#historical underwear breakfast

[badassindistress]

In an effort to be the change I want to see in the world, I am hosting a historical underwear teaparty next month. Yesterday I amused myself by putting together combinations from my collection that my friends might like to wear

[rosesutherlandwrites]

I just saw a post that reminds me: I need to have more Historical Underwear Breakfast. The last one made me so happy, and I need an excuse to find myself a wider assortment of old-school underpinnings.

[ahqkas]

♯ PRACTICE MAKES IT BETTER ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin (based off this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.3k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing + lmk !

NOTES! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

AMERICA WAS VIBRANT AND DIVERSE. The music scene was thriving with genres like grunge, hip-hop, and pop dominating the airwaves. To you, it was a place of contrasts and boundless possibilities. It was a land where towering skyscrapers stood next to historic buildings, and where you could find everything from bustling cities to quiet, open countryside. The diversity was striking; every state feels like its own little world, with different cultures, foods, and ways of life. It was a country where you could experience all four seasons, with hot summers, cold winters, and vibrant springs and autumns. The sheer size and variety made it feel like there was always something new to explore, whether it was a national park, a music festival, or just a quirky little town.

Then you moved to England.

Leaving behind the familiar sights and sounds of America, you stepped into a new world of magic and centuries-old traditions.

The first thing you noticed was the climate change. England's weather was full of frequent rain and cloudy skies. You had to get used to bringing an umbrella everywhere with you.

Hogwarts in Scotland was completely different from Ilvermorny, which resided on Mount Greylock. The towering buildings of the castle intimidated you a bit as you were used to the more modern school, but you were excited for the change of scenery.

The stone corridors, moving staircases, and enchanted portraits had captivated your imagination. The castle itself was full of new discoveries. Sure, you missed your old friends dearly, every one of them, but the owls worked hard and you managed to make new friends here.

As an exchange student from America, walking the hallowed halls of Hogwarts was a totally new experience. The ancient castle with its sprawling grounds, enchanted staircases, and hidden passageways was like stepping into a dream. But it wasn't just the magical environment that threw you off balance; it was the British slang that seemed to pop up in every conversation.

During your first week, you found yourself constantly bewildered by the new expressions. At breakfast, when a cheerful Hufflepuff asked if you wanted a "banger" with your eggs, you hesitated, unsure if it was an insult or a menu item. When a Ravenclaw mentioned being "knackered" after a long night of studying, you had to suppress a laugh, thinking it sounded more like a sound effect from a comic book than an expression of exhaustion.

The confusion was endless: "snogging" instead of kissing, "knickers" instead of underwear, "blimey" instead of a simple exclamation of surprise. You did your best to keep up, but the nuances of the language often left you feeling like you were missing the punchline of a joke. To put it simply, you were lost.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the library, poring over a stack of books for a Transfiguration assignment, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Ciao, piccola," Theodore Nott drawled, sliding into the seat across from yours. His presence was effortlessly welcomed, with his cool demeanor and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was a strange boy at first, never letting anyone, but when you warmed up to him, he was a totally new person.

"Hi, Theo," you greeted him with a smile playing on your lips. Theodore had been one of the first students to approach you, his Italian heritage a surprising connection. He often teased you in his native language, enjoying the way you fumbled with the unfamiliar phrases. A nuisance, that he was.

"Come va la tua giornata?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ("How's your day doing?")

Already hearing this phrase a few times, you learned to understand its translation. With a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's been . . . interesting. I'm still trying to understand half of what everyone says here."

Theo chuckled, the sound rich and warm to your ears. "British slang getting to you?"

"You could say that," you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you watched his amusement at your misery. "I feel like I need a translator just for conversations."

"Well, if you think British slang is confusing, wait until I teach you some Italian slang," Theo smirked at the idea that appeared on his mind. "It's a whole different level."

Now this got your attention. "Teach me, then. It can't be that difficult from the British slang."

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott became your informal language tutor. He started with simple phrases, weaving them into everyday conversations until you began to pick them up naturally. He taught you how to greet someone with "Ciao, amico!" instead of a formal "Buongiorno," and how to say "Andiamo!" when you were ready to go.

One rainy afternoon, as you sat together in the Great Hall, Theo decided to test your knowledge. The rain tapped persistently against the high, arched windows, casting a muted gray light across the large hall. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the sky outside, swirling with dark clouds and flashes of lightning that illuminated the space completely. Despite the dreary weather, the Great Hall buzzed with the soft hum of student conversations, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the rustling of pages.

Theo, seated across from you at the Slytherin table, leaned back casually, a mischievous glint in his eye. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, framing his sharp features. You had grown accustomed to his teasing, the way he delighted in challenging you with phrases in Italian, watching with amusement as you thought through the unfamiliar language. Today was no different, his eyes scanning the hall as if seeking inspiration for his next test.

You had been in the midst of revising for an upcoming Charms exam, your notes spread out around you in a chaotic array of parchment and textbooks. The soft light from the floating candles above cast a warm glow on the pages, making the ink shimmer slightly. As Theo's gaze returned to you, you knew another one of his lessons was coming.

"What would you say if you were really tired?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Theo's questions were always a blend of practical and playful, designed to push you just a little further each time. He spoke with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his skin, his words flowing like the rain outside, steady and sure. His Italian phrases, though foreign at first, began to weave themselves into the mind of your understanding.

Your responses grew more confident, the hesitation in your voice diminishing with each passing day. You found yourself thinking in Italian at times, the language slipping into your thoughts as naturally as your own. Theo's delight was evident, his eyes lighting up whenever you got something right, his praise sincere and heartfelt.

The rain outside showed no signs of letting up, but within the Great Hall, a warmth lingered.

You thought for a moment, then confidently replied, "Sono stanca morta." The phrase rolled off your tongue more smoothly than before, each syllable a small victory in your journey to master his native language. The meaning — "I'm dead tired" — was all too familiar after long days filled with classes and studying.

Theo laughed, the sound rich and genuine, echoing softly in the near-empty Great Hall. His laughter was like a reward, a confirmation that you were getting it right. Silver eyes sparkled with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart flutter. The warmth of his reaction was comforting against the dreary, rain-soaked afternoon outside.

"Well done!" His voice was filled with genuine pride and delight, making you feel accomplished. His praise was never out of place; it was always heartfelt.

Your heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy. Learning Italian was not just about understanding a new language, but also about bridging the gap between your worlds. Each phrase, each word, was a step closer to understanding Theo better, and a way to connect on a deeper level.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours, waiting for your next move. "And if you wanted to compliment someone on a job well done?" His question was another gentle challenge, pushing you to dig deeper into your newfound vocabulary.

"Bravo!" you answered without hesitation. The word felt natural, a perfect fit for the context. As you spoke, you couldn't help but smile, the simple word carrying a world of meaning and mutual respect. Seeing the approval in Theo's eyes, you felt a surge of confidence.

Theo's smile broadened, and his expression softened with pride and admiration. The approval in his eyes was more than just about your grasp of the language; it was about your willingness to immerse yourself in something new, to share a part of his heritage, to make an effort to connect.

The atmosphere around you felt lighter, the earlier tension of the day's studies dissolving into a shared moment of triumph and connection. The Great Hall, with its towering windows and ancient stone walls, seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world of language and laughter.

The candles above flickered gently, casting a warm glow that danced across Theo's features, highlighting the pride in his eyes.

One day, as you walked together by the Black Lake, the cold water reflecting the moody sky, Theo turned to you, his expression thoughtful. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees that lined the shore, their branches swaying rhythmically as if in silent conversation. The scene was picturesque, the expanse of the lake stretching out before you, a serene contrast to the bustling life within the castle walls. It was quiet out here, and you liked this spot.

"You know, you've picked up Italian slang faster than I expected," Theo remarked, his voice carrying a hint of admiration and surprise. His thoughtful tone blended seamlessly with the natural sounds around you, creating a moment of perfect harmony.

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree, echoing across the still waters. Nudging him playfully, you replied, "Maybe I had a good teacher." The playful banter was a reflection of the easy camaraderie that had developed between you, a testament to the countless hours spent learning and laughing together.

Theo's smile softened at your words, a tender expression that seemed to light up his face. His gaze lingered on you, the depth of his affection and pride evident in his eyes. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, each shared glance made your knees tremble. Like you were the only girl at Hogwarts.

"Maybe," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a warmth that enveloped you. "Or maybe you just have a knack for languages." His words were a gentle compliment, a recognition of your efforts and abilities.

The path around the Black Lake was peaceful, the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise mirror-like surface of the water. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. As you walked side by side, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the rest of the universe fading into the background.

Your footsteps synchronized, a silent dance of familiarity and comfort. The conversations flowed effortlessly, alternating between Italian lessons and shared dreams, each word weaving a tapestry of understanding and companionship. Theo's presence was a constant, steady and reassuring, his thoughtful insights and quiet encouragements a source of strength.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The twilight hues painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, a breathtaking sight that added to the magic of the moment. Theo's silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun was a picture of serenity and quiet strength, a reminder of the stability he brought into your life.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the Slytherin boy took a small step closer, closing the distance between you. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through your body. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up your arm.

In that moment, with the golden light of dusk casting a magical glow around you, Theo leaned in. His movements were deliberate, filled with a tender hesitation. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of pure, unadulterated connection.

The kiss was gentle at first, a soft press of lips that spoke everything you needed to know. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the gentle caress of his hand against your cheek — it all combined to create a sensation that was both exhilarating and deeply comforting.

Theo's hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. The kiss deepened, becoming more confident, more insistent. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The connection between you intensified, the kiss becoming a language of its own, expressing everything words couldn't.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of nature reasserting themselves around you. Theo's eyes, still holding that mix of affection and awe, met yours. A soft, contented smile played on his lips.

