew one hundred per cent that she was sure. 

Taking his fingertips, he nervously and slowly grazes them down her stomach to her pubic bone, pausing before taking a leap of courage - his calloused pads grazing down her clitoris and to her soaked lips. 

They both gasp at the sensation. The feeling of his warm, large fingers against her most intimate area was indescribable. And for him, her thick slick was heavenly. 

“Is this all for me...?” He whispers in awe and disbelief, his shoulder flexing with his movements as he continues to slowly stroke her. 

She nods, biting her lip. 

“Sh~~~it.” He swallows hard, eyes closing for a moment before returning to hers. “It’s my first time. I won’t last long.” 

“I don’t care.” She groans, pulling him by his head for another deep kiss. 

 As much as he wanted to enter her, he refused to allow himself. Instead his lips trail down her body, her eyes locked onto his broad back flexing with every tiny movement as his head moves, his lips connecting with every inch of skin it could find - his hands gently rubbing and massaging - memorising every single gasp from her mouth. Every hitch of breath. He would remember where he’d been when she made those noises and made sure he damn well took it all in. 

“Reiner, I can’t take it.” She eventually moans, writhing beneath him, fingers running through her own hair. “I need you. Please...” 

He instantly returns to her face, cupping it and his muscular back hunches - his free hand grabbing the large base of his shaft. 

“You ready for me, baby?” He breathes. 

She nods. 

He lines up his gleaming head before pushing gently, her tiny entrance being invaded by him as he hisses, her back bending with a loud moan. 

“ [Name]...” He whimpers, totally overwhelmed both with physical stimulation and emotion. 

He pushes again, a little firmer his head popping in past the first hurtle. 

“You okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s just finished sprinting a whole cross-country race. 

“Yeah...” 

He pushes again, her tight insides slowly ingesting him like a snake with a large meal - her ridges massaging him as they spasm with glee around him - his moans now a lot louder than before as he jitters to a stop at the hilt. 

“Fuck...” His tone sounds like he’s about to burst into tears as he slowly starts to pull out and slide back in again. 

The full feeling of Reiner Braun was better than ecstasy, his girth pushing and stretching her, his cock bending up slightly at the tip, already pushing against her g-spot as he trembles above her. With each slow thrust, her pleasure was pushed to an impossible new high, her nails sinking into his large back as she clung onto him for dear life - tears pooling at the corners of her orbs from how amazing it all felt. Like the only two people in the world were her and him, souls connected and swirling around the cosmos in the eternal dance of lovers. 

 “I can’t... Reiner. It’s too good.” She sobs, her insides now pulling in a rhythm as her coil tightens more and more. “I’m going...” 

“Oh, baby...” He groans, eyes rolling as he plunges a little faster. “Me too. It feels so - n’urgh. So good...” 

“Reiner!” She sobs hysterically as she snaps, coming undone around him as her legs tremble and head throws back. 

 As she unravels around him, her name leaves his lips over and over and over again, each time louder than the last as his thick and large cumshot explodes inside of her, his atomic detonation causing mass devastation as his legs quiver, eyes cross and even a bit of drool hangs from his mouth. 

 You are one special person to capture Reiner’s affections while he held such high walls around his heart for reasons not yet known to you. But you managed it, and god is it such a beautiful thing. 

#snk fandom #snk #reinerxreader #reiner braun #reiner fluff #reiner smut #attack on titan reiner #aot reiner braun #shingeki no kyojin reiner #snk smut #snk fluff #reiner x you #reiner x y/n #reiner x reader #reiner brainrot

[that-welder-dude]

Pro Hero!Shinsou Hitoshi x Pro Hero!Female!Reader (Angst)

"Maybe in Another Lifetime"

Please do not read if any of the following warnings are triggers for you. Please let me know if I missed any.

Warnings: Violence, mc death, anxiety attack, depression, extreme angst

Info

I made a hero name for Shinsou since there are no actual confirmed names, other than Mindjack in the card game so he is referred to as “Whisperer” throughout this fic.

Name: L/n Y/n

Age: 21 (You and Shinsou are Pro Heroes now)

Height: 5'5

Hair Color: (h/c)

Hair Length: (h/l)

Eye Color: (e/c)

Skin Tone: (s/t)

Hero Name: Thermo-Meter

Quirk: Temperature Control

Your quirk allows you to heat or cool a person's body temperature to the point of them freezing or being cooked to death. You usually don't use it to that extreme, unless it is an extreme case. The farthest distance you can use your quirk is 50 meters.

Drawbacks: Once you begin using your quirk, your body becomes slowly weaker and you have a much harder time moving your body, meaning you try to use your quirk at a distance as much as possible.

You and Shinsou have been together since your final year at UA, and once you graduated, he proposed and you guys became engaged. You are now both 21 and are Pro Heroes.

*****

-Third Person POV-

Y/N and Shinsou have been together for a few years now and are planning for their wedding to be the next coming fall. They are both extremely excited and have everything planned out.

But tonight, they aren't thinking about their upcoming wedding. They were thinking about this villain, who seems to have unlimited connections and numerous allies in this society. Y/N is currently doing research while Shinso is on patrol, while wearing an earpiece that connects him to his beautiful fiance at home. This way, if he needs any help, he can immediately have backup and Y/N can call for more if needed.

"How are things going out there, Hitoshi?" Shinsou hears a soft voice through his earpiece, making a very small smile appear on his face.

"Everything is quiet for right now, but now that I say that, I can't imagine it will stay like that for very long," he replies with a quiet sigh. He always jinxed himself when he said those words, but never seemed to learn his lesson.

There is a chuckle on the other end as Y/N laughs. "Just keep an eye out and let me know if you need backup, okay?" she says quietly, as if speaking too loud would alert people near her fiance that he was near.

"I will only ask you to come if I am in immediate danger," he says, frowning. He is always worrying about her because of the drawbacks of her quirk. Granted, whenever she uses it, she is very careful about keeping a distance so as to not get hurt.

He hears another soft sigh as she just shakes her head. "I'm not fragile, you know. I am quite capable of taking care of myself, that's why you are marrying me."

He lets out one of his beautiful, quiet laughs that only she gets to hear and nods, even though she can't see him. "That's very true, butterfly. I'll be back soon, I only have a few more blocks to patrol and I'll be back at the agency. I love you."

"I love you, too, Toshi."

Little do they know, they'll be seeing each other sooner than they realize.

~Small Timeskip~

"Themo-Meter, I need you to get here as soon as possible. I think I've found something, but I need some extra hands," Y/N hears through her earpiece. Immediately, she changes into her hero costume, which is a black, skintight body suit with a small belt holding different sized knives and blades. These were only ever used if absolutely necessary, but she always carries them just in case. She also wears a mask over her face, only showing her (e/c) eyes, with fingerless gloves and black, knee-high combat boots. She laces them up and mutters into the earpiece, "I'm on my way."

-Shinsou POV-

"Whisperer, I am here and a few others are on the way. What is your location?" Shinsou hears through the earpiece. "I'm around the back of the building."

After a few minutes, he hears almost imperceptible footsteps, ones that he had trained himself to listen for. Then he sees the person he had been waiting on. His beautiful fiance, Y/N.

"Who else did you call, Thermo-Meter," he asks, using her hero name, just in case someone is listening.

"Endeavor, Hawks, and Mirko, they were the only ones I could get ahold of." I nodded in response. "I think I've found him. Nightmare."

Nightmare's quirk is terrifying. He can make you see whatever you fear most by breathing in a gas that he secretes. So far, I have only fallen victim to it once, and I had known it wasn't real because the vision I saw that was supposed to be my worst nightmare, was Y/N getting killed. And I know that she would never put herself in enough danger to get hurt so bad that she was killed.

She, as far as I know, has never experienced it and I want to make sure it never happens. But tonight felt different than our usual battles. It's eerily quiet and there is a horrible feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I try to shake it off as best as I can, though, because even though my quirk is powerful, if the villain knows not to respond to me, I have to use combat. And I can't fight well if my nerves are getting the better of me.

All of a sudden, I hear a sound, almost like a thud. Y/N glances at me and I nod back, both of us moving in sync towards the sound inside the building.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye and whip around to face it and see a small time villain. He seems to realize we are not who he thinks we are and immediately shouts out a warning to whoever might also be in the building. I can only think of one thing.

'Shit, there goes our element of surprise.'

I don't panic, though, because Y/N is already using her quirk to freeze him, making him unable to move any more. I chuckle, knowing it won't affect her just yet, she hasn't used it very much tonight to cause any damage to her yet.

"Prepare yourself, Whisperer, we need to be extra careful now. We don't have backup yet and we no longer have surprise on our side."

She once again speaks softly, this time consciously, being very careful to not alert any others of our whereabouts just yet. She then nods to the stairs and begins to climb, me right behind her. Her steps are silent and careful, being the stealth hero she is known for being.

She suddenly stops, motioning for me to as well. We both freeze as we hear voices. "You heard him, there are heroes here now. We need to leave before they find us."

There is laughing, then a high-pitched male voice speaks. "You idiot, we want them to find us. Rumor has it, Whisperer has been working with an underground hero to locate me. Once I have him, I'll make him listen to me, not the other way around."

The first voice must be confused, because he laughs again. "Oh, you don't know what his quirk is, do you? Oh this will be so fun!"

Y/N looks back at me, nodding very slightly. I shake my head quickly, knowing she's going to try and get a look at the two voices to incapacitate them. If they see her, she's going to be in more danger than I think I can protect her from.

Once again, I hear a strange sound, only it's the sound of feet landing outside, just a few floors below us. Heavy footsteps follow softer ones into the building.

In my earpiece, I hear a new voice, but one I recognize to be Hawks. "Whisperer, Thermo-Meter, Endeavor and I have arrived, Mirko is on the way. What is your location?"

Immediately, the two speaking just a floor above us stop and go completely silent. That's not a good sign.

"Whisperer, Thermo-Meter, I repeat, what is your location?" I can hear Hawks voice start to shake a bit with worry. Then we hear Endeavor's gruff voice. "Go upstairs, they must be higher up."

Heavy footsteps are once again heard as they near us. Once they round the corner, I move in front of Y/N, higher on the steps than her now. Once Hawks sees me motioning to be quiet, he does the same to Endeavor. Hawks then leans in and whispers to both of us. "I'll go ahead, I can move without touching the ground, I'll be quieter."

We all three nod and see Hawks fly ahead of us, waiting for his signal to go ahead. After a minute or two, a red feather flies back to us and beckons us forward, Endeavor leading the way. A few more floors up is where we find Hawks, but not in a good state.

There stood Nightmare, with Hawks near his feet, sweating slightly and shaking from the fear he was experiencing. He must have breathed in the gas....

I hear Y/N suck in a breath behind me. This was not going to end well.

-Y/N POV-

I gasp quietly as I see Hawks, my best friend, on the ground, shivering like a leaf in the wind, fear evident in his eyes. I want nothing more than to run to him, but I know that will only sign my death sentence. So instead, I glare at Nightmare before pulling two small throwing knives from my belt, one in each hand.

He watches me and chuckles to himself. "Thermo-Meter, you must be that underground hero that is working with Whisperer to take me down, no? It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I'm afraid tonight will be your last."

I shiver at his words then twirl a knife in my hand. If I use my quirk, it could affect Hawks as well, he is too close to Nightmare. I feel my breathing quicken and my heart begin to race, so I try to take some deep breaths. Hitoshi shifts next to me, almost standing in front of me protectively. Endeavor clenches and unclenches his fist several times, knowing using his quirk will only endanger Hawks as well. Oh, how I want nothing more than to cook Nightmare alive.

Suddenly, there are footsteps behind us and I whip around, eyes widening at the villains that were climbing the stairs behind us. We are in some deep shit here.

-Third Person POV-

Very quickly the trio is surrounded, and Y/N immediately starts to use her quirk, switching between hot and cold to freeze or nearly melt some villains. Shinso begins speaking to them- well, more like yelling at them- trying to get them to respond. Some do and when they do, he immediately orders them to start hurting their allies. Endeavor begins making his way towards Nightmare and Hawks, intent on defeating the villain.

However, as soon as he starts to get close, Hawks looks up and in his fear filled, nightmare-ish state, he sees his buddy as a threat and stands to attack him. Y/N is quickly becoming stiffer and more weak but is trying very hard to not let it show. She begins to climb the stairs to get some distance between her and the continuing flood of villains.

Mirko arrives on the scene and immediately start calling every pro she can get ahold of and once she is sure they are on the way, bounds up the stairs, taking out villains left and right. She eventually makes it to where Y/N is and immediately sees how tired and weak she is. Relief floods her face and grasps Mirko's hand tightly in a firm handshake. "You made it."

The Rabbit hero laughs and nods. "You think I'd miss out on this action? Absolutely not!" She then turns back to the villains as they begin to ascend the stairs after the females, taking down as many as she can as they continue to retreat up the stairs. Y/N uses her quirk to slow them down long enough for Mirko to attack but eventually stumbles as they reach the roof.

Villains begin to flood onto the roof and far below, red and blue lights can be seen from the cop cars and ambulances that are waiting to help whenever they can. Mirko continues to knock out villains as quickly as they make it up the stairs.

The flood starts to slow as Mirko begins to tire, breathing heavily as they come up. One villain is able to get past her using her quirk and attacks Y/N, who now has to rely on her combat skills. The villain chuckles to herself at how weak the hero looks in her worn out state, thinking it will be an easy fight.

The villains quirk is weaponization, meaning she can turn her hands into any weapon she wants, so long as she knows the description and function of said weapon. Y/N's eyes widen as her hands both turn into two longswords and the hero pulls two knives off her belt. She knows this won't do much to help her, but she knows that she isn't going to be getting any help from Mirko, as she is still trying to keep villains from entering onto the roof.