"Grazie, Theo," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude.

"For what?" he asked confused, his brow furrowing slightly.

"For being patient with me. For this. For . . . everything."

Theo's eyes softened, and he reached out, intertwining your fingers in one. "No worries," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I'm glad I could help."

[natimiles]

Are you here with me? (Jean x MC)

Summary: Those who had the first words with their soulmate marked on their body considered it both a blessing and a curse. For her, it was the latter. When she arrived at that strange mansion and realized Jean was her soulmate, he didn’t show a single reaction, and it hurt.

Words: 3676

Pairing: Jean x f!MC

Tags: soulmate au; soulmate’s first words mark; swearing; attempt at humor; happy ending; no kissing we die like Isaac; 

Crossposted on AO3

Those who had the first interaction with their soulmate marked on their body considered it both a blessing and a curse. It was nice to know when you met the love of your life, but sometimes it’d be better to keep it unknown. Some people had names, as if the soulmates were introducing themselves. Others had random phrases, like a light conversation about the weather, and some had swearings and weird things.

When MC turned 18, she stayed home all day. Wearing only her underwear, she checked herself in her bedroom mirror every 5 minutes, anxiously waiting to see if she’d get one and where it would be. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to be marked or not. Was it selfish to only want it if it was a good one? Like ‘hello, nice to meet you’ or ‘I hope we get along’. She hoped not to be something weird or bad, if she didn’t get something nice.

She was already giving up; it was almost midnight and nothing happened. Sighing, she went to put on her pajamas, and that’s when she saw it. The mark appeared on her left arm, going in one straight line until almost her wrist. She quickly sat on her bed to read it.

‘Why haven’t you fled? What is someone like you even doing in this place?’ 

Was she supposed to be happy? Well, it could be worse, but it also could be better. MC didn’t know if she should feel threatened or not. Would she be too awkward for the mysterious place? Or would said place be so dangerous that they were trying to get her out of there? Seemed like her soulmate was trying to make her run away. Would she be in danger when they meet? She hoped not; she wasn’t an adventurous person. Sighing for the nth time that day, she finally laid down to sleep. She’d have time until they met (probably), so she decided she’d do everything she could to understand under what possible circumstances they might say it to her.

xxx

When she arrived at that mansion, everything was confusing. Comte invited her to dinner, introducing some residents — all great historical figures — and explaining about the door. She was quite shocked when they told her they were vampires, all brought back by the pure-blood himself. Her first thought was to get up and run as fast as she could, but Comte’s soothing tone convinced her that she was safe there. They seemed like nice people, especially Vincent — completely opposite of his rude brother, by the way. And it helped to know Sebastian was human, so when she was offered a place elsewhere, she decided it wasn’t needed. She could stay there; it would only be a month, and then she’d be home. Nothing would happen.

Next morning, she woke up early, got ready as best as she could, and went to help Sebastian with breakfast. However, her steps stopped when she was in the middle of the hallway. MC saw someone hunched over there, seemingly feeling unwell.

“Are you ok?” She took a few steps closer. “You’re really pale! You’re Isaac, right?” She remembered him introducing himself.

“Get... me,” he muttered under his breath.

“What? I didn’t understand what-”

“Get away from me!” He said louder and went in her direction. She had no time to react; she was suddenly pinned against the wall. “Give me… your blood!”

“W-what?” She asked with an alarmed tone, her eyes wide. “I-Isaac, d-don’t…" 

He held her firmly by the shoulders and opened his mouth, looking at her neck with some kind of hunger in his eyes; that’s when she saw his fangs. It’d be better to get some help, considering Isaac was super strong, even though he was almost fainting less than a minute ago. MC took a deep breath, ready to scream from the top of her lungs and draw everyone’s attention and hopefully prevent herself from being bitten.

“Isaac, stop.” A commanding, firm voice sounded, and Isaac froze on his spot.

“W-what?” He sounded confused, letting go of her as if she had burned him and taking long steps back. “Jean…”

“Did you forget to drink your rouge?” The other man sighed. “Come on, let’s get you some.”

The men walked away, leaving her alone again. She stood there, frightened for a good minute before deciding what to do. Her legs took her to the dining room, where a few people she met the day before were.

“Are you ok, MC? Isaac just told us what happened.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you, Vincent,” she said with a smile, glad to remember who he was.

“I asked Theo to call Comte; he will check on you soon. Sebastian is brewing some tea to soothe you.”

Comte arrived in a few minutes, just like the other residents. He checked on MC and apologized for Isaac, explaining his situation. The conclusion was that Isaac spent the whole night awake and didn’t even realize he hadn’t drunk his rouge after dinner.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” he said with a smile. “I’m responsible for your safety, so you have my word that I’ll talk to Isaac later. He can’t be reckless while you’re here with us.”

“Don’t worry, everything is fine.” She waved her hands in the air. 

“It’s good Jean was around,” he smiled at her.

As if on cue, someone came from the kitchen. If she wasn’t mistaken, Isaac and Comte called him Jean… Was he Jean D’Arc? Comte mentioned him the night before. Now, taking a better look at his face, MC saw how beautiful he was. He must’ve sensed her staring because he turned to her with a frown.

“Why haven’t you fled? What is someone like you even doing in this place?” he said, catching her off guard.

“I came through the door by mistake…” MC scratched the back of her head, embarrassed. Jean wore a somewhat stern and stoic expression, leaving her feeling a bit self-conscious, uncertain about what he might be thinking of her. “I just thought about helping Isaac; I didn’t even think about-” she abruptly stopped talking. The shock of almost being bitten must have made her slower because she took some time to properly catch what he said. Widening her eyes, she took a few steps in his direction. “Wait, what did you just say?” Her voice sounded louder than she intended, and the residents stopped whatever they were doing to stare at them.

“Um… MC, I don’t think he meant it in a rude way,” Vincent said, sounding worried that a misunderstanding could begin.

“I-I… I just…” she stammered, her voice cracking a little. She couldn’t stop looking at Jean, and the vampire was starting to feel nervous and trapped.

She didn’t know what to do. Was she supposed to say something? But he didn’t say anything; maybe it’s a mistake? Was it really possible that her soulmate was in an entirely different country and century? Well, the country was okay, but the century? Maybe it was only a coincidence that he said the exact same thing as her mark.

“Sorry, I guess I didn’t understand clearly what you said. I didn’t think you were rude, and I didn’t mean to be either.” She forced a smile, her thoughts still running wild.

He gazed at her for a few more seconds, his expression unreadable, before turning around and quietly leaving the dining room.

xxx

It had been a whole week, and she was getting used to living there. She offered to help Sebastian during her stay because she didn’t want to be a lazy guest. Her days were filled with household tasks, and her nights were haunted by the mark. She’d stare at her own arm until she fell asleep, overthinking the whole thing with uncertainty gnawing at her. She had heard some people say that when soulmates acknowledge one another, their marks would feel warm. She didn’t feel anything, but she was sure he had said the exact words…

“Oh my, what has our little bird sighing so hard so early?” Arthur’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts as he entered the dining room earlier than anyone else, startling her a little.

“What?”

“Are you alright, luv?” He sat at his usual spot. “You look worried.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” she answered. Her voice didn’t fool him, and when she sighed again, he confirmed his suspicions that something was off.

He hummed, eyeing her up and down, and shot her a small smile. “You know, I’m really perceptive. Although it doesn’t take a highly observant person to see that something is bothering you.”

“Don’t disturb MC, Master Arthur,” Sebastian said as he came from the kitchen, bringing the trays of food for breakfast.

“It’s fine, Sebas. I’m just thinking about the door and my home,” she said, shrugging. She got Arthur’s coffee and put it in front of him.

“Mmmm, no, it’s not that,” he said, putting a finger on his chin, wondering. “You didn’t seem so distressed when you arrived. You were pretty calm even when we told you we’re vampires. It started later, maybe the next day? Care to share?”

“It’s nothing, really… I guess,” she bit her lip anxiously. He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms, making her aware that he knew it wasn’t nothing. Sebastian only glanced at Arthur, as a warning not to disturb her anymore. But she sighed in defeat. “Ok, fine.” Taking a deep breath, she closed and opened her eyes, gazing straight into his eyes. “You two know about soulmates?”

“Yes,” they said, nodding. Now that she was willing to talk, Sebastian was genuinely interested in knowing. He had noticed she was worried about something, but when he asked, she just said it was nothing, and he didn’t want to pressure her into sharing feelings when she clearly didn’t want to.

“I have my soulmate’s first words to me marked on my arm. But he… He didn’t say anything about it, so… I don’t know if I’m wrong or if he didn’t like me. Is it possible for soulmates not to like each other once they meet?”

“I don’t think so…” Sebastian pondered. “I think some may take more time to understand and sort out their feelings, but it’s not possible for them not to like each other. Isn’t the whole purpose exactly to make them be together? I don’t think it changed over time; it’s the same in the future and here.”

“I suppose…”

“So, want us to help you with Jean?” Arthur asked.

“W-what? Who told you…?” she stammered in panic, her eyes wide.

The writer laughed as she stumbled for words. “Perceptive and smart, luv,” he said, tapping his index finger on his head to make a point. “You acted really weird when Jean talked to you.” She opened her mouth to debate but decided not to. He was right; she acted weird, and the vampire ran away from her. “Can we see it?”

She nodded and finally rolled her sleeve up. “It’s really what he said, right? I was wondering if maybe I remembered it wrong…”

“I don’t recall his exact words, but I guess that was it,” Sebastian said.

“Now, want to know another fact that made me realize it’s Jean?” Arthur asked with a mischievous tone. She didn’t know if she wanted to know or not but nodded before thinking too much. “Jean can’t read.”

Silence.

“What?” she asked, her voice too loud. 

Arthur laughed, amused at her honest reactions. “He doesn’t know how to write or read. Even if he ever saw the mark on his body, he wouldn’t know what it is. I highly doubt he’d ask anyone what was written. You can try asking Mozart, but I think he wouldn’t know about it either.”

“And you’d have to actually talk to Mozart to ask him something,” Theo said, entering the door. “Please, let me see-” he was about to tease her on how the musician was always rude to her, but then he looked at her arm and stopped abruptly. His eyes snapped back at her face.

“Ow, Theo, why did you stop walking?” Vincent asked from behind his brother, taking a step to the side. He looked at her and smiled. “Oh!”

“Great,” she muttered. MC was trying to be discreet, and now it’d be impossible not to talk about it.

“Good…” Isaac entered the room greeting whoever was already there, but he also saw her arm and stumbled with his words. “... morning?!”

And talk about it she would. Apparently, it was really hard to keep a secret in a mansion full of nosy vampires.

Before she knew it, everyone was gathered in the dining room. Whenever someone entered the room, they’d see the strange activity around her and ask what was happening. After having to tell the same thing three times in a row, MC was already tired of all this. But, of course, Arthur had the "bestest" idea for her to tell everything only once more. Those who weren’t morning people were awakened by him to go as soon as possible to the dining room for an urgent meeting.

“Ok, now everyone’s here. You can tell them what happened, luv,” Arthur announced.

“Why am I even doing this again?” She sighed loudly.

“Because we can help you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“And because they’re all too nosy,” Sebastian whispered behind her, meant only for her ears.

“Fine. Here’s the deal…”

She showed her arm and told everything one last time. They were all looking at each other the whole time, searching who might be her other half, and she thought it was kinda funny. When she finally revealed who was supposed to be her soulmate, everyone gaped at her, and Mozart choked on his own blanc.

“It’s a soulmate mark… with Jean?” Napoleon managed to ask, patting the musician on his back to help him breathe.

“Well, probably? We don’t even know if he has a mark either.”

“Jean wouldn’t know,” Mozart said quietly, still coughing a little. “He can’t read.”

“Yes, I know that now,” she huffed.

“He has to have his mark,” Comte said. “It appears on both soulmates, not only one.”

“It’s not in his arms,” Napoleon said, wondering where it could be. “We practice together sometimes, and I’ve seen him roll up his sleeves, but never saw anything there. Mozart, have you ever seen anything?”

“Mmm, we’ve been together in la thermae, and I never saw anything either,” the musician decided to try and help her too, for the sake of his friend. “However, every time I meet him, he’s already there, and I always leave before him.”

“So it’s in his back or his ribs down,” Arthur pondered. “Do you think-”

“No, we don’t,” Theo cut him off shortly, glaring at his friend.

“It doesn’t appear there, Master Arthur,” Sebastian said with a heavy sigh.

“Okay,” she said, trying to gather all the information she had in her mind. “So I know it’s real, but no one’s ever seen it, and we don’t even know where it is. I could try knocking on his door and talking to him myself, but… I don’t think he’d open the door for me,” she grimaced. “Or even believe in me.”

“But he’d open for a friend,” Theo looked at Mozart and Napoleon.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” the emperor said, shrugging.

“Should we go… now?” she asked, her anxiety barely at bay. “Is Jean even awake now?”

“I am,” a deep voice sounded from the door, startling everyone and making her flinch.

“Jean!” She looked back and saw him standing there, a confused look on his face. “H-hi!”

“We were about to go look for you!” Arthur said with a smile.

“Why?” The soldier narrowed his eyes. “I don’t wanna participate in whatever you’re doing.”

She tried to keep up with the little banter, but her mind was already elsewhere. She was openly staring at Jean, his eyepatch, his deep-purple eye that looked troubled, and his dark hair that seemed really soft to touch and thread her fingers through. His lean figure was always straight; he walked with both fierceness and grace, his hand resting on the hilt of his rapier as he was ready to battle at any time.

“What is it, mademoiselle?” he inquired, noting her obvious stare.

“S-sorry,” she apologized, turning her gaze down to the floor.

Arthur chuckled slyly. “I didn’t even have the time to properly meet our cute new guest, and Jean already stole her.”

“Huh? I haven’t stolen anyone,” Jean said, looking genuinely confused.

“Don’t listen to Arthur,” Napoleon said, sighing heavily. “Jean, do you have any kind of mark on your body?”

“That’s a strange and private question,” he frowned.

“MC has a soulmate mark,” Vincent said, trying to help. 

The soldier didn’t say anything, only tilted his head to the side. Everyone realized he was even more lost on the topic than they anticipated.

“Do you know what soulmates are, Master Jean?” Sebastian decided to intervene, starting with the very first question they should’ve asked from the beginning.

“No.”

“If I may,” Comte called out, and he calmly explained everything, aware that the chances of Jean even believing him were slim.

She extended her arm to show him, hoping to convey the sincerity in their words. Jean, however, remained stoic, staring at her as if processing the information. It took assurances from both Mozart and Napoleon before he began to entertain the idea that the soulmate story could be true.

“Ok,” he said, more confused now than before. “But why do I need to know about all this?”

“By Gods, this is physically hurtful,” Isaac mumbled under his breath.

“Jean, you have a soulmate mark too,” Arthur said, exasperated. “She has one for you, so you have to have one for her. Tell us where it is, before we all die again, and then we can move on with our lives!”

There was a whole minute of silence. She flitted her gaze back to the soldier, and startled when she found him staring at her. His eye wavered; he didn’t know what to do. Arthur wasn’t the most trustworthy person he knew, but everyone was looking expectantly at him. He glanced at Mozart, and his friend nodded, confirming once again that they were telling the truth.

“Jean,” she finally said something directly to him. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do this.” She tried to sound calm. Arthur clearly lost his patience, and she was a little afraid that the soldier would either run away or fight him in the middle of the dining room. “We can just forget it if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She sounded hurt, and it made him narrow his face. Why did it bother him? He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, weighing in his head if it really was worthy. But the tug in his heart wasn’t a good feeling and he wanted it to stop. Something in the back of his brain said it’d only stop if he resolved this issue as soon as possible. Without saying a word, he sat down on one of the chairs and began taking off his boot. Everyone looked puzzled.

“My right leg,” he said simply. “It appeared when I was revived. I thought it was something related to being a vampire.”

No one dared say a word; they just waited. When Jean finally rolled up his pants, they saw it. On the outer side of his right leg, starting at his ankle and going up, there were her first words to him. He looked up, expecting someone to read them for him.

“I came through the door by mistake,” Napoleon did it.

Everyone saw it, she saw it. It was real. It was really there. She finally felt that warm feeling; it was like putting a really hot compress on her mark, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt like… home. Her eyes met Jean’s, and his stoic expression wasn’t there anymore. He was a little flushed, staring so intently at her, his mouth slightly agape, and his breath hitched in his throat. His fingers were grabbing the fabric of his pants in such a tight grip that his knuckles were white. He felt it too; the warm and cozy feeling starting on his mark and enveloping his whole body.

“Should we leave?” Dazai asked, failing to whisper so she and Jean wouldn’t hear him.

“No, don’t worry,” Jean said. He recomposed himself the best he could to put his boot back on.

“Uh, y-yeah, please, stay and have your breakfast,” she tried to sound calm and polite, but it sounded strained. Apparently he didn’t want to talk or anything. “I’m gonna get everyone’s coffee and-”

“We will leave.” She was cut mid-sentence with Jean in front of her, offering his hand for her to hold. He even bowed a little, looking like a prince from the movies she’s always seen. She blushed, but carefully placed her hand above his.

His lip tugged a little on the side, so discreet that she almost missed his timid and tiny smile. He squeezed her hand and guided her outside. Jean was clueless most of the time, but even he understood that what they needed was a little peace and privacy. In the garden, they settled into the gazebo, hands still together, fingers slowly intertwining.

His mind was running wild; he still thought he shouldn’t be there or that he didn’t deserve this happy feeling. However, her mere presence by his side made his heart strangely calm for the first time in his two lives. He decided to hold onto it. It would take a lot of talking, a lot of understanding, and a lot of quality time together, but he could already see himself warming up to her.

And when he finally felt brave and worthy enough to kiss her, she’d know it was all worth it.

Title from On Melancholy Hill by Gorillaz

Soulmates are for life. Since Jean didn’t have one in his first life, it makes sense (for me) that his mark appeared only in his second life, when he would meet MC. 

And I made them in the places that would be the reason they met. Her arm, because that’s what she used to open the door to the mansion (it was technically her hand, but you got me). His leg, because his death was what brought him there (it’s kind of Comte’s “fault” he’s in the mansion, but you got me #2).

I’ll be making lots of soulmates au with lots of suitors (but probably not all of them, sorry).

Masterlists

[callmewrinkles3]

Headcanons

Most of these are thanks to the questions from the wonderful @magical-imagination-kgp. If anyone else wants headcanons about Em, Dan, or a point in their relationship feel free to ask!

Em cannot tell if someone’s flirting with her. At all. Dan has pointed out more than once that someone flirted with her in front of him. But when she’s watching a girl flirt with Dan? Oh then she can tell.