"So, hero, any last words?" the small villain in front of her asks. But the Pro Hero just chuckles as she speaks. "That is such an overused and stupid line, do you know how often I get asked that before I kick some villain ass?"

The villain growls loudly at her words, then charges with a battle cry, leaving Y/N almost no time to dodge the attack. She feels the edge of one of the swords graze her side, leaving a small but deep gash. She hisses in pain before taking a chance and lunging at her opponent.

That's when she knows she had taken the wrong chance.

-Y/N POV-

I feel one of the blades as it pierces my stomach but I don't really process it as I stab the villain through the eye, killing her instantly. My mind barely registers that no more villains are coming onto the roof and Hitoshi has mad it up here. I hear a feminine sounding scream as I look up from the villain and see Mirko in shock with a hand over her mouth. Hitoshi stands next to her as he takes in the sight before him.

A villain with a weaponization quirk, hands formed into longswords, and one of them piercing my stomach as my knife sticks out of her face.

Everything starts to move in slow motion as I feel the sword become brittle and break off from the villain's hand, making me loose the only thing that is holding me up.

I feel myself being caught before I hit the ground, and I see Hitoshi's face above mine. The blood rushing through my ears quiets a little and I can hear what he's saying.

"H-hey, Y/N, stay with me. We're gonna get you help, just stay awake." I can't help but smile at his beautiful features, ignoring the tears pooling in his eyes, making the purple more vibrant against the bloodshot whites of his eyes.

"N/N, please stay awake, remember we have our wedding coming up. You even have your dress and everything, and we have our cake picked out and we have the beautiful location set. We can go there once you're better and we can see the beautiful setting you so carefully picked out."

I just shake my head. "No, Toshi, we can't..." I whisper. "We both know what this means for me...."

"No, Y/N, don't talk like that! You will heal and you will get better and we will get married! Please, N/N, I can't lose you..." His voice quiets to a whisper as Endeavor and Hawks make it up the stairs, rescue teams not far behind them.

I chuckle and then almost immediately start coughing, blood beginning to dribble down my chin. His eyes widen he holds onto you tighter. "Just stay awake, Y/N, because if you fall asleep, you might never wake up and I won't get to make you my wife. So just stay awake, we will get married and have an amazing life together."

I just very weakly pull him into a soft kiss. "Maybe in another lifetime, Toshi..."

-Shinsou POV-

I feel her go still in my arms and hers fall next to her, her eyes still trained on my face, but now, no life shines in them. There's no laughter in her face, no twitch in her nose as she thinks of something funny or cute to say. Her face is slack void of any emotion, any feeling, any life.

My beautiful Y/N, gone, taken from me forever.

I will never get to see her walk down the aisle in her stunning white dress, drawing all the attention to her beauty.

I will never get to stand at the altar with her.

I will never get to vow my life to her, and her to mine.

I will never get to say I do to her.

I will never get to kiss her and make her mine forevermore.

I will never get to call her my wife.

I feel my chest heave with silent sobs as I feel her pulled away from me. My arms hug my midsection as she covered in a sheet, hiding her from my view. I hear Mirko and Hawks cries as they watch them take her away, take her back down to the street. Endeavor walks over to me and places a hand on my shoulder, trying to console me. That's when I black out.

~Timeskip 1 year~

I don't remember much from that night, but the news the following day was a complete coverage of our takedown of Nightmare. Praise for Endeavor, Hawks, Mirko, myself, and of course, Y/N. No one immediately knew of her death, so it wasn't until I was interviewed about the battle that it was found out. I had broken down, unable to speak about her without my chest tightening with the pain of her memory. The camera's were cut immediately until I could calm down. Lucky for editing, because once I was calmed down, they asked me again and this time, I was able to answer.

"Now tell me about that night. Do you know were Thermo-Meter went? It is said that no one has been able to contact her for a couple of days. Do you know anything about that?" The interviewer asked.

I took a deep breath before I spoke. "Thermo-Meter, or better known to me as Y/N, was killed that night."

"Were you two close in any way? Or were you only work acquaintances?"

"We were engaged to be married in the fall."

The interviewer went silent for a moment before simply saying, "I'm so sorry for your loss," before moving on to talk to Mirko about the battle.

I shake my head at the memory, walking down the sidewalk. It's been a whole year and I still haven't been able to move on from Y/N. I know she would be upset with me for holding on to her for so long, but I just couldn't let her go.

I stop in a small flower shop that I go to every other week, getting the same arrangement I always do. The owner smiles and shakes his head when I go to give him money for the flowers. "You're such a loyal customer, it's on me this week." I frown but thank him profusely before I leave the shop.

I continue walking, finally arriving at my destination after about a 30 minute walk. When I arrive, I see Hawks, or Keigo, as I've come to know him as. He and I began to get close after Y/N had passed, as we were the ones who knew her best. He smiles at me and waves.

I walk over to where he is standing and look down. There's her smiling face, in stone with her birthday and deathday engraved under it. The stone read, "Amazing hero, loved by all."

Her parents had chosen it, asking what I would like on it. All I wanted was her picture that I could see every time I visited her. I sit next to Keigo as I lay the flowers in front of the stone. He looks at me and smiles, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We sit there for only a moment before he stands to leave me alone.

"I'll see you in another lifetime, butterfly...."

*****

I wrote this just after my mom passed away so it’s kind of a reflection of how I was feeling.... sorry...

#shinsou hitoshi #x female reader #x fem!reader #pro hero #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #angst #sad

[oftenderweapons]

Mold Me New (3) — Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons Story

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Frog — for now)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: 18+ (for future smut and explicit thoughts)

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Terry has given very generic instructions to Frog about how to retrieve her birthday gift. A more then welcome surprise follows. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None. (Wow. I’m shocked.)

Once more let me thank potter supreme @joheunsaram​ (I’d be wandering in darkness and despair without you. Lob U)

Here is my complete masterlist and in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

“Hello?”

You felt deeply embarrassed venturing into the backyard of a stranger.

“Excuse me? Hello?”

The heavy sound of something slamming against the floor of a garage had you slightly worried. You were ready to run away when the door opened. The neighbourhood wasn’t familiar to you and Terry’s refusal to tell you anything about the specific address she had given you scared you even more.

You feared you’d end up at one of Terry’s friends with benefit’s house.

You changed your mind, however, when you recognised the man standing out of the door.

“Frog? Is that you?”

“Taehyung?” You said, recalling the name of the man. You had met him only a couple days before, spending a good time with his friends while your own had ditched you.

“Hello Frog!” He exclaimed, incredibly happy to see you. “Are you here for a four pm meeting?”

“All I know is that Terry told me to be here by four. She gave me the address but,” you laughed, shaking your head and touching your hair nervously. “She didn’t mention it was you. She didn’t say anything. She only said it was a surprise.”

Taehyung’s laugh exploded suddenly, deep and loud. “That explains many, many things.” He nodded to himself, waiting for you to get closer. “Welcome to my studio,” he said, letting the door open a bit wider.

The space inside was bright and airy, with a wall that resembled a glasshouse, while the others were made of brick and lined with shelves. In a corner you noticed a strange contraption, like an iron cauldron, and an unfamiliar machine close to a basin. There was also a large table all along the glass wall, like it was waiting for plants to be hosted, but none were found.

“With me you’ll learn the humble, raw art of modelling clay.”

You turned to him with a furrowed brow, completely confused. “Clay?”

“Yes. Clay.”

“You model clay?” You asked, giving him an amused look.

“I am an artist,” he stated clearly. “I also model clay but that’s not all I do.”                                                                        

“So that’s my gift? A clay lesson?”

“Ten clay lessons. I’ll make you an intermediate.” Taehyung reached a wooden cabinet, opening it and taking out a large block of clay, grabbing something from his apron and detaching a smaller part before putting the clay back in the cabinet. “But first, let me get you an apron.”

You felt your eyes blink in confusion. “You teach?”

“Art should answer anyone’s calls, in my opinion. I help people learn how to call.”

You were positively impressed. The quiet, if a bit Darcy-esque man, seemed relaxed and talkative in his natural habitat.

Taehyung reached a coat hook on the wall, giving a good look at you before choosing a garment suitable for your height. “This should do,” he said, offering it to you and letting you put it on.

You appreciated the independence he allowed you, allowing you to wear it yourself. You hung your tote on the now free hook and slipped your arms and head into the different loops before closing the tie around your waist in a cute ribbon.

“You'll want to fix your hair before your hands get messy,” Taehyung suggested, watching you carefully get it out of harm's way, since the last thing you wished for was dirt in your hair.

“You didn’t mention you teach art the other night.”

He smiled shyly. “The night you introduced yourself, I remembered I had gift lessons booked under your name. I wanted your birthday surprise to stay a surprise.”

You were entirely endeared at the thought. “That’s very sweet of you!” You exclaimed, watching him collect the piece of clay he had previously cut.

“It’s not a big deal,” he murmured, looking away as his cheeks blushed.

He was eager to watch you learn. He already felt like your hands could have so much potential. He had studied them all night after he met you, watching the sinewy fingers arch and straighten and hold and curve. “Okay, let’s start from a little bit of theory.”

He moved to the table by the window, “Would you mind grabbing a bowl with some water, there?” He pointed to a large utility sink in one of the corners, where you found a bowl and filled it halfway with water.

You made a careful work of walking to the table, placing down the bowl and sighing in relief once you realised you had caused no issues so far.

“Two questions. Have you ever used clay before?”

You snorted and shook your head. “Nope.”

“So you supposedly know nothing about it?”

“Exactly.”

He chuckled and bobbed his head. “That’s okay. All you need to know so far, is that clay is a mineral, and it can have different compositions which make it more or less difficult to model and to cook. I’ll have you use very generic clay, which is suitable for beginners, isn’t too picky about cooking and will look a bit plain, but is also pretty easy to shape. You’ll thank me later.”

You raised your eyebrows and smiled.

“It’s easy to work with, it cooks at low temperature and is also cheap, which will make it better if you ever choose to continue this hobby,” he explained. “It will take a fairly long time for you to master several techniques with this one, so no use spending money on fancy stuff. We’ll keep that for when you’re an upper intermediate. All cool?” He asked, checking in on you with his beautiful, dark eyes.

He had very pretty eyes, you noticed.

“Yes, got that.” You confirmed, startling when he slammed the clay against the table.

“Cool.” He replied with half a grin. “Let’s start from zero.”

Once more he extracted a tool from the pocket of his apron, showing it to you. “This is a wire. You’ll find one in your apron too.”

You rummaged in the pocket and found it. “This will help you with step one — Wait. Lemme start from very very zero.”

He walked back to the cabinet and dragged a block of clay out — the one he’d cut a piece from a few minutes ago. “This is called craft clay or potters’ clay. It’s ready-made and you can buy it in any diy shop. Some artists make their own mix, but let’s start with this since it’s specifically made for learners.”

“It looks very tough,” you commented, testing the small amount he’d cut before, prodding it with your finger.

“It just needs some love,” he explained, pouting sadly. “Clay is so misunderstood. It needs to be firm. But it’s pliable, as long as you treat it appropriately.”

You arched your eyebrows. “I just thought it was softer. Messier, somehow.”

“It is once you wedge it and moisturise it.” Taehyung acknowledged. “Clay contains platelets. Platelets make it solid, but also plastic as long as it’s not dry. Right now you have two enemies. Shape memory and air.”

Taehyung’s hands got on the piece instinctively. “Today I’ll only manage to explain wedging and centering. So be careful and pay attention. If you mess up wedging, your life will get ten times more impossible on the wheel. Let’s start.” He brought the main block back in the cabinet. “That one needs to stay fresh.”

Once at the table he settled beside you. “What’s wedging?” You asked, staring at your piece of clay.

“Wedging is your starting point. As you saw earlier, ready- made clay comes in blocks. Which means square. On the wheel, you’ll always start from a cute soft ball. Which means round.”

Taehyung’s hands massaged the clay for comfort. He felt somehow uneasy at the way he was going to interact with you. “Basically clay holds memory of the shape it was in. You want to erase it to make it more pliable. Like… When an introvert is in their comfort zone for too long and you need to get them back in society and you just… force them in several different social circumstances to warm them up, make them more versatile. More sociable.”

God, he felt ridiculous. He was using his inner turmoil to explain pottery.

He was going to defenestrate himself.

“Okay,” you laughed. “I got the introvert thing. I like the parallel.” You smiled and for a second you thought about all the years you’d been there, shaped like a block to fit inside someone’s life — or to fit them in yours.

You could use some wedging too.

“We usually wedge on plaster, or concrete or wood, because they get the extra water out of the clay. You want it to be a tiny bit humid. But not wet.” Taehyung spread his large hands over the small disk in front of him. “You want to make it more homogeneous. Uniform. For today let’s use the ram’s head method. It’s basically like kneading dough.”

His hair fell over his eyes as he bent down, leaning towards the table. “We have a small amount of clay, since you’re starting. You basically want it to become a thick block first.”

He bent the disk in two, turning it in a thicker, longer rectangle before placing his hands to the opposite sides and pressing, making the clay become more compact.

“Okay, try,” he invited you to do the same.

You mimicked his actions, focusing on the cold, solid feeling of the material under your fingertips.

“Use your palms. Don’t be afraid to get your whole hands on it. You’ll need all your strength.”

You nodded and followed his lead, the cold expanding to your palms, the feeling amplifying beautifully. It was somehow reinvigorating after the initial strangeness.