Before Dan starts spending the night with her every morning involves instant coffee, and it’s whatever was on special when she went grocery shopping. Once he’s there most of the time he insists on real coffee - and calls it that. He picks up a moka pot for most mornings, but if they’re running late it’s a Nespresso machine in a cabinet that they’ll pull out. Dan’s always the one who makes her coffee in the morning, he gets up first. It’s more milk than coffee with two pumps of caramel syrup, and the constant threat of “I swear, I won’t sleep with you for a week if you use oat milk for mine!”. He doesn’t dare.

She doesn’t have any things she consciously does when she gets dressed. After she gets her underwear on she’ll brush her teeth and wash her face and then get dressed. Everything goes on right side first - her right arm, her right leg, her right shoe and sock.

The way they do chores depends on where they are and what time it is. When they spend some of the winter break in Perth it’s pretty much 50/50, and it’s the same when they settle for good at the farm. If it’s during the season everything tends to fall to Em though. She’s the one cooking because Dan can only cook breakfast, but she deliberately tries to do everything else so he can focus on driving. She wants to make sure he doesn’t have to worry about anything apart from driving and his work. He always insists on loading the dishwasher and he makes breakfast for them. Grocery shopping is usually online and Dan puts it away, but while he’s still racing Em does the rest of them. 

She loves driving. Usually she’ll drive to the circuits unless it’s somewhere that it’s better for Blake to do the driving. If she and Dan are going somewhere she drives 90% of the time, he’d rather chill out and choose the music and stare at her as she drives. She is not a fan of driving his sports cars though. If she absolutely has to she will, but she’d rather something that doesn’t attract attention the same way a blue McLaren does. She didn’t learn to drive until she finished uni, and never bought a car until 2022, but she’s good at it and enjoys it. And she’s so much better at parking than Daniel. So much better. There has been teasing.

When it comes to books Em is a romance novel kind of girlie. Any crappy Kindle Unlimited tropey romance novel makes her happy. Novels in general are her thing, as long as it’s something with a happy ending and not too grim. Historical fiction and fluffy stuff are her go to. Apart from that she loves anything about art, history, comic books or graphic novels. She’d much rather her true crime on TV or in podcast form than in a book.

In case you couldn’t tell, she’s a Swiftie. Taylor is constantly top of her Spotify Wrapped, and she’s proud to call herself a swemo. Apart from Taylor it’s pop punk and classic rock. Dan got her into country but she’s not the biggest fan (although she has been known to scream sing the chorus to Penthouse by Kelsey Ballerini). She’s always more than ok with whatever he puts on the speaker, if it makes him happy then she’s happy (and if she’s really not a fan she’ll put in her earplugs, but that rarely happens).

Em doesn’t watch a lot of TV, all their travel means keeping up with shows is hard. She’s like Dan and finds the news too stressful, so she keeps BBC News and ABC News push notifications on her phone to keep up with big stories, but that’s it. Her favourite show is Criminal Minds, and between that, whatever police procedural she finds a rerun of on tv, and true crime documentaries that’s her usual TV consumption. Does Dan think it’s a bit creepy? Yes. Did he end up loving Criminal Minds too? Also yes. Em ingests a ridiculous amount of knowledge from her documentaries, more than once she can cite exactly what case they’re pulling from the headlines in a tv show. Whatever random comedy Dan’s started watching she’ll watch too.

She rarely turns on the main light on her bedroom. She has fairy lights and her nightstand lamp, and those are normally the ones on. If she needs to look for something then she will turn the other light on, and she has a lightbulb that you can change color with a phone app.

Em is really, really sensitive to textures. Everything needs to be soft or it makes her feel like she’s crawling out of her skin. Whenever Dan’s buying clothes he always asks her if she likes what he’s looking at, and he doesn’t just mean the look but how it feels. When they were finding suppliers for Ric3 they had to go through the Emmy test to make sure that she was comfortable in them. She normally is at least curled up against his clothes, if not stealing his hoodies, so if they don’t feel right then he’s not getting them. Fabrics that are an immediate no are polyester and velvet and silk. Anything that’s cosy and kind of brushed cotton or leggings type material she’ll always approve of. She also loves shiny clothes, but that’s usually because she’ll wear a thin shirt underneath just to make sure it feels good. Dan always jokes, saying she’s shining on her own and that she looks gorgeous whether she’s wearing them or nothing at all.

She loves flowers. They’re one of her favourite things. When Dan’s away at races before she’s travelling with him all the time he sends her bouquets so she’ll smile. At least one from every arrangement gets pressed so she can keep them, and she has a huge box with them in it. She doesn’t have a favourite one, she loves the symbolism behind them more than the look of them..

Em has a ton of tattoos. So many of them. She’s the person with all the tiny little ones, apart from two big ones. Each of them tells a story, but here’s the list. The Kiss by Klimt in line art on her thigh, the number 3 on her wrist, a planchette with a tiny 13 in the centre of it on her inner arm. A teeny tiny heart between her boobs, and she got the letter D on top of it. “Baby girl” written very small. Their wedding anniversary on her ring finger. A snake around her ankle. The quote “Long story short I survived” across her collarbones. A line of flowers from the top to the bottom of her spine. The first time each of her babies wrote “Mama” she got it tattooed as soon as she could. She has so many tattoos because of Dan. A sun, he wrote “I love you” on her foot and she decided to make it permanent. Two teeny tiny hearts drawn by Isaac and Isabella. She and her three Australians have a peppermint leaf tattooed on them. Over time she got the name of their kids tattooed. She also has a bouquet with birth flowers from the months she, Dan, and the kids were born. After she and Dan got back together they got the outline of the Monaco circuit on their ribs. One night when they were ridiculously drunk they did stick and pokes of a tiny messy heart on each other’s hips and they both love them so much.

[triflesandparsnips]

So, like, if we're really going to go Full On Xena here and decide that historical accuracy is for squares--

About like a hundred years after OFMD is set there's this whole... thing. With men and their stockings. Which, as we know, are form fitting, and can therefore show off calves to their utmost advantage-- or lack thereof.

So some dudes at the time apparently felt the need to... supplement their calves. With falsies.

Calf falsies.

So it would, to me, be very funny if Ed sort of, like, notes early on that Stede has surprisingly defined calves for somebody who's swanning around dressed (and presumably as well-exercised) as the most uppercrust of indolent dandies.

And he doesn't say anything to Stede because, well-- listen, he's ransacked enough rich men's underwear drawers to know that falsies exist, and if Stede feels the need for enhancements then it's no skin off Ed's nose one way or the other. And anyway, they're spending most of their days in one another's company, so it'll become obvious sooner or later, right?

Right.

So no need to ask Stede about it. No need to, say, seat himself just below Stede during the evening storytelling at an angle that might let him check for the telltale bump of knotted ties beneath his stockings. No need to wonder at all, really, at any time, about Stede's calves, and knees, and the expensive knitted silk rolled up and over them, tucked every single day just as tight as you please under the band of his damn-near painted-on satin breeches.

There's absolutely no call for it because, eventually, Stede will slip. He'll forget himself, just for a moment, and then Ed will know and that'll be that. Accidents happen all the time on shipboard, that's just the way of it. No need to rush things along at all.

For instance, maybe one day Stede'll step into something foul and feel the need to strip off his stocking. Could happen to anybody. Practically a daily occurrence. But Stede, he probably wouldn't want to wait around in the muck, he'd probably have to take it off immediately, right where he's standing, just unbutton the band at his knee and get his fingers under it so he can find the stocking's welt, feel it out all careful as can be so he doesn't catch against the delicate silk and snag it beyond repair-- but it'd be easy enough for Stede, what with all the practice he's had dressing and undressing on his own now, easy for him to hook his fingers into the stocking and ease it out, roll it down, finally flash his plumpers and show where they ended and he began and--

Or maybe, Ed thinks with some feverishness, maybe like, maybe he'll ask Ed to stay after breakfast, to keep talking while Stede just changes for the day, and he'll keep the door to the closet open, not to tease but just to let their voices through, all normal, all fine, but god knows Stede loves his mirrors, and there's one that Ed is absolutely positive would-- if only Stede would stand just so and leave the door open just enough-- would in fact yield the reflection of Stede setting his clean, bare heel on one of the closet's little embroidered footstools, finally unclothed but for pale hair and pale skin and the dips and faint hollows where the bone would show shadowed in morning candlelight and half miraged in mirror view-- and then Ed would finally see, he'd finally have fucking proof that Stede didn't have that cut of muscle curving firm and palm-sized at his calf, that it was all cotton pads and careful knots and a rich man's brand of fuckery to capture a strength he didn't have, didn't really need to be honest, Stede was strong enough, alive enough in these hellish waters that he didn't need to prove anything to anyone, alive or dead, and so if Stede would just tell him, just slip one damned time so Ed could finally decide whether he wanted to burn the damn things or tie them on as sweetly as Stede needed or, or-- or--

...Which is how, about a month into their voyage together, when Stede does, in fact, invite Ed to stay after breakfast, and to keep talking while he changes, and he asks Ed if he minds him leaving the door open a little but, heh, not to worry, he moved the mirror into the bed nook just that morning, so no need to fear any "stark revelations," heh, d'ya get it Ed, like that time, and of course "starkers," classic punnery--

--only to hear the abrupt sounds of what seem to be, in order:

Stede's quite expensive dining table: flipped

his delightfully matched morning dishware: shattered

a non-zero number of his cleverly carpentered cabinet drawers: yanked from their moorings, dashed to the floor

what he now suspects to be, embarrassingly enough, his unmentionables: tossed, thrown, riffled through, and probably wrinkling

and one extremely irate pirate: thumping through it all while swearing very, very loudly that he intends to "find the buggery fucking fucks so help me fucking Christ--"

And Stede decides that Ed needs a moment, so he'll just go ahead and close the door and get finished dressing on his own before he ventures out to see just how accurate his guesses were.