“Good. Now. Ram’s head.” He inhaled and regained his position. “These,” he said, wiggling his fingers, “and these,” he explained circling his hand around his shoulder. “That’s where you want to focus. All your strength resides there. You won’t feel it right now, but you will once you work with larger pieces.” He steadied himself and placed his palms on the sides of the piece. “Palms on the sides. Your wrists will do all the work. Your thumbs wrap around the top of the piece. The other fingers on the back of the piece. Focus on the wrists. You want to push the clay downwards first, then outwards, to the back of the piece. Okay. Position your hands.”

Taehyung stood straight up, allowing you to see his clay, on top of which he was previously bent over.

“I’m not…” You frowned and tried to feel the clay under your hands, trying to recognise the different sides.

“It’s okay. May I?” He asked, bringing his right hand close to yours.

You nodded, waiting for the contact.

It was chalky, somehow, almost dusty with the way the clay was already drying up, but it still held some cold dampness.

He corrected your fingers, staring at them and giving them a slight twist. “This way your wrists should reach just fine.”

He stood at your side, respecting your personal space even though his hand touched you. The smile on his face was the gentlest, most exciting thing you had felt in a while.

“Okay, mirror it with your left,” he told you as he stepped back, regaining his own space.

“This feels nice,” you admitted, giving the first twist of your wrist.

“Let’s see if you still think so after wedging for twenty minutes,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Twenty minutes!?” You said, already worried.

He giggled and shook his head, his curls brushing against his forehead, which you didn’t notice, because you were too busy focusing on the clay under your hands.

“Ten, usually. Twenty if you need very pliable clay. Like if you’re doing hand-building. But we can use something a bit rougher.” Taehyung helped you get out of the position your clay body was stuck in. “Help it with your fingers. Bring it back, yes,” he encouraged you once the position was right. “And now your wrists. Exactly. Look at you. You’re learning!”

He looked excited when you turned to look at him. He was literally shining with the meek sunlight coming from the window.

“I’m learning!” Your excitement mirrored his own.

“Okay, now, watch. This is why it’s called ram’s head.” Taehyung showed you the spiral on the sides, and the elongated triangle on the front.

“That looks fancy!” You said, feeling curious about the shape.

“Keep going and yours will be just like this!” He spurred you on, making you work harder and faster, which eventually led you to the ruthless burning that possessed your arms afterwards.

With his elbow, Taehyung pointed at your shoulder blade. “Just push your body weight into the clay. The whole motion should mimic a wave,” he showed you how. “If your hands are positioned right, you only need to lean in to wedge— Just. Like. That! Good job, Frog!”

You smiled and went on, paying attention to his corrections, and his gentle advice, enjoying the gentleness with which his pinkie finger pointed to a specific direction, or a finger that was in the wrong position, realigning it.

“Nice! Now, tuck the corners in in a cute fluffy ball. See how soft and warm and round it feels now?”

You nodded enthusiastically. There was something in menial tasks that always made you happy with yourself. Seeing the results of your efforts and hard work always made you feel accomplished, productive.

And it’s been a while since you felt that rush, except for seeing an organised shelf in your shop, with books neatly aligned and rated.

“Okay. I’ll show you how to work the wheel. We got little time left, so maybe I can show you the groundwork and then you can toy around with the body I centred, so you can get familiar with the feeling.”

You agreed.

Taehyung gave a few more twists to your clay body and brought it to the wheel. “Okay. Here we go. Forget Ghost, this thing is a lot more difficult than that. And forget all that water. Too messy. Bowl?” He asked.

Your forehead creased as he pointed to a small stand with a basin. It looked like a short version of a vintage stand for those porcelain bowls used in bedrooms.

You moved it closer to him.

“Thank you,” he smiled and caught the clay body, throwing it on the middle of the turning plate, currently still as he hadn’t yet activated the wheel.

“You can aim for the centre. There’s an indentation to show it. See,” he pointed to the plate. “There are all these circles to show you if you’re actually following the shape.”

He dipped a finger in the bowl, letting the extra water drip down, until it was just slightly damp. “You run around the base to seal it. That way you don’t need to slam it down and you don’t risk watching it unstick and mess around with you.”

“Okay. Great!”

“Now. Position is very important. With your legs you hold the holster and the wheel. Don’t worry about getting too close. Check three things. Knees around the wheel. Elbows braced on your thighs — that will stabilise you. And your torso leans forward. Not angled but perpendicular to the wheel. You need to be right on top of it, so your weight sinks down. Not across.” He showed you the correct position, his lean frame protecting the ball of clay like a hen defends her chicks.

Watching him become so tactile and connected with the material under his hands was endearing, but also fascinating, especially with the way his hands wrapped around the body.

“Okay, let me centre it for you, then you can try. It’s a procedure that can go back and forth, so I’ll have you doing this over and over for a few times. It will help you familiarise with it.”

“Thank you,” you replied, watching his fingers sink in the water. “Now, trick. You wet your hands. Let them drip down just a little, so you don’t drench your piece. If the piece is drenched, the platelets will loosen and the walls of your cup, bowl, vase, whatever will collapse. And we don’t want that, right?”

The way his head snapped towards you with an inquisitive look made you shake your head and reply readily, “nope.”

“Exactly. So, we sink our hands in, rest, and— one, two three, drip and—” he moved his hands over the clay body, letting a few tens of droplets fall onto the material. “Nice and wet. Not sodden, of course. We don’t want that, remember?”

You blinked and nodded as his hands started moving.

Taehyung grinned as he noticed your captivated gaze. You were learning. You were curious, interested, completely amazed. It was the most satisfying look he had ever seen. “This is your treasure now. You curl yourself around it and protect it. Like a dragon hoards its gold.”

He leaned down into the piece, his foot looking for the pedal and pressing it down very, very delicately.

“Your pinkies and ring fingers are doing all the work right now. They seal around the base, reinforcing the sealing we did before. Once you gave enough spins around the base — oh, feel the plate with the side of your pinkie and palm!” He reminded himself, showing you the part of his hand and securing it around the wheel once more. He corrected his position. “You will feel the clay push you up. That’s when your palms close in. You want to make sure it goes up.”

The wheel suddenly stopped and Taehyung showed you the result. “See. Cute mushroom shape. A two inch stem, and then the round hat.”

You bent down to check and studied the way the table started spinning slowly again, showing you the consistent shape.

“More water. Same technique.” He repeated the dip-drip process. “Now. Pinkies stay in. Lots of pressure. And your palms are going to push the hat of the mushroom up. You want it to turn into a cone. So once the hat disappears, you’re gonna keep your hands steady, with a lot of pressure, and drag them up, slowly. And bend them inwards slightly, into a tip.” He followed the process with his hands, his fingers steady and his veins thicker at the effort and the pressure. The way his elbows braced against his hands brought even more blood to the back of his palms.

Still, you didn’t let that cloud your focus. You stared at the process, especially once he stopped the wheel and took his hands off.

“Now we’re bringing it downwards with the thumbs. We’re helping it regain the center. This,” he prodded the ball of his thumb, the soft part where the finger could sink, “is the part that gains the centre. You push it down, while your fingers lean over. Like you’re projecting energy from your palms.” He finished showing the procedure, showing how the ball of clay was a perfectly round dome, placed in the exact middle of the wheel.

“Now you take the lead!” He turned to you with a grin.

With a shy blush you watched him stand up and gesture to the seat elegantly.

You settled down and fixed your position around the wheel, following the instructions he had given you previously.

“That’s nice. Closer.” He corrected you helping your seat closer to the holster of the wheel.

“Now we’re ready to go. Wet your hands—” he directed you, helping you count the dip and drip. “Steady.”

You placed your pinkies tightly around the base, feeling the dome a bit too large for your hands. That’s because it was shaped for his large hands.

“Yes. Steady,” he encouraged you. “Go.”

The taglist is open!

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

#taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung fanfiction #thetruthuntoldnet #thebtswritersclub #Taehyung strangers to lovers

[cuddlepilefics]

One day

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jisung

Caregivers: Hyung-line

 No one’s POV.:

The September twins, that was what Jisung and Felix always were referred to. Born only one day apart, they were almost the same age, although Jisung always made sure to mention that he was older. Just like siblings would. In the beginning, people were always treating them the same but after a while of living together, the dynamics within Stray Kids changed. With his position in 3racha, Jisung was in a quite responsible position, helping the members during recordings and working hard alongside his hyungs. The members started to come to him for help when they were stuck with their lyrics or needed advice on how to best present their lines. To be honest, the rapper was happy and also a bit proud of that, his hyungs thinking so highly of him. On the flipside of the coin, that also meant the expectations towards him rose. He was always expected to be responsible. Sure, he was part of the maknae-line, but the oldest out of the four. Being one of the loudest and most energetic members, the hyung-line was often disappointed in Jisung, when he wasn’t responsible like they wanted him to be but was instead causing trouble. For Felix it was different, when he accidentally caused trouble, they helped him to fix it, assuring it was no big deal. What was different between the two of them? One day.

Jisung always used to brush it off, he himself loved to baby his younger twin, but at some point it did start to bother him a little. The hyungs were always paying attention to Felix, praising him for everything he did. They had gotten so used to Jisung doing well with most of the things he did, that it didn’t seem worth any praise anymore. What they didn’t realize was that Jisung himself didn’t see how good he was doing. He was always critical and too hard on himself, needing their reassurances at least as much as Felix did. The only times, Jisung really got their attention, was when he messed something up or caused trouble. Sadly, these were also the times he needed their reassurance the most but what he got was only an expression of disappointment. For Felix it would be ‘Don’t worry, sweetie.  Hyungs will take care of it. We can fix it just be more careful next time.’ For Jisung it would be ‘Are you serious? Come on, Jisung, I thought better of you.’

Currently, they were in a similar situation. The September twins had attempted to cook dinner for their group because Chan was stuck in the studio late and they wanted to take some of the stress of his shoulders. It didn’t go too well though and the kitchen ended up being a mess. Minho was the first to walk into the kitchen to see when the food would be ready. His heart dropped when he saw the situation the two had gotten themselves into. After fending off the looming catastrophe and making sure there wouldn’t be a fire or anyone getting hurt, the second oldest demanded an explanation. His pissed off tone attracted Changbin and Hyunjin’s attention, who decided to check on them, while Seungmin and Jeongin continued to play karaoke. There eyes went wide when they glanced around the room, noticing the two boys in the middle of the chaos with their heads down. “Okay, what happened here?”, Changbin frowned. Minho added: “I already asked and I’m still waiting for an explanation.” The older three stood with their arms crossed. Chan was already stressed and now he should come back to the dorm looking like this. Jisung was frozen in his spot, so it was Felix who spoke up first.

The Aussie had explained how at some point everything needed to be stirred at the same time and that they hadn’t been fooling around but instead had ran from pot to pot to not let anything burn. Not paying attention to where they were going, they had tripped each other and ended up the way Minho found them. Minho sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He could tell the younger was sincere but their actions had been irresponsible and dangerous, so the dancer frowned: “You know, all of us would have been here. You could have just called and we would’ve helped you out. I’m glad neither of you got hurt but you two better clean this up before Chan gets home.” Looking at Jisung, he added: “I know neither of you meant for this to happen but I really thought you were more responsible.” The rapper bit his lip, not raising his head and still staring at the tiled floor. “Jisung, you’re older one. Why are you the one, causing the most troubles to your hyungs?”, Changbin asked disappointed. Hyunjin didn’t dare to speak up, he knew it would be worse if he had tried to cook something but at least he was responsible enough to not enter the kitchen.

Jisung felt his heart break. His hyungs’ words had hit him hard, harder than he wanted to admit but he pulled himself together and looked up at the others. “You really think that, don’t you? I’m not causing anymore trouble than Felix, yet you never get mad at him. Apparently, I am the one who can never get anything right. The only times you notice me is when you want me to do something, I don’t do well enough or don’t fulfil your expectations. Believe it or not, I try to be responsible. Yes, I make mistakes sometimes but do you really think I mean to? I’m already feeling bad when something goes wrong but instead of helping me you make me feel worse. You’re never like this with Felix. What is so different between us? I get that he’s cute but seriously. You’re not being fair. Want me to tell you the difference between Felix and me? One day. One single day”, the rapper spat, close to tears. He had been holding this in for a long time, the weight on his chest only getting heavier, so it felt relieving to at least have said it out loud. Throwing his apron onto the floor he announced: “I’m going for a walk and hopefully not come back.”

Without anyone holding him back, Jisung left the dorm. It was starting to get dark but he didn’t care, he needed some fresh air to clear his head. Luckily, his earphones were still dangling around his neck and his phone was in his pocket. There wasn’t much battery left but he’d be able to listen to some music for some time. Music, that’s what always calmed him down. Shoving the earbuds into his ears, he turned up the volume and walked away. He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was that he needed space. Jisung had made it quite far from where they left and without really paying attention, he had ended up in a different part of the town. His phone had died a few minutes ago, so he didn’t know how late it was. Probably pretty late, it would have been completely dark, if it wasn’t for the city lights to illuminate his way. He also couldn’t just open a map to look for the shortest way home. Sure, he had said some harsh things but he intended to go back as soon as he had cooled down a bit. And cooled down he had. The temperatures had dropped and the shirt which he had walked out in did little to keep him warm. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the streets, so he decided to just backtrack his steps and go home. He’d take a hot shower to warm up and continue to avoid his hyungs. Jisung had turned a few blocks on his way back and thought he heard steps behind him but assuming it was just his mind making things up, he continued. Until he heard something else. “Hello there, beautiful.”

Chan had gotten back to the dorm about twenty minutes ago. When he got back, the kitchen looked in peek condition and there was takeout on the table for dinner. They waited, however there still was no sign of Jisung. It had been a while since he had left and the members had done some thinking. Felix himself had admitted to being babied most of the time, while Jisung was held to entirely different standards. When Chan joined them, he could tell something was off. His two oldest donsaengs looked incredibly guilty, while Hyunjin and Felix seemed worried. Especially Felix had grown restless. Jisung’s last sentence sent shivers down his spine and he could only pray his twin didn’t mean it. After almost half an hour of uncomfortable silence, Chan managed to get some words out of Minho and Changbin. They recounted the events of the evening and even the leader had to admit that he was pretty tough on his fellow 3racha member. They waited a little longer, hoping the rapper would return soon but he never came. Seugmin and Jeongin had heard the olders talk and were cuddled together in Seungin’s bed, worried about their friend. It was close to midnight and the hyungs had sent them to bed to not scare them further while they debated on what to do. In the end it was Felix pressing them to go out and look around the neighborhood.

While Chan had left with Hyunjin to look around the closer neighborhood and places they knew Jisung liked to go to, the leader had given Minho and Changbin clear instructions to stay at the dorm in case the rapper came back and to keep an eye on the younger members. He hoped Seungmin and Jeongin were sleeping but was doubting it. Felix for sure wasn’t sleeping, he was anxiously pacing the living room because Chan hadn’t wanted him to leave the dorm at this time of night, so part of Minho’s and Changbin’s task was also to ensure the Aussie wouldn’t sneak out to go search his twin by himself. While Felix paced the room, Minho and Changbin sat motionlessly on the couch, facing the door. They were right next to each other but alone in their thoughts and guilt. The more they thought the more occasions did they remember when they had clearly treated the two oldest maknae-liners differently. The click of the door made their heads snap up and to their relief, it was Jisung standing in the doorway.

The relief didn’t last for long though, when they noticed the condition the rapper was in. His clothes were torn up, stained weirdly in some places. One of his eyes was black and swollen and his face was smeared with blood, oozing from a gash in his brow and a cut to his lip. The skinny boy was panting heavily, eyes wide and terrified. His body shook with both, cold and fear. Minho was the first to spring into action, he run up to Jisung and pulled him into a hug, loosening his grip a bit when the younger gasped in pain but never letting go. Safe in the arms of his hyung, Jisung broke down sobbing. He clung to the older like his life depended on it. Changbin had gotten closer too, studying his dongsaeng and trying to estimate the extent of his injuries. “I-I take back w-what I sa-said. ‘m g-glad to be -be h-home”, Jisung choked out, struggling to get a full breath in. Minho swayed gently from side to side with the boy still in his arms, whispering reassurances and letting him cry into his chest. By now, they were both covered in blood but the dancer didn’t mind as long as he had his squirrel back. “Come on, let’s patch you up. Mind telling us what happened?”, Changbin hummed. Jisung shook his head, he really didn’t feel like talking at the moment and his legs were becoming shakier by the minute. He was still cold and with the adrenaline ebbing off, he also started to really feel the pain. Minho carefully picked him up, trying not to cause any more damage and instructing Felix to call Chan and tell them they didn’t need to continue their search.

Changbin already had the first aid kit ready when Minho carried Jisung to the bathroom. Given the younger wasn’t going to let go of him anytime soon, Minho sat down on the closed toilet lid, keeping Jisung in his lap while trying to calm him down as best as he could. Changbin started by cleaning away the blood with a damp, warm washcloth. Minho had gone to humming a soft tune, tensing every time Jisung flinched in pain. When his face was taken care of, Changbin helped Jisung out of his shirt, cringing at the amount of bruises covering the younger’s chest and arms. Keeping his touch light, Changbin spread some ointment on the darkest once and got up when he saw Jisung shiver harshly. He was confident he had taken care of the worst injuries, so he went to grab some fresh clothes for both, Jisung and Minho. If those torn once were really the only clothes Jisung had on when he was out, he could also be hypothermic because the temperature drops fast in the evening. He picked out one of his own sweatpants and a large hoodie from Minho, an outfit the younger would most likely drown in.

When he returned to the bathroom, Jisung had calmed down a bit but sitting there shirtless, Changbin could hear his teeth chatter. Cooing at his dongsaeng, Changbin helped Jisung put on the hoodie, while Minho smiled when he recognized it. Removing the skinny jeans, proved to be a struggle because Jisung’s knees had gotten badly scraped and pulling the rough fabric over the wound wasn’t the most pleasant feeling. When the pants were finally off, Changbin cleaned the dirt out of the wounds and covered the tender areas with a loose bandage, just so the fabric of the sweatpants wouldn’t rub over it. That could have been avoided had he just gotten Jisung shorts but they wouldn’t have helped him warm up. He also cleaned and wrapped Jisung’s knuckles, which had gotten just as badly scraped. Changbin could only assume that the younger had been attacked, nobody gets hurt like this by tripping himself, not even a clumsy Jisung. When the younger was all patched up and in fresh clothes, Changbin took him from Minho, so the dancer could get changed to, and carried him to the couch where Felix was waiting for them.

The Aussie had gathered a bunch of blankets, including Jisung’s favorite and started to pile them onto his shivering twin. When Changbin returned from the kitchen with an icepack in his hand, all he could see was the younger’s messy hair peaking out from a mountain of blankets. He sat down next to the two on the couch and instructed Jisung to hold the icepack against his black eye to hopefully reduce the swelling a bit. Jisung refused, complaining that he was cold enough as he was, so Changbin tucked the blankets tighter, trapping both of Jisung’s arms underneath. “Here, you got about a dozen blankets, cuddles from your right and a koala on your left, you’ll feel warm soon”, Changbin smiled and hugged the blanket bundle from the side, lightly hovering the icepack over Jisung’s eye and cheek.

Minho walked into the living room at the same time as Chan and Hyunjin. In a few words, he summed up what had happened at the dorm before they got back and let Chan check on Jisung for himself, while Minho whispered to Felix to go to bed because it was really late and the four of them had to make it up to the rapper. Felix nodded, he really wanted to cuddle and comfort his friend right now but he knew the hyungs would be drowning Jisung with affection now to make up for the times they didn’t, so he went to bed assured the other would be well taken care of.

Minho and Changbin had already apologized so they cuddled Jisung from both sides while Chan started his speech. “I wasn’t there earlier when you spoke up about it but I’m also guilty of treating you a lot older than Felix. It’s just that you’re a part of 3racha and work so hard, plus you’re so good with everything you do, you barely need any help but are instead helping others”, the leader started. Hyunjin walked in with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, literally the only thing he knew how to cook, and added: “You always help me with my rap but barely need me with your dancing. It’s hard to see how young you really are when you are doing all these things and we’re sorry for neglecting you the way we did. I hope you forgive us and we will do our best not to be this ignorant in the future.” Jisung gave a tired smile and rasped: “Of course I forgive you, you’re my hyungs and I love you. But I’m really cold and craving more cuddles right now.” They smiled and joined their friends on the couch. The cocoa already did a good job warming Jisung up but when he fell asleep against Chan’s chest with Changbin petting his hair, his legs on Minho’s lap where he gently rubbed them for warmth, knowing exactly where not to touch to not hurt Jisung, and Hyunjin pressed against both Jisung and Chan, the rapper had never felt warmer or more protected.

#stray kids #skz #whump #sick #sickfic #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #comfort #han jisung #lee minho #lee felix #bang chan #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin

[angelicsaggie]

Incompatible elements

Opposites are actually a good thing?

The 4 classical elements are: Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. Each of these elements are special and hold unique characteristics. Life is about adding, subtracting, and balancing which makes every element important and useful. Life is balance meaning that your opposing element is just as important as your dominant element. Opposites are important and helps us maintain this planet. Check to see if you are lacking in your own or opposing element.

—

Fire & Water

Fire

Fire has given us the ability to cook food, forge tools, provide warmth, purify water, and give us light. The positive fire traits are passion, confidence, vitality, inspiration, creativity, and courage. The negative fire traits are anger, insensitivity, impulsiveness, aggression, and moodiness. If you are a fire element then you should not be afraid to embrace your water qualities because it will be beneficial in many ways. When fire is hot and huge, water cools it down by helping the fire element re-evaluate its choices, reconsider decisions, humble its spirit, prevent disasters, relax, and find compassion.

Water

Water helps us stay alive and keeps the world thriving. Water also detoxifies our systems, regulates our body temperature, prevents dehydration, moves oxygen to the brain, and carries nutrients to the cells in our bodies. The positive water traits are healing, intuition, peace, trust, tranquility, and empathy. The negative water traits are high sensitivity, deceptiveness, self-pitying, and insecurity. Fire is not all about destruction, in fact when water becomes stressed and creates uneasy ripples fire can help water become more assertive, passionate about accomplishing their dreams, courageous, promote happiness, and help water learn how to be adventurous and expressive.

Earth & Air

Earth

Earth is our home, even though we are technically in space. Humans and outer space do not work well together at least during this time period. In reality, outer space worsens our eyesight and changes our DNA. Since life is unpredictable, we should embrace this experience. Earth understands its duty and has no problem fulfilling the things its destiny and the Earth element works in a similar fashion. The positive Earth traits are logic, grounding, ambitious, disciplined, detailed oriented and hard working. The negative Earth traits are cold, stubborn, pessimistic, arrogant, overly independent, and materialistic. Due to earth knowing its duty and strictly performing it, it can sometimes lose track of the time and other important details. The air element helps earth loosen up because there is more to life than materials that will not even travel with us when it is our time to pass on. The air element also helps earth communicate better with people, be less harsh, be more in the present and not lost in materials, expand the walls of their mind to become more creative, and have fun.

Air

Air is quite an interesting element because it rules originality, so air is present but not physically but it is here physically but it is not…? Pretty much what I am trying to say is that we have never seen air before but we acknowledge its existence. How interesting yet different. The positive Air traits are analytical, creative, original, communicative, easy going, and imaginative. The negative Air traits are detached, dishonest, blocked communication, absent minded, and flaky. Air can be quite the chatter box and party host but Earth wants air to understand that recharging is necessary by connecting with nature, grounding yourself, being honest and straight to the point, and becoming more connected with nature and less with technology.

#fire element #elements #earth element #air element #water element #water energy #fire energy #earth energy #earth signs #fire signs #water signs #air signs #astrology side of tumblr #astrology shitposting #astrology houses #astrology stuff #zodiac shit #zodiac squad #zodiac side of tumblr #zodiac series #zodiac stuff #zodiac stereotypes #spiritualgrowth #spiritual guide #black spirituality #spiritual quotes #black woman writer #locs

[invisibleinorange]

A Different Ending |  7/?

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings:  Only be forewarned that this is an AU from the Adrift saga but Colin actually died in this one, so if he’s mentioned he’s actually gone. Relationships: Benedict Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington (past feelings),  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics,  Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Hastings Characters:  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Penadict (do we have a ship name yet?)

Summary:  There were some requests for an alternate/Parallel word to "Bridgerton's Adrift" where Benedict and Penelope actually did get married. So this is the result of that peer pressure.

Benedict was grateful to have found reasonable contractors who knew the urgency to have his and Penelope’s new home finished.  While they’d managed to make the most of his bachelor home, he wanted to provide more for her.  That was why he spent the majority of his days in Kensington, watching the progress and ensuring that everything was falling into place.

Despite the fact he didn’t want to be without his wife for any extended period of time, his mother had practically begged that Penelope be allowed to join the family at Aubrey Hall.  The plan was to seal the deal on Anthony’s match to Edwina Sheffield.  Benedict had his doubts that it would happen if only because Penelope seemed fairly certain that Anthony was better suited to Kate. He knew better than to bet against his wife.

It made sense for Penelope to help chaperone at Aubrey Hall. Her presence allowed her to stay abreast on the happenings of the parties and he could make sure their home was completed before the worst of the rainy seasons arrived.  It was only a matter of a week but it felt like a century without her.

He’d been fully prepared to show her how much he missed her upon her return.  He’d planned to have her favorite meal ready for her when she got home. They’d be able to sit together and she could tell him about everything he’d missed while they ate.

He knew that Anthony would escort her home but he was not quite prepared for her to him to practically be keeping her up right.  He’d known Penelope most of her life and while he hadn’t been around her while she was ill, he instinctively knew that her coloring was wrong.

“Pen,” he murmured moving to collect her from his brother. Concern creased her features as he moved her inside and to a small sitting room, so he could sit her down.

“I’m okay. Just a little carriage sick,” she said, protest clear in her voice though she wasn’t quite in a carriage anymore and she looked as if she was struggling to not retch. “I don’t need all this fuss.”

Benedict gave his older brother a look, as if waiting to verify the veracity of that statement.  If she’d been fine before departing Aubrey Hall he might could pass it off as carriage sickness. He’d been in many carriages with her at this point and not once had she been ill though.

“That’s a lie,” Anthony confirmed. “She’s been sickly since the last dinner party. She gave us all a bit of a laugh though.  She apparently tried to excuse herself from that miserable Cressida Cowper and she wouldn’t stop talking.”

“You didn’t?”  Benedict said trying not to laugh at the thought of Cressida covered in vomitus.  He was actually concerned for his wife but even he wasn’t foolish enough to note see the humor in that.

Penelope nodded though when she attempted to open her mouth, her eyes widened and she covered mouth. She was to her feet trying to run and find somewhere to properly retch.  Benedict’s eyes followed with concern. He really was going to have to go take care of her.

“Trying to upstage my engagement with a baby?” Anthony asked raising an eyebrow.

The two parts hit Benedict with equal force.  Anthony was engaged and he was going to have a baby?  They’d both seen their mother pregnant so many times that it was almost foolish that it didn’t hit him immediately. In a matter of seconds, his face flickered from confusion to excitement to absolute elation.