[sugar-petals]

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching. 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Guessings! hunger, underwear, mushroom!

Here It became stuck- It’s roots were much deeper here, much less willing to let go and undo It’s work, but the flame’s hunger was insatiable, and the Parasite burned and burned and burned away until It could tear Itself apart.

--

There is currently No Underwear in this chapter.

---

“Bakura expressed an interest in being used as a breakfast tray, which is an act with historical precedence!” Yami explained cheerfully. “He also picked some very nice mushrooms.”

And some more Zero Braincells Chicanery.

[reolf]

How much research do you usually do when you're writing?

Heey there,

Thank you for sending me an ask! ❤️

I do quite a lot of research for my writing. That goes to the littlest details people wouldn't care about probably, but in my head it needs to be correct. Especially historical settings. Like the breakfast scene in Pompeii, I went to look what Romans could eat for breakfast and put most of it on the table since they are rich. Gladiator weapons and armor. Female clothing ( and underwear for a future chapter 😝). Jewelry. Political positions. Roman Laws. I love the research! It helps me to inspire and motivate myself.

[purplesurveys]

1274

Department One: Apparel And Jewelry

What are you wearing today?  Just a white duster dress. Very loungewear-y, hahaha. I didn’t feel like wearing shorts today.

What does your favorite shirt look like?  At the moment I’m obsessed with my Vante shirt. It’s fanmade but it was made tastefully; the designs aren’t too loud and I love the cute little shoutouts and tributes to his past paintings, so it had been a ridiculously easy decision for me to want to buy it.

What kind of underwear do you prefer wearing?  Eh I don’t really have a preference as long as I don’t find them uncomfy.

What are your favorite kind of jeans?  I’m definitely still stuck in my mom jeans phase. Idk man, I just love how they match nearly all kinds of tops.

What do the last pair of shoes you wore look like?  They were adidas sneakers. Not a big fan of chunky shoes but it’s an Ivy Park and it was on a big discount HAHAHA so I didn’t hesitate to get them.

How many shoes do you own?  A little more than 10. I love shoes and wanna collect them someday...just not today, hahaha.

How much jewelry do you own?  Not too big on jewelry; most, if not all the ones I wear are just borrowed from my mom since we share the same style anyway.

Do you own any real diamonds or other expensive jewelry?  Yeah, the ones I would borrow from my mom are pretty pricey.

Has anyone ever gave you jewelry as a present?  Yes, I received rings and necklaces from my ex. One of my aunts also gave me a necklace when I turned 7.

Do you like diamonds or gemstones better?  I just stick with diamonds...which is...also a gemstone too, if I’m not mistaken.

Silver or gold?  Silver.

Department Two: Electronics

Do you have a DVD player in your car?  Not in mine, but we do have one in the family car. I used to watch movies on there often but after one grueling road trip where my motion sickness acted up, I haven’t wanted to use it since.

If you have one, what does your camera/camcorder look like?  I just use the camera in my phone but back in the day I used to have a DSLR; that was when I thought I wanted to take up photography, heh. It was a Nikon D3100.

How much did it cost?  I’m not sure since my dad gave it to me as a present, but a quick search told me it would’ve cost him around P20,000 which issssss wow more expensive than I thought.

What kind of cellphone do you have?  I have an iPhone 8 with an LCD screen that’s deteriorating by the day HAHA. I really need to get a new phone.

How often do you send texts?  I text just for work purposes now, so it really depends on how busy my accounts are. Some days would require me to send out more texts than usual.

Do you have your own computer or does your family share?  I have my own laptop. My workplace also provided me with what’s supposed to be my work laptop, but they had it sent to me when I was already a couple of months into my job and all my needed files and programs were already in my personal laptop. Since I was too lazy to start everything all over again, I’ve never actually used the work laptop haha.

How many computers are in your house?  We have three laptops in total - my siblings and I each have our own. Kind of a necessity these days.

Do you still have a VCR?  I don’t think so.

How many DVDs do you own?  We probably have around 30-50 but most of them are movies from like the 2000s that we just haven’t thrown out. Personally, I have about five DVDs of old films like Gone with the Wind, Rebel Without A Cause, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, etc, and recently I’ve been buying BTS merch so DVDs are part of that mix too.

Does your car have a GPS?  No. I use Waze on my phone instead.

What kind of iPod/MP3 player do you have? Haven’t used an iPod in like a literal decade. I use Spotify for my music.

How many songs are on it?  Spotify doesn’t work that way since it’s technically a database of songs.

What size is your TV?  Never bothered to ask/check.

How many TVs are in your house?  Four. Living room, dining room, master bedroom, my brother’s room.

What video game systems do you have?  We have a PS3 and PS4. 

What about handhelds?  Switch. I believe my sister also still has her DSi stored somewhere.

How many video games do you have?  Probably somewhere around 50-60. My dad and brother are content with repeating their games lol.

Department Three: Home

What kind of shampoo do you use?  It’s a Dove variant but I’m just blanking out on the specific name/what it does.

Soap or shower gel?  Shower gel.

What does your comforter look like?  It’s pretty colorful and has geometric shapes and lines.

Does it match your pillows?  Yep, they come in a set.

What size is your bed?  Twin.

Do you or your parents like to decorate the house with various things or is it plain?  My mom puts considerable effort in decorating the house but it’s nothing overboard that it feels tacky. There’s enough decor in enough spaces.

Does the furniture in your house match?  Sure. I imagine my mom would be very irritated if she felt something was uncoordinated at home.

What does your couch look like?  It’s a gray L-shaped couch. Gabie broke a portion of the couch’s springs when it had only spent its like first two weeks at home but surprisingly my mom has not noticed it yet; probably because she barely sits on that side.

How many does your dining room/kitchen table seat?  It has six chairs, though since we’re five one of the chairs is almost always unoccupied.

Do you have any fancy china?  No, my mom isn’t the type to collect those.

Do you have outside furniture?  Yeah we have a table and chairs up on the rooftop, if they count.

What do your curtains look like?  My siblings and I have pull-down blinds. The other rooms have these pulled-back gold curtains that’s accompanied by white sheers.

Department Four: Grocery

What kind of bread do you get?  Sliced white bread, always. Sometimes my mom will pick up pan de sal, but she gets those from a certain bakery and no longer the grocery.

What is your favorite kind of cake?  CHEEEEEEEEEESECAAAAAAAKE.

Do you get a lot of sweets from the grocery store?  Eh, nah. Not a big fan of sweets.

What kind of soda is your favorite?  Don’t like soda.

Do you drink juice? What kind?  I can take it or leave it. I wouldn’t buy it for myself.

What is your favorite chewing gum?  Doesn’t matter to me. The flavors last for only like a minute anyway.

Do you usually get candy from the check-out aisle?  Nah. Those are far more accessible so who knows who could’ve touched or tampered with them. Plus, I mentioned I don’t like sweets.

What is your favorite soup?  Miso or cream of mushroom.

Have you ever had soup when you were sick?  No. I don’t enjoy hot beverages/liquids very much so I doubt I would feel comfort from soup when I’m sick.

What are your favorite canned vegetables?  Not sure if it’s a cultural difference thing but canned vegetables kind of sound gross and I don’t think I’ve encountered those (I actually had to look it up lol). My parents always buy fruits and veggies as is.

What do you eat for breakfast?  Fried rice is a constant but my mom switches up the set of viands every time. Some of the meals she serves would be hotdogs, eggs (either scrambled, omelette, fried, or sunny-side up), corned beef, dried fish, hashbrowns, luncheon meat, tapa, and Vienna sausages. Poptarts or toaster strudels?  Poptarts. I’ve never had toaster strudel and I’m honestly not sure what that is.

What salad dressing do you prefer?  Spicy mayo.

Ketchup, mayonnaise, or mustard?  MAYONNAISE. I can live without the other two.

What kind of cookie do you like best?  I only ever eat chocolate chip.

What kind of snacks do you get at the grocery store?  Salted egg chips or Pringles. Not a big fan of snacks either. This survey is making me realize I’m way more into full meals than anything else.

Do you get the meat from the deli?  Er, we don’t have delis here. Too fancy a concept lmao. If we have them, they are most likely in those extremely upscale, boujee neighborhoods.

What is your favorite frozen dinner?  I mean my dad buys frozen meat, fish, etc, but the frozen dinner sets that I see in American culture, which I’m guessing is what’s being referred to in this question, are not common here.

Do you prefer frozen dinners to actual cooking?  I honestly can’t imagine how it’s filling, but then again I’ve never tried it. Personally, food made from scratch is still the best.

What is your favorite kind of pasta?  Fettuccine.

Do you eat meat? And if not, do you eat vegetarian meat?  Yes, I eat meat. I get vegan options if they’re accessible and affordable, but those choices are hard to come by here.

What is your favorite fruit?  Avocado is really the only one I’ll give a pass to. Everything else tastes horrible.

What about vegetable?  Broccoli, bell peppers, green beans.

Department Five: Health And Beauty

What kind of makeup do you normally use?  None. If I absolutely have to put on makeup, I will begrudgingly put on foundation, maybe some eyeliner, and lip gloss. And they will all most likely be borrowed from my sister.

Do you wear more makeup on special events?  Not necessarily.

What is your favorite makeup brand?  I wouldn’t be the right person to ask because I would just say none of them.

Do you use any acne products?  Mmm no, I just splash water on my face, really. I actually got into a conversation about skincare with my co-workers yesterday and besides the usual shocked experessions I get when people find out I don’t use products, they recommended I at least get moisturizer and sunscreen. Idk, let’s see but historically it’s been hard to convince me to invest in skincare haha.