“Does she know?” he found himself asking.

“About my engagement to Kate? Of course. They’re strangely fond of each other. I daresay Kate might like Penelope more than she likes me,” Anthony said.

Kate. Penelope had been right about that one.

He shook his head though. That wasn’t what he was inquiring about.

“As happy as I am that you’ve selected a wife. I meant about the baby. Does Penelope think she’s with child?” he asked again.

“No. She seems to think she’s had a bad run of food poisoning and travel sickness,” Anthony said with a laugh. “Should I have a physician stop drop by tomorrow?”

“No – yes,” Benedict said after a long moment.  “Does anyone else share in your suspicion?”

“Mother,” Anthony said after a moment. “She didn’t verbalize it to me but I did see her and Mrs. Featherington chatting rather suspiciously in recent days. They’ve been peddling a ‘digestion’ tonic toward her for days.”

“Well thank you for returning her safely home,” he said. “I should probably go take care of her but please forward my congratulations to Kate.  We’ll have to have you both over for dinner while you plan your wedding.”

Anthony nodded before taking his leave.

--

Benedict took the steps to the wash room two at a time.  They’d only ever vaguely discussed children in the sense that they knew that they wanted children to be part of their life and not just because it was what society dictated that children should be a product of marriages.

He hadn’t really given much thought to when it would happen. He’d been so busy focusing on the construction of their home and finding his stride with her that he hadn’t imagined it happening so soon. He was honestly thrilled at the prospect of being a father.

“Everything okay?” he asked gently from the doorway when he found her, bent over though no longer retching. The smell let him know that she definitely had been. She was breathing fairly heavily from the effort.  He crossed the space to lean sit in the floor next to her and rub her back.

“You shouldn’t see me like this,” she told him, embarrassed by the whole thing. Penelope felt dirty. She honestly hadn’t planned to be ill upon her return to him.  God how she’d missed him while at Aubrey Hall though.  Her bed felt empty without him.  Her days were boring without the conversations or the company.

“Sorry but you’re stuck with me,” he told her stubbornly. It had been quite a few years since his mother’s last pregnancy and he admittedly tried to block out those memories. It was painful to look back and think of Hyacinth growing in his mother’s belly and the way his father had absolutely doted over her until his death.  He didn’t care if other men chose to be absent. He fully intended to dote over Penelope. “I’ve seen worse. If I had known you were ill, I would have come to you.”

She offered a weak smile as she managed to sit up.

“I’m home now,” she told him quietly. “You’re not going to be mad if I just want to bath and sleep, will you?”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“No, I’ll even prepare a hot bath for you,” he told her.

“You really don’t have to,” she told protested. “I can do it.”

“No. Go grab yourself a cup of tea and a biscuit from the kitchen if you can stomach it and I’ll come get you when it’s ready.”

He didn’t tend to keep staff here full-time. It wasn’t like in the family home.  He did have people who came and went during the day to ensure cleaning and cooking was done. He had little complaint of handling basic things like starting fires or preparing water on his own.

He stood, rolling up his sleeves before setting into motion, helping her to her feet first before he set off on his task.  It wasn’t quick a quick task but he did manage to heat up water over a fire and fill the movable tub in the washroom until it was at a satisfactory temperature.

He was pleased to see a little color back in her when she came by up to try and help him.  He’d been about to go grab her though so there was little left to be done aside from enjoy.

“I’m spoiled,” she told him, curling into him slightly for a moment in gratitude. “I saw the dinner you had prepared. I’m honestly so sorry for being sickly. Tomorrow when I’m better, I’m going to make it up to you.”

He shook his head.

“You don’t have anything to make up to me,” he insisted. He debated telling her of his suspicion but he also didn’t want to get ahead of himself.  If it turned out she was just ill and not carrying his child, he would feel foolish for suggesting it. He turned his head enough so he could lean down and kiss her appreciatively. “I’ll leave you to your bath, Mrs. Bridgerton.  Please do call if you need any further assistance. I’m pretty good with a wash cloth.”

“Don’t go,” she told him when he started to pull and walk away. Her hand reached out to grab his arm in an attempt to stop him. It worked quite effectively.  “I want to hear about everything I’ve missed in London while I was away.”

Benedict smiled, helping her out of her clothing and into the tub. He couldn’t help but envisioned how her form might change if she was carrying his child. He pushed the thought out of his head though so he could comply with her request. He had a lot to tell her and even more he wanted to hear from her.

He loved his wife.

#benedict bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton

[narnie3313]

Let Me Burn-Chapter 3

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Eventual Smut

Warnings: Language, Violence, Explicit,etc….

Summary: The moment you saw those piercing eyes in the corner of the club, you knew you were hooked. There was never a question about it…You knew this man would burn you, yet you embraced the flames.

Pairing: Dabi x reader

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Chapter 3

Grabbing your wrist and pulling you from the chair, he leads you into the large kitchen.  

“What do you want to eat?” He asks, standing you on the other side of the kitchen island as he walked around to the stove and began pulling pots out of the cupboard beside him.

“Um…I don’t know? I eat kind of everything but I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat. I didn’t see you eat at the club and that was over 6 hours ago now so I’m sure you’re hungry but just got distracted by the ……events…of tonight.”

6 hours? Shit, what time is it? You turn around to look out the floor to ceiling windows lining the apartment. The faintest break of light on the horizon signalling that he was indeed right and it was dawn. In under 12 hours your whole world had been flipped…but…had it really? He said you could go home, back to your normal day to day. But you didn’t really want that did you? You liked the excitement, the fear of the unknown. It was like a drug. You knew you should turn around, say thank you and bye to the man behind you, but you just….couldn’t. What would going back do? You’d continue your life of work, eat, sleep, drink and repeat while knowing that there was a whole other world around you that could offer you excitement. Could you pretend not to know about it? Could you pretend like this guy wasn’t going to be in your mind constantly? You barely knew anything about him but you couldn’t walk away from him. Why? What was it about him?  

“Did your mother teach you to cook?” You ask, turning back to lean on the bench, watching Dabi expertly flipping vegetables in a wok.

“No. My mother wasn’t really that kind of person. She tried to be but my father kind of broke her.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You notice that his expression doesn’t falter at all except a slight twitch of…anger?...when he mentions his father.

“Why? Were you around influencing those situations?”

“Well no but I’m sure that those kinds of situations aren’t easy on kids.”

“They weren’t but I survived. I came out the other side of my father with a new purpose. A new outlook. One that not a lot of people share. That’s why I joined the group I did. A lot of them share the same views.”

“And what view is that?” You ask curiously.

“That, dollface, is a question for another day.” He says turning around and emptying the wok into 2 bowls. He slides one and a pair of chopsticks to you and you thank him, taking a seat and beginning to eat. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a personal assistant. Nothing exciting but it pays the bills.”

“Who to?”

“Hmm?” You hum questioningly, pushing the food around with the chopsticks.

“Who’s personal assistant are you?” He asks, placing food between his bi-coloured lips.

“Yori Kondo. He’s the CEO of Kondo electronics. I’m the senior PA but I also have a relief PA who does the job for me when I take time off or have my days off, like tomorrow. Well,” gesturing to the dawn light streaming through the windows, “I guess today.”

“So you don’t work today?”

“No. I have Saturday and Tuesdays off most weeks unless someone is sick and needs me.”

“Sounds like a good job.” He says as he finishes his food. Turning his head, he cocks a brow at you, noticing you’ve barely eaten. “You really should eat.”

“Oh…yeah.” You say and start eating and resume talking between mouthfuls. “It’s not a bad job. The boss does have a bit of a temper but I guess that’s normal in a high stress position.”

Dabi washes his bowl and puts his hand out to collect yours when he notices you’re finished.

“Ok. So, what now?” You ask nervously.

“Well I don’t know about you but I’m tired so I plan on going to sleep. You know where the tv is and the kitchen and bathroom. Feel free to explore…or leave. It’s up to you really.” He speaks as he moves from across the counter to walk behind you, stopping and placing an absurdly warm hand on your hip. He leans down and kisses your neck and you can’t stop the moan that leaves your lips and you close your eyes as a reflex as his lips graze your skin up to your earlobe and feel his tongue flick at your ear. “Or you could come to bed with me, princess.”

Oh the things you wanted this man to do to you. The shivers that were sent through your body at the nickname that just rolled off his tongue and the heat of his breath joined by the cold of his piercings. This guy will be the death of me for sure.  

Turning around and sliding off the chair with your hand on his chest, you lean up and kiss his neck. Two can play this game. “As tempting as that is, the answer is no.” You say and begin walking to the lounge room to turn on the tv. You don’t dare turn around to see the look on his face as you sit down on the couch and flick the tv on. You hear his slow steps as he saunters off into the bedroom pushing the door closed. Sighhh. It’s been so long and he’s so damn alluring….Giving yourself a pat on the back for your restraint, you flick through channels until you land on a news outlet reporting on the club.  

“Reports say that at around 5am this morning, a passerby noticed the charred insides of this prestigious nightclub through the destroyed door. No one knows exactly what happened but it seems that the fire that was inside burned at temperatures in excess of 1500 degrees Celsius. It is presumed to be the work of a notorious villain gang, the name of which is still unknown but fits the M.O. More information to come.”

You switch the tv off and sit there hugging your knees to your chest. Why can’t you bring yourself to go? You know you should. He’s dangerous. He’s almost definitely killed people. There’s no way he hasn’t if he’s in a villain gang. He didn’t even know you and yet he excluded you from the attack. No matter what he says, he could be crazy. He could be keeping you as a plaything. He could be keeping you to hostage you or torture you. None of this makes sense. Why was he so magnetic to you? It was like something had changed your perception of him, but how? Why? That’s not his quirk so it couldn’t have been him. But why would he even go to lengths like that for someone he didn’t know at all? Was he feeling the same thing? Sure he flirted with you and given the chance, you’re positive he would plow you into the nearest surface, but was he feeling the same pull to you as you are to him? Or did he just want to keep you around to dick you down?  

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts you stand and walk to the kitchen. Searching every cupboard until you find a glass, you fill it with water and drink. Thinking about this is hurting my head. You rinse the glass and place it on the white bench top and walk towards the window facing the bright city. You can spot a few signs that you recognize meaning you would be able to find your way to them and then find your way home since you’re sure since this part of town is so empty, there’s a slim to none chance there’s any taxis around. Even if you cant bring yourself to leave him, you need some stuff from your apartment…like your own clothes. You grab your bag and head towards the door. I’ll be back before he even wakes up. I’m sure he won’t mind me leaving the door unlocked so I can get back in. You click the ground floor button as you enter the elevator and wait out the dings of every other floor before coming to a stop as the doors open. You walk out the same side door you’d come in and head out to the street. Turning around to take note of the address, what the building looked like and how to get back to here, you begin walking in the direction of the city. You had somewhat mapped out the neighbouring blocks from Dabis place so you could find your way.  

***

Opening the door to your apartment felt…odd. Less than 12 hours you’d been at Dabis and it already had you feeling like nowhere else was home anymore. This is fucking crazy. What the hell is happening to you? You try to ignore the web of thoughts in your brain and head to your bedroom to pack a bag of clothes, get changed and pack your toiletries. Once that was done, you went to the kitchen to grab your medications and your expensive teas. Just one of your little guilty pleasures. Like hell I’m leaving them. Shoving them in the packed duffle bag, you head back out to the street and call a taxi to take you back to Dabi. Dabis apartment….not the man…just the apartment.  

***

Walking back into Dabis apartment, you gently placed your duffle bag on the ground near the door and walked into the kitchen to find Dabi sitting at the breakfast bench with his head in his hands. The trip to your place had taken a little longer than planned and it was now just after 10am. When he heard your footsteps round the corner, his head shot up, eyes wide as he drank in the sight of you like he hadn’t seen you in years. He begins to speak, his tone different than you’d heard just hours before.  

“I thought you must have left.”

Has he been sitting here since I left? Did the elevator wake him…?

You suddenly feel self conscious and cross one arm across your body and hold your elbow. “I did. I went to my place to get some clothes and stuff.”

“….I didn’t think you’d come back.”

You take a few silent steps towards him. “Why?”

“Why what?” He says, standing up, not taking his eyes off you.

Taking a few more steps towards him, “Why did you think I wouldn’t come back?”

He closes the distance between you with 2 large steps and stands as close to you as humanly possible without touching you and looks down at you. “Because you know who I am. Most people would have ran to the cops.”

Looking up to those same entrancing eyes, “Well I didn’t.”

“That’s what makes you so intriguing.” He leans down and places his lips on your hairline, then, all too soon, walks off behind you and back into the bedroom, pushing the door almost closed behind him.

What the hell just happened….? Was he…scared? …..What…. For the hundredth time in the last few hours, you’re confused yet again.

Author Note: Well...that’s chapter 3! I hope you enjoyed! I’m working on Chapter 4 now and should have it done in a few days! 

[theexleynatureblog]

Time to talk Vaccines

I will start off with a bias - I am not anti-vax. Why? Because I come from a science background - more ecology and behavior than biochemistry - so I have a lot of exposure to ‘sciency’ stuff.  I am no expert - in fact I barely passed college introductory chemistry with a B - but as sick and tired of I am of listening to anti-vax propaganda everywhere online (and it’s rising importance to modern events) I have to put in my two cents. If y’all won’t listen to over a thousand different scientists with varying degrees and levels of experience, maybe you’ll listen to a cranky college kid who can give you the scoop in plan English.