What kind of perfume do you use?  I have one of Beyoncé’s perfumes, Heat Rush. I don���t actually know if that’s still in production but it’s been my staple for like a decade or so now.

Have you ever been on a diet?  No. I never really had to be on one.

What products do you use in your hair?  Shampoo and conditioner.

How often do you brush your hair?  Only when I have to leave the house or have an important virtual work meeting.

What do you take when you have an upset stomach?  Nothing. The toilet usually solves that for me lol.

Do you take any prescription medicine? Nope.

Department Six: Movies, Music, And Books

What is your favorite movie of all time?  It’s been Two for the Road for a solid nine years and it doesn’t look like anything’s on its way to dethroning it anytime soon.

What genre of movie do like best?  Drama. The more realistic it is, the better.

What was the last movie you watched?  It’s a Korean film called Be With You. I liked it and I cried waterfalls, but the ending was so rushed it was kind of disappointing.

What was the last movie you purchased?  I don’t buy movies. If I wanted to see a film I’ll check if Netflix has it, then if they don’t I just try to scour one of those illegal movie streaming sites that always happen to have thousands of pornographic ads hahaha.

What is your all time favorite band? Paramore. Do you still buy CDs?  Only from artists I’m an extremely huge fan of. Right now that would be BTS, so I’m catching up on all the albums they’ve released in the last eight years.

What was the last CD you bought?  I got the Butter album set, if that counts. If it doesn’t, the last full-length album I purchased was Dark & Wild.

What was the last song you listened to?  I think it was Permission To Dance.

What is your favorite book?  I haven’t found it yet.

Do you even like reading?  I used to love it a lot more, to the point that back in grade school I was known as always having a book in my hand. I just don’t know where that passion went.

How often do you read?  Nearly never. I mean...I do read fanfics, I guess; but I won’t count those.

Department Seven: Sports And Fitness

Do you own a bike/scooter/skateboard/etc.?  We do have a bike at home, but that doesn’t mean I know how to ride it. We don’t have the other two.

How old were you when you learned to ride a bike w/o training wheels?  I still don’t know how to last on a bike without training wheels heheh.

Have you ever been camping?  Nah.

How often do you work out?  Nope but at work my boss just started another fitness challenge, so I’ll probably have to get back on working out soon just because I would want to accomplish the challenge.

Are you in good shape?  Sure, I think so. I’m not like fit fit because I neveeer exercise haha, but I also don’t make it a point to constantly eat unhealthy foods or have an unhealthy lifestyle to the point that it affects my body.

Do you go to a gym?  I do not. I thought of getting a membership at the start of the year but I’m glad I didn’t push through with it because all the gyms are still closed anyway.

Have you ever been fishing?  No. Idk if it’s my kind of pastime or not.

Have you ever been on a boat?  Yeah. My country has like 7000 islands so I was bound to get on a boat at some point in my life haha.

Can you play golf?  Never seemed interesting to me so no. Even on Wii Sports I barely picked golf.

Ever rode on a golf cart?  Yeah, in resorts where we had to ride them to be taken to our room.

Would you ever go hunting?  That’s an easy no.

What is your favorite sport?  Pro wrestling or table tennis.

Ever played on a sports team?  No, my school didn’t have a table tennis varsity.

Department Eight: Toys

What was your favorite toy as a child?  Cash registers because I liked the buttons. Also Play-Doh sets that had those contraptions that would squirt out the clay in various shapes.

Do you still play with toys?  Well, no.

Do you collect any toys?  I don’t, but I’m not opposed to start buying Funko Pop figurines of people or characters I’m interested in.

Did you ever have building blocks?  Sure, but I was never creative enough for them.

Did you play with dolls?  No.

Barbies or Bratz? Which were better?  BRATZZZZZZ

What is your favorite board game?  Scrabble.

Do you like to do arts and crafts?  Hell no.

Do you think that kids now have it better than when you were young? For sure, but isn’t that kind of the goal?

[badassindistress]

It is done and it is glorious!

This is a 1901 skirt for a promenade dress with added lace. I still have lace left over, so I may go back and add even more...

[rosesutherlandwrites]

Historical underwear breakfast time with @badassindistress feels like just the cleverest idea anyone has ever had

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 103

~*~Sebastian~*~

I opened my eyes with absolutely no idea of the time. My head was pounding. Jet lag fucking sucks. Maybe a hangover? Fuck. Either way. I turned my head, knowing what I'd find beside me. Not what. Who.

I rolled to my side, propping my head on my hand, and running my other from Emma’s shoulder down to rest on her lower back. Tracing her soft curves made me smile. Her skin felt good under my hand. Warm and silken. I left my hand to rest on the slope leading to her ass and felt the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. She's facing away from me with her hair over the pillow. If I lean closer, I can smell traces of her perfume leftover from last night.

Last night. Without a doubt, was the best homecoming of my almost thirty-seven years. There'd been some good ones. A house full of friends and copious amounts of cocaine, a quiet dinner for two, and frantic sex. There'd been just as many bad ones. A fight about how she hadn't heard from me enough, the time I arrived at her place to find she wasn't alone, but the worst was coming home to an empty apartment with nothing but a long-separated jar of peanut butter to eat and no one waiting for me to show up. I may have had a great time shooting, had a friend with me most of the time, and had a local hookup for sex, but coming home to no one was hard. I like being part of a couple. Having someone to call mine. I know, I know, emotional availability. I said I like it, not that I'm good at it.

Historically, anyway.

Emma. I'm good at this. I'm not perfect. I'm going to fuck up. She's going to fuck up. There will be fights and times when it's hard. But this relationship is what I've worked for, what I’ve wanted. The feeling part. The butterflies in the stomach, heart beating so fast, hard to breathe, smiling so big my face hurts feeling. In my wildest dreams I never imagined I'd end up with a volleyball playing, daughter of a rock star, first grade teacher. But, here I am.

I'm going to wake her up.

I scooted closer where the line of my body touched hers. I slid my hand from her back to her hip and placed a wet kiss on her shoulder. "Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

I made room for her to roll over, letting my hand skim over her skin. She didn't open her eyes until she was settled. The first thing her gorgeous green eyes saw was me. "Good morning."

I laid my face in the hand she reached out for me. Her thumb stroked under my eye. "Jet lag and a wine hangover?"

I stuck out my lip in a pout and nodded. Emma responded as I'd hoped by putting her lips around my pouty one and swiping her tongue over. It didn’t make me feel better, but I enjoyed it anyway. "I need water and coffee." I growled. "Corner coffee shop. I used the last of the fake creamer last time."

Emma smiled and kissed me, "We have cream, yogurt, and some fruit. Oh, and salted caramel and almond ice cream."

"You absolute beauty. You are the best."

She smiled, "I covered breakfast."

"And ice cream." I really needed coffee. I kissed her again, got out of bed, and found my underwear before heading to the kitchen. "I'll start the coffee."

I was a little afraid to open my fridge. I hadn't thrown away shit before I left. I usually remembered. I hated coming home to the awful smell of rotten things. I started my coffee and braced myself before opening the fridge. Braced for nothing. Oh wait, Emma bought cream and yogurt. She would have tossed the rotten stuff. I cringed with a laugh and thought better her than me. Emma came into the kitchen wearing my shirt from yesterday. "Sorry about whatever was disgusting when you got here."

"I cleared out everything when I got back from Paris. Restocked when Olivia and I were here. I bought flour. You didn't have flour."

"I don't know what to do with flour."

"I can make biscuits with flour."

"Yum." I switched out my cup for hers and put in a pod of her favorite Hawaiian blend. I'd downed some Advil and a good twenty-four ounces of water. I was already feeling better. "How about a run ending with breakfast? Maybe a movie?"

"Sounds good. We'll figure out dinner later."

"If all else fails you can make biscuits."

I didn’t mind dropping my pace a little for my running partner. She liked to turn down random streets which kept things interesting if not a little dangerous. We got back home safe and sound with a take out order from a restaurant a block away. I got the plates and silverware while Emma unpacked the bag. Chicken sausage, fried egg on toast, and breakfast potatoes hit the spot and wiped away the last traces of my jet lag hangover.

Emma stuck to scrambled eggs and crusty bread that she ate with the cheese I'd smuggled home. Her eyes rolled back on her first bite, "Mmm, there is something about French cheese." She pulled on my shorts to bring me closer and kissed me. "Thank you for smuggling it in for me."

I smiled, "Anytime you're not with me I'll steal cheese for you."

"What shall I steal for you?"

"Pecan pralines from where ever they come from. Someone brought them to set."

"River City Sweets in Savannah. Down on the Riverwalk. There's one in the airport too. That might be Savannah Candy Kitchen."

“I love those things. The chalky ones, not the ones like peanut brittle."

"They're delicious, I should learn how to make them. I do love Savannah. In Charlestown, they ask what’s your daddy do? In Atlanta, where'd you go to college? And in Savannah, they ask what you’d like to drink?"

I laughed, "That sounds like a fun place."

"Open carry, haunted places, gingerbread houses, and incredible cemeteries."

"Explain the cemetery thing to me. That death-looking thing scared the shit of me."

She put her hand on my arm, "I find them peaceful. They are orderly with well-trimmed paths, and landscaping. The old ones have amazing monuments and stories. Dad doesn’t like them. He says they’re creepy and full of death. I think they’re beautiful and full of lives well spent."

"I like your version better. I don’t know if I'd like to wander in one or not. Or where to find one." Cemeteries were nothing I’d considered seeking out.

"Every town has listings for historic cemeteries. There’s a small family cemetery in the Target parking lot in Beacon."

I was surprised, "The Target we went to?"

Emma nodded, "It's surrounded by bushes with one small opening. You'd never suspect it was there. A couple of times a year volunteer group goes around cleaning up the less cared for places. I go out with a weed eater and gloves to clean off the vines growing on the headstones. Next time, do you want to go?"

"I would. If I’m here. Sorry. I don’t know where I'll be."

"No need to apologize. I won't be visiting a children’s hospital with you when school is in."

"Visiting sick kids isn’t so different than visiting cemeteries."

Emma laughed loudly, "I wouldn't tell the hospital or parents that."

I realized what I'd said and laughed too. "I meant the sad and happy parts, the beauty in the relationships and bravery of the kids."

"All stories are beautiful. Even the sad ones."

The way she sees the world is refreshing. It's not so different than me, but I struggle. There is always a touch of existential dread around the edges in my version. Maybe there is in hers too. I reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers, "You are a sunflower."

"A sunflower?"

"You feel like sunshine." I grinned. "Go with my not fully formed metaphor."

"I am a sunflower."

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and shook my head.

Emma laughed and put her hand on my face, "I love you, Bastian."

"I love you, too." I turned my head to kiss her palm. We stayed in the moment, one of my favorite things we do, until the moment faded away. "What movie sounds good?"

We scrolled through available options on my phone and bought tickets for a couple of hours out. "I should let the guys know I'm home."

"They know. I'm in a group chat with Alissa, Mina, and Kelli. I jumped off last night when you were on the way."

"That's cool. You know Alissa, but no one's met Kelli."

"Yeah, Alissa got her number from Charles and started it so we could get to know each other. We've done a couple of video chats, but mostly texting. We're planning on getting very drunk on night one."

"Sounds good to me. I haven't checked the google document at all." In all honesty, I forgot about it until just now.

Emma stood up and kissed the top of my head, "Lots has been added."

I cringed, "I'll take a look." I wasn’t holding up my end of vacation planning.

"I'm going to jump in the shower. I feel disgusting."

"Okay." I opened the google link to see the document had grown exponentially. There was a list of restaurants and anyone's specific likes and dislikes. Links to boat companies, parasailing, zip lines, hiking, and helicopter tours. Ideas for game night, Karaoke, 70’s dance party, and drinking games. Before I was done adding my comments and suggestions Emma was back. She was wrapped in a white silk robe with her hair in a towel. I put my arm around her hips and nodded toward the screen. "You weren't kidding."

"I like the dance party. We can pretend we don't know each other and see if we can pick each other up."

"Now that's my favorite." I kissed whatever part of her was closest. "I added 80's music dance party and horror movie night."

"And strip poker."

What the fuck? "How do you know that?

She held in phone up, "You've scared Kelli. Mina told her you'd be the first one to chicken out."

"Mina is not wrong." I got an idea "You ladies could have a hen night for her. Did I tell you she and Ethan are getting married in October?"

"No, but we've talked about. I’ve seen the dress."

I was in my calendar and didn’t look up, "I'm not even going to ask because you won’t tell me."

"Nope."

"I'm good with secrets, unlike Holland or Ruffalo." She shook her head. "Worth a shot." I found the date. "Wedding is October 15th in Ibiza. Can you go with me?"

"Sure. I'll make it happen."

"Thank you." I stood up to kiss her. "I should shower."

Emma pinched her nose closed, "You really should."

I headed down the hall, "Kind of excited for my own shower. I might be a while."

"Have fun."

Fuck, if this wasn't the best shower I'd had in almost two months. If I ever moved I was recreating this shower. The long shelf, the tiled inset bench, and the world’s most amazing shower head. I stood under the hard spray and sniffed down the line of body washes until I found the one I wanted. I skipped the ones that smelled like the woman in the other room. We had plenty of time before the movie so I indulged. Trimmed my beard. A little manscaping. Brushed my teeth. Made myself all fresh and pretty. Who knows, I might have a shot at getting laid tonight.

Emma was putting on her earrings when I came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped low on my hips. She glanced up, seeing me in the mirror, and turned around to lean on the dresser. The look on her face stopped me dead in my tracks. Then I noticed what had looked like a black bra and panties from the back was more intricate from the front. There were diagonal straps and rings crossing her body.

I don't think we'll be using the movie tickets we purchased.

I lifted my face, one side of my mouth curling up. "What do you want?” I had a general idea, but wanted specifics.

"I want you to kiss me."

I walked to her, reaching my hand toward her face.

Emma pulled away, "Just kiss. Don't touch me."

My expression didn't change, didn't react. My cock did though. I ignored it. I pressed my lips to hers, doing just what she'd asked. A kiss. "That all you want?"

"No." She cut her eyes to the bed then back to me. Her green eyes sparkled with desire and mischief. “I want to blindfold you. Tie you to the bed. The only thing you can say, that I'll pay attention to, is no and stop."

"I don't think I'll be saying either of those."

"I don't think you will either."

She bit the side of her lip, thinking. "You should have an actual safe word."

She was right. My mind searched for one and lit on, "Freight car."

Recognizing the word she smiled, "Isn't that supposed to put you under my control not release you?"

"Too late for that."

Reaching behind her she brought forward the white sash from her robe. She glanced at the makeshift blindfold and then to me. "Do you trust me?"

"Completely." I turned my back to her and closed my eyes.

The soft cloth covered my eyes and made a soft sound as she tied it behind my head. "Too tight?"

"No." With my eyes covered my other senses instantly heightened. I could hear my breathing. Feel the breeze from the air conditioning. Smell Emma. Not perfume. Her.

I thought she was behind me until I felt all five fingers of each of her hands on either of my shoulders barely touching and slowly moving down my arms. She took my hands, pulling them together in front of me, "Come with me, Sebastian." I took steady steps where she led and turned me around. "A step back and sit down." Once I sat, she continued. "Scoot to the middle of the bed and lay down."

It felt like Emma walked around the bed lifting each corner of the mattress as she went. I smiled, knowing she'd set this up. Fuck, I liked being part of a plan. Being plotted against. In the best way possible. At corner four she took my hand, lifting it toward her. She wrapped what I assumed was leather lined with something soft around my wrist and fastened it with velcro. There was a click of metal when she fastened it to whatever she'd pulled from under the mattress. She walked around the bed and secured my other wrist. There was a lot of slack in the restraints.

My ankles were secured with the same give. Her fingers trailed over my calves and the cuffs. I couldn't tell what she was doing until I felt the tension as my ankles were pulled apart slowly and evenly. Where she stopped, I felt exposed, a little vulnerable, and thankful for the towel still around me.  Emma was perfectly comfortable with me seeing everything. I wasn't quite there. I wanted to close my legs a few inches and the realization that I couldn't settled in the base of my spine, making me squirm. The whole point of this fantasy was to give over control, to get out of my head, to trust Emma with my body. My pleasure or lack thereof.

Fuck, I love this. Not even five minutes in.

Emma kissed my mouth, dragging her fingernails down my jaw. The slightest touch of her tongue at the end had me stretching up to try and get more. She put one finger on my lips, gently pushing me back. "I’m going to go get a few things in the other room. You can get your hands loose by pulling the velcro strap. Show me."

Making sure I'm safe. I could easily get my hands together and pulled the velcro, freeing my hand. Emma was right there fastening it back. "I'll be right back". She trailed her hand down my body. At the towel she untucked the end and flipped it off me onto the bed, leaving me completely naked.

I heard her footfalls leave the room and leaving me with just myself. It made it better that I had no idea this was coming. The excitement was raw and not dampened by the expectation. Anticipation prickled along my skin.

True to her word, Emma was right back. I heard her moving around and setting things on the bed and nightstand. The foot of the bed dipped with her weight. She crawled up the bed, dragging her hair over me. The silky strands almost tickled and were the only thing I felt. When her hair reached my armpit, it did tickle and I involuntarily moved away.

"Can't have that."

I felt the same tension as I had when she'd spread my legs. My arms went more out than up. "I won't be leaving you alone anymore."

"I fucking love you." I couldn't help myself.

"I love you, baby." She hummed in the sexy dirty way she does. "Seeing you laid out like this. You are a work of art." As she spoke she moved her hands to her words. "Your muscles feel like sculpted marble covered in soft smooth skin. The definition in your arms. This line along your biceps. I can almost see the muscle fibers over your shoulders to your pecs. Each ripple of your stomach." Two fingers went down the center then separated out to the side under each muscle "Your cut line. These gorgeous thighs.” She sighed. “You've worked so hard." Then she hummed again. "Speaking of hard."

I cried out with the feel of Emma's warm mouth taking my cook in. One slow deep stroke. "Fuck!"

"My nipples are so hard. Thinking of all the things I'm going to do to you."

My mind was imagining her hands kneading her breasts and squeezing her nipples. I felt something against my lips. I recognized the feeling and sucked her nipple in my mouth. Almost as good as when she was sucking me. Almost. She let me suck and lick her for a good amount of time. God, I wanted more. Just a nipple wasn't enough. I sucked hard and rose as far as I could when she pulled away.

"Thank you, baby. Now you."

I felt something drop in the middle of my chest. Wet. Not hot or cold. The drop was quickly followed by the softest lick taking it away. Another drop and lick on the top of my right thigh. I flinched when the next was ice cold and slid from my collarbone toward my armpit. Her mouth warmed my chilled skin. It was either the cold or her tongue at the edge of my armpit that made me shiver. Cold and neutral drops landed randomly. A warm series of drips spiraled around my pec, ending directly on my nipple. She sucked each drop away in the same pattern, being very thorough with my nipple. I sucked in a breath when a drop of ice-cold froze my other nipple. I had no idea of temperature, location, or timing and it was making me crazy.