History of vaccines gives a good, in-depth lessons about where vaccines first came from - if your interested in that aspect. In summary, it covers ancient variants of vaccines, up to Edward Jenner’s 1796 cowpox vaccine, and continued development through the 1930′s. **Penicillin may be the most popular product, but it is used against dangerous bacteria, not virus’. More information here.**

To start off simply: what is a virus? Personally, I like to think about them as tiny robots - lifelike but not living. This question is actually a hot-topic debated by the science community, because we can’t agree on whether or not they are even living. This article from 2008 seems to cover the debate pretty well. Viruses are smaller, and in terms of what they’re made of and how they work, simpler than cells.

This picture gives a good idea of sizes. Note that everything in this picture is microscopic, and cannot be seen with the naked eye. This photo is computer-generated based on information from what we’ve seen in microscopes. Corona-virus is the dark blue circle second from the left. On the far right is what’s probably a typical animal cell. The blue bean thing next to Coronavirus is a bacteria, which are living things and operate differently than viruses, though some bacteria can make people sick. Check out this article for more info on bacteria.

So viruses are smaller than cells, they are also built different. Simply put, viruses are a case of protein with a string of DNA inside. Off the bat, this sounds really similar to bacteria, but there’s one major difference: bacteria can duplicate themselves and viruses cannot. The politically correct term is ‘binary fission’, a kind of asexual reproduction that is basically an organism copying all it’s DNA, splitting the two strains apart, and then stretching everything else into two separate things. I won’t go into all the complex terms and functions (you can read about it more here). All you need to understand is it is a complex possess that requires machinery that virus’ don’t have. So how do virus’ reproduce? They sneak into other cells and hijack their machinery to produce more viruses. 

Because viruses and cells have been living together since life began on this planet billions of years ago, cells have developed forms of protection (from viruses and bacteria). A ‘lock’, basically all across the cell surface. So in order for viruses to continue, they needed to develop a ‘key’. This is why viruses have a host of different shapes. Coronavirus is named after the crown-like spikes, which are proteins that help invade a living cell. Read more about how viruses invade cells here.

Phew! That was a lot, and we haven’t even gotten into vaccine’s yet! That’s because in order to understand vaccines, you have to have some understanding of the thing they are built to fight. The question becomes: If a virus is considered not living, how do you fight it? How do you kill something that’s not alive?

The most obvious answer is just taking it apart. A virus can’t do it’s thing if it’s broken down into single elements. But, as we discussed earlier, viruses are super small. We can barely see them in microscopes (we have to use a super microscope called an Electron microscopes). There’s no physically possible or safe way to crush up/rip apart a virus. Using radiation, water, or fire isn’t practical either. Sure - fire will destroy anything, but you can’t light up a 5-year-old with the flu. Techniques of disassembling viruses are currently being studied, but we still have a lot to learn. 

So, if we can’t break it apart, the only thing we can do is stop it from spreading. This is basically how our immune system works. If a cell is infected, it will send  a piece of the viral protein, to another cell: T-cells. T-cells are cells of the immune system. One type of immune system cell will send a toxin to kill the infected cell, trapping the virus inside and preventing spread. If the toxin doesn’t kill the cell, the rapid replication of the virus will eventually cause it to burst. (Imagine a chicken egg with a thousand chicks falling out). The downside of this is if the virus spreads to fast, and hits important places like the lungs, and a lot of important cells die... whelp, the fight is over. Unlike most parasites that depend on their hosts to be alive and collect nutrients for them, viruses are more reckless - it doesn't’ matter how many cells die as long as the virus keeps spreading.

The other immune defense systems are via interferon and (more commonly known) antibodies. Interferon's work inside a host cell to stop a virus from hijacking a cell’s DNA replication machines while also alerting immune cells to an infection. Antibodies fight against viruses that have not yet entered a cell. Remember back to the ‘lock’ and ‘key’ thing? Here’s where it comes to play! Antibodies stick to the protein of viruses by matching the ‘key’ shapes. If you stick a wad of gum onto you house key, it won’t be able to fit in the lock, and you can’t get into your house. It’s basically the same thing. Antibodies can also make viruses stick together - making them easier to destroy, and also can send a signal to a cell to engulf and destroy a virus.

The reaaaaaaallllllly cool part is that antibodies can ‘remember what viruses look like’. Antibodies hold onto little bits of the virus - proteins - so they can recognize another infection. (Link)  Naturally, whenever we are infected, we produce antibodies for that specific virus/bacteria, however - they only work if A) we survive the initial infection, and B) if we keep getting infected by that specific strain/type of virus. Viruses come in all kinds of shapes and chemical makeups. Even them, groups of viruses within the same ‘species’ can have unique kinds of protein. This is why you need to get a flu shot every year - the shot isn’t for ‘the flue’, it is for the current strain of the flu spreading. (Article from UAB Medicine).

In order to fight viruses, we need to keep our immune system healthy and produce antibodies. In olden days, the way we produced antibodies was by getting infected and working up herd immunity (healthy individuals with antibodies prevent the spread of a disease to those without immunity). The problem with this is: it doesn’t always work. Nature in our world is build on the process of one force creating a wall and an opposing force finding a new way to break it (think Jurassic Park’s life will find a way). As long a pathway exists, a virus will find a way to use it. Herd immunity also works by selecting and removing the weakest links in the group - individuals who cannot fight an infection well die and stop spreading the virus. It works in nature, but in terms of human civilization - it’s not very nice. It is also unbiased, in the natural world. Wild animals have an equal opportunity to be healthy enough to fight an infection - besides those with genetic issues. We should all be painfully aware that human civilization no longer operates on this fair playing field. Only those with a good social and economic standing have the opportunity to be healthy enough. Remember this before you argue ‘herd immunity’.

All this in mind, vaccines are the last reasonable option. According to the CDC, a vaccine consists of a weakened virus or part of a virus introduced to the body so it can produce antibodies. That’s it. Seems like a really cleaver idea, don’t it?

But hang on: you got sick after taking a vaccine? If your symptoms are runny nose/coughing, good news! That’s not the vaccine - it’s you. (CDC article on why vaccine are safer than exposure)  After detecting an infection (even if its not a active virus) the immune system releases histamine, which causes inflamed blood veins and access mucus - sneezing. This can discharge virons, but also used by them to spread to a new host. Some symptoms, like a wet cough, are caused by a viral infection. Fever’s are another example of a immune response, not directly caused by a virus. It’s our brain trying to cook and break apart the proteins of the virus.

The hot topic about vaccines is they are full of scary chemicals that people don’t want to have injected into them. So lets take a closer look at one example, the influenza vaccine.

Formaldehyde - yikes! Scary sounding for sure - formaldehyde is well known for being used in embalming, and linked to cancer. What is less know is it is also an essential building block in lots of items, like building and construction, personal care and consumer products, and automobile manufacturing. The following picture is the chemical molecule.

It is a simply enough molecule made of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. Formaldehyde naturally occurs in the environment, as most living things produce it as part of the metabolic processes (breaking down and absorbing food). At room temperature, formaldehyde is a gas that can be dangerous to inhale in large amounts. When it comes to vaccines, the purpose of formaldehyde is to deactivate the virus - so it doesn’t actually start infecting cells. In small amounts like this, it is harmless. Personally, I’d be more worried about the gaseous forms.

Aluminum Salts - these include hydroxide and phosphate. The purpose of these chemicals in vaccines is to help the body activate it’s immune response.  hydroxide is basically any molecule with hydrogen and oxygen - example, water, and hydrogen dioxide. (What makes molecules dangerous is not necessarily their elements, it is how they are connected). Once again, these are present in amounts too small to be harmful both short and long term.

Thimerosal - This is the ingredient that has anti-vaxxer’s shouting “Oh no theirs mercury!” but that’s not completely true. Since the 1930′s, it has been used in a wide variety of products. It’s purpose is to prevent contamination of the product (vaccine) by bacteria and fungi. Without it, vaccines run the risk of exposing patients to a serious infection. It’s not even used in every vaccine - only ones that require multiple doses, the ones that are at the highest risk of contamination. Thimerosal comes from an inorganic form of mercury called ethylmercury, which is different than other forms of mercury as it does not remain in the body long enough to cause damage. ALSO: this is not the same compound as methylmercury, a toxic compound found in fish due to pollution. 

Chicken Egg proteins - Egg proteins are used to grow a virus before it is put into a vaccine. The virus and the proteins are separated, but there is risk of chicken proteins still being in the vaccine - bad news for people with allergies. This is why it’s important to discuss any allergies with your doctor. Exposure of this protein to people with allergies has not been documented as fatal, but still must be carefully monitored. Luckily, egg-free versions do exist.

Gelatin - this material acts as a stabilizer, keeping the vaccine effective as it enters the body. It protects the vaccine from effects of heat, and freeze drying. Most vaccines use pork-based gelatin, which means people with severe pork allergies should discuss more options with their doctors. 

Antibiotics - antibiotics in vaccines work with Thimerosal to prevent the growth of dangerous bacteria. The antibiotics involved are not allergy-risks, and used in lots of other lotions and ointments. 

So, there is one example. Dealing with stuff that we don’t know or don’t fully understand can be combated by simple research. If you are concerned about the ingredients in a certain vaccine, do some research! Remember - it’s not always what chemicals, but what form they are in. 

#vaccines #anti-vaccination #science #medicine #anti vaxxer

[treya-barton]

4. cooking together for the fluff asks 👀🙏🏻💞 (uh with souyo obvs XD)

Yosuke realized that while he had eaten plenty of meals prepared by his partner, he hadn’t ever watched him actually prepare one before.  Yosuke and Yu were spending their first weekend in their small dorm that they were sharing, and Yu had decided to cook them dinner for the first time. Throughout the week they had used their meal plan or brought something home from the convenience store to eat since they had been so busy with class, but tonight Yu had decided to make them something to celebrate their new relationship and completing their first week of university.  

After their long train ride from Inaba and getting their dorm set up the weekend before their first day of class, Yosuke and Yu had been listening to the album that Yu had shared with him on the ride over.  In the middle of their favorite song, Yosuke had blurted out his confession, and he wasn’t sure who had been more surprised, him or Yu.  He had been planning on waiting and getting settled in before confessing his feelings to Yu, but something about the song just made it seem like the opportune moment and he had spoken before his brain had a chance to catch up with itself.  Usually that only ended in disaster for him, but this time it had worked in his favor with Yu gratefully returning his feelings.

Which brought him back to this moment.  “How do you chop so cleanly?” Yosuke asked.  “I tried helping my mom out in the kitchen a few times but my vegetables always came out looking rough.”  It was the fifth question Yosuke had asked so far as he crowded Yu in their very tiny kitchen.  They had one burner and hardly any counter space, and Yosuke was worried he may be getting in the way and annoying Yu, but he couldn’t help himself.  It was his first time seeing Yu at work making the food that Yosuke loved so much and he wanted to know more about the process. It amazed him at how efficient Yu was in the kitchen, even if he really wasn’t surprised since he had tasted the fruit of his efforts in the past.  Also, he could tell by how relaxed his partner was how much he enjoyed cooking and he felt himself drawn to the process even more; he wanted to experience the things that brought Yu joy, just as Yu had for him.

To his surprise, Yu wordlessly placed the knife in Yosuke’s hand and positioned him where he had just been standing.  He then stepped behind Yosuke, having to press close due to the lack of space in the kitchen, before placing one hand over Yosuke’s on the knife and his other over Yosuke’s free hand.  “Hold the knife like this,” Yu instructed, carefully adjusting Yosuke’s fingers until the knife rested more naturally in his hand.  Yosuke shivered slightly at the sound of Yu’s voice next to his ear and the feeling of his warm breath over his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but feel flushed over how close together they were.  He glanced at Yu and noticed that his cheeks were also tinged with pink, although he seemed very focused on showing Yosuke what to do.  Seeing that Yu was also flustered somehow helped Yosuke relax a little, and he returned his focus back to the matter at hand.

“Like this?” he asked, and Yu withdrew his hand as Yosuke showed his grip on the knife.  It was a little different from holding his kunai, but it still felt pretty natural now that he knew how to hold it properly.

“Perfect.  Now I want you to slice the top off of the onion, holding your fingers of your other hand bent like this and away from the knife to avoid cutting yourself,” Yu explained, using his other hand to position Yosuke’s to show him how to hold the onion.  Yosuke did so and was surprised by how easily the knife sliced through; Yu seemed to keep his sharper than the ones his mom had at home.  Yu showed Yosuke how to peel the outer layer off on the onion before walking him through how to cut it in half and how to make the cuts so he would be able to do an even dice, using the curved fingers on his free hand to keep the knife aligned on the onion as he went.  Within minutes, Yosuke had a perfectly even diced onion, and he looked at his little pile in amazement.

“Did I really just do that?” he asked excitedly, and Yu grinned at him.  Yosuke continued to cut the rest of the vegetables with guidance from Yu as his boyfriend prepared the rice and chicken for their curry.  Yosuke watched him as he expertly diced the chicken and noted how quick and efficient he was with the knife, and he wondered how long it would take him to feel as comfortable as Yu was.

Yosuke at least knew how to use the butane burner since he had helped set up the ones at work that they used when cooking samples for customers, and Yu showed him what setting to use in order to cook the onions, peppers, and carrots so they would soften before they added the chicken.  Yosuke had fun using the wooden spoon to push the vegetables around, and he relished in the fact he was really cooking for the first time.  It was pretty fun, even if smelling the food as he worked on it was starting to make him feel hungry. Yu was peeling the potatoes and dicing them up so it wouldn’t take as long for them to soften up once they added the water. Yosuke had offered to do so, but Yu had replied that the work was tedious and could be slow and that he’d let Yosuke try his hand at it another time.  After watching Yu peel potato after potato, Yosuke couldn’t help but feel his partner had made the right choice.

“The chicken looks like it’s cooked through,” Yosuke commented, after noticing that none of the pieces looked pink anymore.  

“Time to add the water then,” Yu replied, giving Yosuke the measurements so he could pour it into their measuring cup.  He then poured in the water and brought up the heat in order to bring it to a boil. Yu added the potatoes and had Yosuke bring the temperature back down in order for it to simmer for 20 minutes.

“Now it’s time to clean up while we wait,” Yu instructed.  Yosuke put on some music for them and as Yu washed each dish that they had used to cook, Yosuke dried it and put it away.  In no time at all, they had both finished and still had some time to spare while the rice and curry cooked.  “It’s nice to have someone help me cook,” Yu mused.  “Nanako would help stir sometimes but she’s young so she could only do so much. You really did a great job – I appreciate the help.”

Yosuke beamed at the praise and put his arm around Yu’s shoulders.  “Only because I had a great teacher,” he said, shyly pressing his lips to Yu’s cheek.  Yu blushed and buried his head against Yosuke’s shoulder.

“You’re a good student,” he replied.  “You catch on pretty quick.”  His hand clutched at the collar of Yosuke’s shirt, and Yosuke couldn’t help but find it cute that his normally confident partner was acting so shy.  They had so far been moving pretty slow, since they were still getting used to the idea of being a couple, which in retrospect had made Yu’s move earlier where he was practically hugging Yosuke as he showed him how to dice a pretty big step forward.  Yosuke wrapped both arms around Yu and hugged him to his chest for a moment, relishing in how good it felt to be so close to him, before Yu’s timer on his phone went off, signaling that it had been 20 minutes.

“Time to add the curry blocks,” Yu said, pulling away from Yosuke as he opened the package that was sitting out on the counter.  He handed it to Yosuke who broke apart each block and tossed it into the curry, before mixing it in until the blocks dissolved and formed the roux.  The food finally began to smell like curry, and Yosuke felt his mouth water.

“Give it about five minutes for the roux to thicken and we’ll be ready to eat,” Yu instructed.  The rice in the rice cooker dinged to let them know it was ready, and Yu moved to pull down some bowls for them to use.  He shoveled some rice into each bowl, and once five minutes had passed the curry was finally ready to go and Yosuke took the bowls in order to spoon the curry over the rice.  To his surprise, instead of taking a bite right away Yu offered his first bite to Yosuke while looking at him expectantly.  “It’s your first time making curry, right?” Yu pointed out.  “You deserve to get the first taste.”

Yosuke shyly opened his mouth and leaned forward in order to eat from Yu’s spoon, blowing for a moment to cool down the steaming curry before taking the bite.  The curry tasted delicious, and Yosuke quickly took a spoonful from his own bowl before offering it to Yu.  “Not quite as good as the stuff you make from scratch, but I can honestly say I’m pretty happy with it,” Yosuke said.  Yu grinned at him before taking his own bite, his eyes sliding closed as he chewed thoughtfully.

“This is the best curry I’ve ever had,” he said once he had savored his bite, and Yosuke blushed before poking his arm.

“We both know that’s not true,” he replied and Yu shook his head before opening his mouth again, clearly wanting Yosuke to feed him another bite. Yosuke complied, and after Yu finished eating with a satisfied sigh he gave Yosuke a thoughtful look.

“I am being honest. There’s something special about a dish someone lovingly cooks for you,” he replied.

Yosuke rubbed the back of his head before softly muttering, “Maybe that’s why your food always tastes so damn good,” which caused Yu to grin at him.

“It was always cooked with love,” he said straightforwardly, and Yosuke quickly shoved another mouthful of curry in Yu’s mouth in order to get him to stop talking.  They continued to feed each other the rest of their meal, and they each ended up eating an extra bowl which left hardly any left for lunch the next day which had been the original plan.  After putting away the pitiful amount of leftovers and cleaning up the rest of the dishes, they made their way to the couch where they cuddled up against each other, bellies full and happy after their delicious meal.

“We should do this every Saturday,” Yosuke decided.  “You teach me how to cook something new until I get good enough to do it on my own.”

“I like that idea. Although I wouldn’t mind both of us cooking together all the time,” Yu replied.

“You never know – I may want to surprise you one day,” Yosuke replied with a twinkle in his eye. Yu smiled at him before leaning forward and placing a quick, chaste kiss against Yosuke’s lips.  It was warm and tasted faintly of the curry they had just shared, and the gesture filled Yosuke’s heart with ease.  

“A home cooked meal from my partner?  Sounds good to me,” Yu agreed.  He looked excited at the idea, and Yosuke couldn’t wait until he had enough skills to make it a reality.  He wanted Yu to really know how much he appreciated him and was glad he now had something that Yu was passionate about that he could share with him.  He looked forward to what next Saturday had in store.

#souyo #p4 #hanamura yosuke #narukami yu

[sirjustice1153]

Making of Gold

Gold made on roadside basement or tunnel on the hill or big tank on water or in soil or grass sand land and u step on orange within pumpkin leave on the soil or tangerine peel with hole on grass sand land or mango seed on pumpkin leave on watery clay land with tunnel b4 u hurl the heap with milk as from lofty high on a crane u can place the step on environment on metallic trays or from just where u r standing dude and boom ya Gold bars and with gravel makes gold medals and with grass or any veggies, cereal, seeds, hay, fruits and berries or anything makes other gold products, with silver u replace milk with water, coppers with thinner, titanium with mango juice and any precious stone or metal replace with another fluid or chemical or anything as u try employing the mega step on process as grind all veggies, fruits, berries, leaves and if not all like 10 samples and place in a container as u mark them to place each on such containers in holes made in 1 fruit, veggies, berries slashed thin outer peel but not in the mega mix and as well as make holes in any leave, stem, roots, animal flesh, bones, skin and of anything as polythene, paper, clothes, plastics, flowers, which u place on the samples of the grinned or smashed b4 u step on in surfaces such as bruised floors, smooth floors, grass sand lands, mud lands, floor tiles, plastics, gravel polished floors, plastic carpets and clothes ones, bed sheets, duvets, reeds, metallic plates, iron sheets, other roofing and clothing and big or small leaves of others plants not in the heap or the made on hole as above dude until u make what u know or not dude, but on the heap u can add acidified water or mineral water 4 better results dude

The world can tilt and pour out all the inhabitants on such continents until finished as they listen not 4 other to occupy such lands if all nations in it not generous or good to the poor as in Americas continents We got the Yesterday Riddim singers maybe to alter that move or just a nation as India can tilt on its south tip and water gets into the land to kill or its inhabitants and if not so like Germany tilt and all people get into the crust dude, all can happen if they relent not, if 1 above ya soften ya stand on him alone though tough on others as they believed in Charles Darwin theory of no God but now they know of Hell in Minneapolis which u cant play dice as send ya dignitary to come tell ya as no excuse dude. It will be more tolerable 4 the inhabitant of Sidion and Gomorah or Tire than of that city built on the hill at Judgement day in Minneapolis as the normal burning days are 7 day not forever as earlier thought dude but God extended the burning days with them up-to 100 days or more as i hear but with this current city whose in inhabitants not killed yet as above or using missile or weaker point within lakes on such lands as described earlier it will even be 100 years or forever dude as they got the evidence and proof as with DNA, bracelets, Radar sensor 4 bombs and more yet still playing dice bro. Better burn faster and go ya way dude as 1 week than prolonged, lost coin parable and road to Emaus with Christ dude as she Told me dude, tung tung tung tung 2 tungu tungu x3

Opening metals and walls to steal way or method to do, step on hay on cement fumes on bruised cement floor and do the WWE X-style dude or knock with a coin on the metallic surface or step on Sodom fruit within hole made on cactus on tiles or plastic carpet 4 concrete walls dude or step on hay with wet boxes on those floors as u can carry made 1 or wet cloth with acidified water on grass made hole pattern or on tangerine outer peel on such floors dude as u talk to the Devil dude

Even if u got ya own radar and still rude such weakness points along the lakes can be detonated from above when they overwhelm ya or from below the earth lest u be 1st than them or remove the lake. Dont worship God, make you know as u want good things and Good things are in developed world and Known that way, just respect the law and his name but not be fervently tied to church things dude. living long is not embedded in such dude as it can be ya excuse, living long dwells in respect 4 the weak and not joiners of things as mostly u r a loner as God grants ya longevity and drinking soda like Fanta and coke bottle top already open 4 long in ya sleep if u wake up as military men tought the same bro and staying in fresh circulating oxygen lands like Forested lands dude and using like normal water not refrigerated but cool dude

Like with samosa place few in any leave but mostly with medicinal value or on water, then step on such as above on those lands in tanks or hanging like dustbin container just below it step with either bare foot, shoes of rubber soul or plastic and sandles of any nature as this also affects the results dude, happens with thin and not with this and even with kiri kiri dude. They take any food as cereals, groundnuts, tea leaves or dough and more, wipe kinda on their running or kid nose or pussy clean or not or on wiped booty and make such much in the boom process b4 serving us with. Friends how can this be checked and even bathing water they immersed such on b4 doing the same as above. One might take the same and take to medical person to inflict an omen to those people doing the same as above so be warned dude. The above environment applies to githeri and mtura, only difference is time of making, in bright day light, looking the other-side or towards the heap, few or many people or under dark but using light dimmers or in complete dark dude or under moonlight bro, same applies to buyus and kebabs dude

With red building bricks when heap salted grass in sewer water, u step on hay within cut cabbage piece on floor tile, then carry the boxing like cylinder leather bag on ya arms elbow and u fuck a woman in Dodgy style dude in those containers placed on sand or soil or water at different heights dude or when planted grass with banner style option the photo pointing diagonally or sample brick next to hay dude, while with building blocks the heap should be cooked cassava in sewer water as u step on hay within tangerine peel in tiles chopping board soaked in pineapple on top hay or cooked cabbage dude while with stone u place hay within sewer water, step on tangerine amidst pumpkin leaves on tiles chopping hay on board soaked on acid, mineral water or cabbage and raw mango extract dude and with road side block like bars, heap planted grass in sewer water, then step on cut raw mango piece within pumpkin leaf on floor tile or bruised floor then on wood soaked on pineapple juice chop mango seed or hay dude. Road tar made when hay placed in sewer water, then on wood soaked on pineapple juice chop passion fruit after stepping on euphorbia inner white leave stick stem after peel but dry on wood in between book paper immersed on cooking oil as with other oil or detergent gives u another product as u can try dude, with body apply oil gives u E-tiny cars and even with cooking fat gives ya timers dude

Take the shaft of any machine with all wheels intact and place on sewer water, grass or in any heap then hurl with boiled neem/mwarubaine leave extract or juice after stepping on all grinned as above and boom that car or vehicle dude or the below part of old ships or water vessels or airplane dude mostly in made like deep pool roadside tunnel of big brown stone or big tank of any shape placed into soil or water at different heights dude and even with photos of such shaft folded or bent at different angles or styles b4 hurling with the same gives u those cars or machines as above and even with fabricated houses, aerial photos u bent or fold and hurl the same gives u those houses dude and with medicine u hurl with milk on aerial photos or take from above and folded and with anything dude locating the heap to step on to give ya what u want as u can do it many folks dude.The shaft even placed on banner makes such machines dude as u can try on both ends 4 durable parts and even with spare parts of any machine displayed on such banners dude

The water generator uses the thermostat technology place on ya body to charge like your phone as with thermos flask u can make a hole to fix many such and connect into series connect b4 letting the wires out the lid b4 like sealling those holes to keep the water hot much longer using like the glue or roofing tar or just use 1 thermostat and step it up dude as in the link below and can use a timer as with Nigerian or Uganda water generator to tie a coil to heat the water when it cools down as u have monitor it to set the timer dude

https://www.travelandleisure.com/travel-tips/cool-gadgets/biolite-camping-stove-review

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fae01.alicdn.com%2Fkf%2FHTB1_aXPdlDH8KJjSszcq6zDTFXaB%2F5200mAh-Power-Bank-External-Battery-Charger-for-Smart-Phone-Hand-Warmer-Temperature-Control-Pocket-Powerbank-for.jpg_Q90.jpg_.webp&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.aliexpress.com%2Fitem%2F32841300564.html&tbnid=9pN5_rKa_YvBfM&vet=12ahUKEwiK_KjFl7HtAhUZ8IUKHT9BDjoQMygJegUIARDAAQ..i&docid=MOZPFEWGYbZawM&w=800&h=800&itg=1&q=charging%20phone%20using%20hand%20temperatures&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwiK_KjFl7HtAhUZ8IUKHT9BDjoQMygJegUIARDAAQ

The new burial way where casket fixed on drones which are removable or fixed to save people from burial expenses associated with hiring convoys dude as in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLbvAFxprzw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14r7f9khK70

U want people to be with ya kids as u say the bad and when u realize u cant defeat them change the puzzle dude as u r monitoring if they can be with ya kid, dude who is poor and got power and can be killed as above easily, answer me dude, daily that way, Negro can t come here lest to kill ya as they have known how to make all ya treasures and cash-crops and even herbs artificially dude to remove the puzzle am feeling better to see them with those women when am here so taking a flight to like Canada who have seen i have left u Pi coins so what u want dude. We aint animals to live as cluster but as families dude get to the park then dude

Human hair and wig made much when place like in sewer water then step on hay on orange peel on tile or grass sand land b4 chopping hay on board soaked in mango juice or pineapple juice bro in the dark homies and even ladies purse, bags, Q-text, male wallet and belts of both

News paper made much likewise when u step on hay within book paper with oil traces on tiles and books on bruised floor or step on tangerine on placed on floor on tiles hay with made hole with fingers 4 books or 4 news paper place lemon peel in place of tangerine and chop pineapple soaked wood on it chilies or mixture of all veggies/fruits to bar u from such tussle when only place sample way or banner method dude on any fruit soaked board but mostly pineapple dude and with tissue when placed in sewer water step on tangerine on hole made on egg shell on the same or on Irish potato on such floor b4 chopping wood soaked on pineapple kale and cabbage 4 book like tissue rolls. Take or cut small cube pieces of every veggies, fruits or berries and even leaves as above not to be much b4 u chop on such woods and even with seeds and cereals, roots, stem, back etc and same applies 4 Xmas accessories like lights, trees, balloon, CD and paper work and the glittering Xmas materials but applying those methods on environment if u visualize making the same u see what u wanna make in cluster or much dude

PS5 PHOTO IN a banner sideways from net in like sewer water heap in a bucket in roadside dustbin way made container then step on hay on wood soaked on pineapple with grass sand land, the board, kinda, in sand b4 u chop kale on wood soaked in pineapple in the dark while with PS4 same photo on a banner slanting diagonally in buckets placed on the floor or iron tanks inside placed blanket or clothe lining b4 placing like sewer water, then step on hay on such board as above b4 chopping garlic on wood soaked on grinned pork meat stew or chopping board garlic and pork meat on soft wood soaked on pineapple dude and with D-lights like box the folded photo in like planted grass heap in roadside ditches lining of black polythene bag or of any color which gives it its color as clothe with holes with any machine, then step on hay on board as above b4 u chop kale on wood soaked on euphorbia milk. While the wireless electric truck made when such photo on the net placed on banner like on planted grass heap within coastal lands at night, step on tangerine on hole made on kale on such white sand, then chop hay on board soaked on tangerine juice or apple juice or on maize cob soaked in baby glucose water dude in such sand bro

#q #-texts #lip ban #bags

[sirjustice1156]

Step on it dude

Gold made on roadside basement or tunnel on the hill or big tank on water or in soil or grass sand land and u step on orange within pumpkin  leave on the soil or tangerine peel with hole on grass sand land or mango seed on pumpkin leave on watery clay land with tunnel b4 u hurl the heap with milk as from lofty high on a crane u can place the step on  environment on metallic trays or from just where u r standing dude and  boom ya Gold bars and with gravel makes gold medals and with grass or  any veggies, cereal, seeds, hay, fruits and berries or anything makes  other gold products, with silver u replace milk with water, coppers with  thinner, titanium with mango juice and any precious stone or metal  replace with another fluid or chemical or anything as u try employing  the mega step on process as grind all veggies, fruits, berries, leaves  and if not all like 10 samples and place in a container as u mark them  to place each on such containers in holes made in 1 fruit, veggies,  berries slashed thin outer peel but not in the mega mix and as well as  make holes in any leave, stem, roots, animal flesh, bones, skin and of  anything as polythene, paper, clothes, plastics, flowers, which u place  on the samples of the grinned or smashed b4 u step on in surfaces such  as bruised floors, smooth floors, grass sand lands, mud lands, floor  tiles, plastics, gravel polished floors, plastic carpets and clothes  ones, bed sheets, duvets, reeds, metallic plates, iron sheets, other  roofing and clothing and big or small leaves of others plants not in the  heap or the made on hole as above dude until u make what u know or not  dude, but on the heap u can add acidified water or mineral water 4  better results dude

The world can tilt and pour out all the  inhabitants on such continents until finished as they listen not 4 other  to occupy such lands if all nations in it not generous or good to the  poor as in Americas continents We got the Yesterday Riddim singers maybe  to alter that move or just a nation as India can tilt on its south tip  and water gets into the land to kill or its inhabitants and if not so  like Germany tilt and all people get into the crust dude, all can happen  if they relent not, if 1 above ya soften ya stand on him alone though  tough on others as they believed in Charles Darwin theory of no God but  now they know of Hell in Minneapolis which u cant play dice as send ya  dignitary to come tell ya as no excuse dude. It will be more tolerable 4  the inhabitant of Sidion and Gomorah or Tire than of that city built on  the hill at Judgement day in Minneapolis as the normal burning days are  7 day not forever as earlier thought dude but God extended the burning  days with them up-to 100 days or more as i hear but with this current  city whose in inhabitants not killed yet as above or using missile or  weaker point within lakes on such lands as described earlier it will  even be 100 years or forever dude as they got the evidence and proof as  with DNA, bracelets, Radar sensor 4 bombs and more yet still playing  dice bro. Better burn faster and go ya way dude as 1 week than  prolonged, lost coin parable and road to Emaus with Christ dude as she  Told me dude, tung tung tung tung 2 tungu tungu x3

Opening metals  and walls to steal way or method to do, step on hay on cement fumes on  bruised cement floor and do the WWE X-style dude or knock with a coin on  the metallic surface or step on Sodom fruit within hole made on cactus  on tiles or plastic carpet 4 concrete walls dude or step on hay with wet boxes on those floors as u can carry made 1 or wet cloth with acidified  water on grass made hole pattern or on tangerine outer peel on such floors dude as u talk to the Devil dude

Even if u got ya own radar  and still rude such weakness points along the lakes can be detonated  from above when they overwhelm ya or from below the earth lest u be 1st  than them or remove the lake. Dont worship God, make you know as u want  good things and Good things are in developed world and Known that way,  just respect the law and his name but not be fervently tied to church  things dude. living long is not embedded in such dude as it can be ya  excuse, living long dwells in respect 4 the weak and not joiners of  things as mostly u r a loner as God grants ya longevity and drinking  soda like Fanta and coke bottle top already open 4 long in ya sleep if u  wake up as military men tought the same bro and staying in fresh  circulating oxygen lands like Forested lands dude and using like normal  water not refrigerated but cool dude

Like with samosa place few in  any leave but mostly with medicinal value or on water, then step on  such as above on those lands in tanks or hanging like dustbin container  just below it step with either bare foot, shoes of rubber soul or  plastic and sandles of any nature as this also affects the results dude,  happens with thin and not with this and even with kiri kiri dude. They  take any food as cereals, groundnuts, tea leaves or dough and more, wipe  kinda on their running or kid nose or pussy clean or not or on wiped  booty and make such much in the boom process b4 serving us with. Friends  how can this be checked and even bathing water they immersed such on b4  doing the same as above. One might take the same and take to medical  person to inflict an omen to those people doing the same as above so be  warned dude. The above environment applies to githeri and mtura, only  difference is time of making, in bright day light, looking the  other-side or towards the heap, few or many people or under dark but  using light dimmers or in complete dark dude or under moonlight bro,  same applies to buyus and kebabs dude

With red building bricks  when heap salted grass in sewer water, u step on hay within cut cabbage  piece on floor tile, then carry the boxing like cylinder leather bag on  ya arms elbow and u fuck a woman in Dodgy style dude in those  containers placed on sand or soil or water at different heights dude or  when planted grass with banner style option the photo pointing  diagonally or sample brick next to hay dude, while with building blocks  the heap should be cooked cassava in sewer water as u step on hay within  tangerine peel in tiles chopping board soaked in pineapple on top hay  or cooked cabbage dude while with stone u place hay within sewer water,  step on tangerine amidst pumpkin leaves on tiles chopping hay on board  soaked on acid, mineral water or cabbage and raw mango extract dude and  with road side block like bars, heap planted grass in sewer water, then  step on cut raw mango piece within pumpkin leaf on floor tile or bruised  floor then on wood soaked on pineapple juice chop mango seed or hay  dude. Road tar made when hay placed in sewer water, then on wood soaked  on pineapple juice chop passion fruit after stepping on euphorbia inner  white leave stick stem after peel but dry on wood in between book paper  immersed on cooking oil as with other oil or detergent gives u another  product as u can try dude, with body apply oil gives u E-tiny cars and  even with cooking fat gives ya timers dude

Take the shaft of any  machine with all wheels intact and place on sewer water, grass or in any  heap then hurl with boiled neem/mwarubaine leave extract or juice after  stepping on all grinned as above and boom that car or vehicle dude or  the below part of old ships or water vessels or airplane dude mostly in  made like deep pool roadside tunnel of big brown stone or big tank of  any shape placed into soil or water at different heights dude and even  with photos of such shaft folded or bent at different angles or styles  b4 hurling with the same gives u those cars or machines as above and  even with fabricated houses, aerial photos u bent or fold and hurl the  same gives u those houses dude and with medicine u hurl with milk on  aerial photos or take from above and folded and with anything dude  locating the heap to step on to give ya what u want as u can do it many  folks dude.The shaft even placed on banner makes such machines dude as u  can try on both ends 4 durable parts and even with spare parts of any machine displayed on such banners dude

The water generator uses the thermostat technology place on ya body to charge like your phone as  with thermos flask u can make a hole to fix many such and connect into  series connect b4 letting the wires out the lid b4 like sealling those  holes to keep the water hot much longer using like the glue or roofing  tar or just use 1 thermostat and step it up dude as in the link below and can use a timer as with Nigerian or Uganda water generator to tie a  coil to heat the water when it cools down as u have monitor it to set the timer dude

https://www.travelandleisure.com/travel-tips/cool-gadgets/biolite-camping-stove-review

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fae01.alicdn.com%2Fkf%2FHTB1_aXPdlDH8KJjSszcq6zDTFXaB%2F5200mAh-Power-Bank-External-Battery-Charger-for-Smart-Phone-Hand-Warmer-Temperature-Control-Pocket-Powerbank-for.jpg_Q90.jpg_.webp&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.aliexpress.com%2Fitem%2F32841300564.html&tbnid=9pN5_rKa_YvBfM&vet=12ahUKEwiK_KjFl7HtAhUZ8IUKHT9BDjoQMygJegUIARDAAQ..i&docid=MOZPFEWGYbZawM&w=800&h=800&itg=1&q=charging%20phone%20using%20hand%20temperatures&client=ms-google-coop&ved=2ahUKEwiK_KjFl7HtAhUZ8IUKHT9BDjoQMygJegUIARDAAQ

The  new burial way where casket fixed on drones which are removable or fixed to save people from burial expenses associated with hiring convoys  dude as in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLbvAFxprzw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14r7f9khK70

U  want people to be with ya kids as u say the bad and when u realize u cant defeat them change the puzzle dude as u r monitoring if they can be  with ya kid, dude who is poor and got power and can be killed as above  easily, answer me dude, daily that way, Negro can t come here lest to  kill ya as they have known how to make all ya treasures and cash-crops  and even herbs artificially dude to remove the puzzle am feeling better  to see them with those women when am here so taking a flight to like  Canada who have seen i have left u Pi coins so what u want dude. We aint  animals to live as cluster but as families dude get to the park then  dude

Human hair and wig made much when place like in sewer water  then step on hay on orange peel on tile or grass sand land b4 chopping  hay on board soaked in mango juice or pineapple juice bro in the dark  homies and even ladies purse, bags, Q-text, male wallet and belts of  both

News paper made much likewise when u step on hay within  book paper with oil traces on tiles and books on bruised floor or step  on tangerine on placed on floor on tiles hay with made hole with fingers  4 books or 4 news paper place lemon peel in place of tangerine and chop  pineapple soaked wood on it chilies or mixture of all veggies/fruits to  bar u from such tussle when only place sample way or banner method dude  on any fruit soaked board but mostly pineapple dude and with tissue  when placed in sewer water step on tangerine on hole made on egg shell  on the same or on Irish potato on such floor b4 chopping wood soaked on  pineapple kale and cabbage 4 book like tissue rolls. Take or cut small  cube pieces of every veggies, fruits or berries and even leaves as above  not to be much b4 u chop on such woods and even with seeds and cereals,  roots, stem, back etc and same applies 4 Xmas accessories like lights,  trees, balloon, CD and paper work and the glittering Xmas materials but  applying those methods on environment if u visualize making the same u  see what u wanna make in cluster or much dude

PS5 PHOTO IN a  banner sideways from net in like sewer water heap in a bucket in  roadside dustbin way made container then step on hay on wood soaked on  pineapple with grass sand land, the board, kinda, in sand b4 u chop kale  on wood soaked in pineapple in the dark while with PS4 same photo on a  banner slanting diagonally in buckets placed on the floor or iron tanks  inside placed blanket or clothe lining b4 placing like sewer water, then  step on hay on such board as above b4 chopping garlic on wood soaked on  grinned pork meat stew or chopping board garlic and pork meat on soft  wood soaked on pineapple dude and with D-lights like box the folded  photo in like planted grass heap in roadside ditches lining of black  polythene bag or of any color which gives it its color as clothe with  holes with any machine, then step on hay on board as above b4 u chop  kale on wood soaked on euphorbia milk. While the wireless electric truck  made when such photo on the net placed on banner like on planted grass  heap within coastal lands at night, step on tangerine on hole made on  kale on such white sand, then chop hay on board soaked on tangerine  juice or apple juice or on maize cob soaked in baby glucose water dude  in such sand bro

Kikuyu blooded as Luo or Kisii will not relent unless killed or take a flight to another to monitor again their sayings as much nations have learnt to make machines even of military they did not know of yesterday to solve the whole puzzle that Hindu cant continue controlling the world lest killed. Bulshit, stupid and silly, thought u wont get out, Motherfucker of bad skin when of age, thu and silly, curse of all time, ugly and insane when of age, u poor and silly or wretched.

Kebi bruised as one hit him with a rungu of red India but recuperating after weeks massaging the wound around, ha ah my beloved, press it slowly, all around it, my only one, my better half, do it in a tender way, circle woman, kinda, when u do the same fades pain away and kinda, my adversaries fades away, massage it babe