The cold flowing down where my thigh met my body was a shock, but worth it for how close it brought her mouth to my cock. The softness of her cheek brushed against my balls, and she licked up the other side just to fuck with me.

A drop of warm hit my lips. I licked it away. Honey.

"No fair, that was mine."

I had a smart assed reply ready, but her mouth silenced me, leaving no trace of the sticky sweetness undiscovered. I begged, "More."

I felt her nipple again, and greedily sucked a chocolate-flavored nipple between my lips and for the first time fought my bonds. When I couldn’t touch, I made fists and let them drop back to the mattress.

"Let’s see if you know what this is." There was a quiet moment and my stomach tightened waiting for what was next. She spoke one word, "Lick."

I didn't know where or what I was licking. I didn't care and went for it, sticking out my tongue, immediately knowing it was her nipple again and just as quickly recognizing the taste as her. A tiny part of my brain might have short-circuited. Emma had put her fingers inside herself. Spread what she found around her nipple. And offered it to me. I latched on, using my teeth to try and keep her where I could get all of her taste. She liked teeth.

She stroked my hair, "Such a good boy." Her finger stroked my cheek, "Let me go, Bastian."

Without a thought otherwise, I let her go. "You taste so good. I love going down on you."

"Good idea."

Emma had been beside me. She moved to straddle my chest and I thought I'd be getting more of her. But she bent over and assaulted the spot on my side. Her fingers teased, her tongue licked, and her mouth sucked. I'd even started to like the feel of teeth on that one spot. She did that too. The whole time I can feel her against my skin, I can hear the wet sounds she's making, and I can smell her pussy. She's close, but I can't get to her. I wanted my hands free so I could pull her back on my face and fucking devour her. Wasn't going to happen. My arms were bound too tight and the way she was sitting on my chest kept me from stretching for her.

I should mention that my cock is hard as vybranium right now and screaming for attention. Emma kissed the very root of my cock. "I think you deserve a reward. Her finger painted some stripes up the length of my shaft. As long as she licked it off what do I care flavor she's getting. She even striped my balls. Her lips moved over the stripes, almost nibbling her path. After nibbling a line away, she licked from the bottom to the very top where she ran her tongue in three circles around the head of my cock. Each circle growing smaller, and ending with the tip of her tongue teasing my slit. I think there were five stripes, didn’t care enough to keep track.

"I brought some juice and water. Would you like a drink?"

I liked my lips, suddenly thirsty, "Yes." A straw touched my lips and I drank. I had a feeling things were about to get very bad for me. In the best way possible.

Emma turned around, laying on me lacing our fingers together and putting pressure on my arms. She kissed me long and slow. My mouth, my neck, up to my ear. "I need to come, Bastian. Teasing you is teasing me."

"Let me make you come." Didn’t even try to make my voice not sound so needy. I’m a good actor, but not that good.

Her lips brushed over mine. "Would you like that? Licking my pussy?" She kissed away my answer. "Don't say anything. I know you'd like that. I'm going to miss your hands."

I felt her moving, her knees against my arms. I lifted my head to the side and sucked her inner thigh, before moving center to lick her. "Lower, come lower so I can reach you." Emma did as I asked. I barely had to stretch to reach her. There was enough space for me to explore, to taste everywhere. When she grabbed my hair I focused on her clit. I was so fucking turned on I may have wanted her to come more than she did. I needed something. The taste and sound of her was good. Getting her off was working for me. She was making me crazy. My need paired with hers left me oblivious to the signs and her orgasm surprised me. Then she was gone.

With her not on the bed I couldn’t track where she was. She wasn't making any noise. The mystery was exhilarating. The first thing I felt was the bed giving. She was between my legs. Something tickled my ankle. Might be a feather or some sort of tassel. Her hair. Fuck, let it be her hair. Whatever it is ran up the inside my thigh. Didn't tickle anymore.

"Can I touch here?"

"Yes."

Her hand massaged up my thighs. Whatever it was traced the fine line at the top of my thigh in the opposite direction from the cold drop of water. "What about here?"

"Yes." I prepared for her fingers and got her tongue. A slow squiggly lick that made me turn my knee out to spread my legs further and I moan like a wanton whore.

Emma made a sexy noise. "I liked that sound. Hope you make it again."

"Pretty sure I will."

"Me too." She traced my cock and balls while she spoke, "I've already touched here. I'm going to assume you're okay with that."

"I’m very okay with that." It has occurred to me what "it" is. The bunny tail from last night. She lifted my balls and ran it over my perineum and ass.

"And what about here? Can I touch here with my fingers? Lick you here?"

I begged, "Oh god, please."

I made that sound again when her finger stroked my perineum. I heard a click and my leg was free. A hand behind my knee pushed it up into the air.

"I need more room." She left warm wet kisses down the back of my thigh, my butt cheek. There was no more teasing when she got to my perineum. Her tongue licked with exactly the right pressure. Her lips applied the perfect suction. I was wiggling to get closer. I went dead still when her tongue went lower. So many nerve endings were stimulated so precisely by her mouth. I tossed my head against the bed and fisted the sheets as best I could. "That feels so good feels so fucking good." I was a complete mess by the time she back away, replacing her tongue with her finger. "I want to touch inside you."

"Anything." I threw my head back with a gasp. Overwhelmed by feeling when Emma slid my cook inside her mouth at the same time she slid her finger in my ass. There was no feeling of strangeness. I went straight to pleasure. She worked me inside and out. My cock was clearly not the focus. It was more to keep my attention while I got used to fingers inside me. Much like how I gave her my mouth while prepping her for anal. When she pulled off my cock, one hundred percent of my attention went to her finger on my prostate. My reaction to being touched like this reminded me of touching her clit. At times different things felt better.

I could feel that Emma sat with crossed legs between mine. I hope she enjoys up close looking as much as I do. I thought crossed my mind quickly to be embarrassed. I guess if she didn’t want to be she wouldn’t be down there. I liked when her tongue joined her finger and made quiet noises of approval. Her finger was stroking, pressing, and circling my prostate while her tongue skated around my entrance to stimulate nerves there. Emma kept a leisurely pace and I would be content to let her do this all night.

Right now, in the beginning, it’s not a frantic rush to the finish line. It’s more like a slow sensual massage that may lead to more. I felt lube cover my cock and her hand spreading it over my shaft and balls. Her hand slowly stroked my length. Not wrapping her fingers around me, just touching like an afterthought or only enough to keep me hard.

Emma ran her hand along my thigh. "Sebastian, does this feel good?"

"Mmm, very good."

She gave my prostate a couple of firm taps, "Do you think you can come from this?"

"No idea."

"My research says you can. It takes a while. Are you willing to try?"

"Definitely." The firmer touch had felt good. "Can you go deeper where you're stroking with the full pad of your finger, not just your fingertip?"

“I can."

First, she pulled out and added more lube. Re-entry caused a deep moan I barely recognized as me. I’d asked for deeper and I knew the pad of her finger was no more than an inch, but deeper felt much deeper. Deeper felt more vulnerable and more pleasurable. I loved both.

I relaxed into the feelings. Every so often tiny shocks and jolts were emanating from where she touched. That would amp up the excitement for a minute or so then die back down. I can’t express how amazing it felt.

"Tell me what you need me to do differently."

“Nothing, fuck, what you’re doing feels pretty fucking amazing. Like I don’t want to move . . .  ever.”

She kissed my hip, “Then why don’t you do that. Don’t move. Just feel.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #411

“everybody’s got loaded stories, and i know for a fact everybody sees a bullseye on my back”

Have you ever been to jail? No. Opinion on snow? I absolutely love it! Not big on the slush it leaves behind, though. It gets ugly. What are you best at drawing? Meerkats. Are you scared of going over bridges? Nah. If you had endless energy and stamina, how would you spend your days? Plenty of exercise, lots of exploration with my camera, doing chores much more regularly... stuff like that. What mental or physical space do you go when you want to recharge or relax? I go to my room and watch YouTube. Did you have/use a comfort object as a child (do you continue to have one)? I actually don't remember. Now as an adult, if I go somewhere, my purse is actually like my comfort item in that I like to sit and sort of hug it to feel more secure. When was the last time you said something you regret? What did you say? I'm unsure. What do you tend to get carried away with? New hobbies/interests. It will be like all I care about for a long while, ha ha. Do you believe we have souls; do you believe in a life after death? Yes to both. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Ugh, yes, and it's the absolute worst. What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid? We had those Flintstones ones for a while, but for most of my childhood, we had gummy vitamins. Have you ever gone to court? Well, yes, but not for like your ordinary court hearing. While hospitalized on one occasion, a lawyer visited to speak to the patients informing us that we could argue against our discharge dates if we believed we were going to be committed for too long, which I thought I was, so I signed up to bring my case in front of a judge. So yeah, I've been to court, but not for ordinary reasons. Are you friends with your neighbors? "Friends," no. The people to our left like just moved out, and I don't even know if we've ever been outside at the same time as the family on our right. Favorite color? I like baby pink. How long has it been since you’ve seen The Lion King? I saw the CGI remake when it came out, if that counts? I don't know about the original. When did you last hold hands with someone? Sometime when I was at my sister's house, my niece grabbed my hand to drag me somewhere, ha ha. Have you ever had a crush on your sibling's friend? No. Have you ever gone to a beach? Multiple times. How good is your eyesight? It is very, VERY bad. I need new glasses severely. What’s the best wedding you’ve been to? My former dance teacher's. Have you ever had a negative encounter with the police? What happened? No. What’s your favourite thing to cook/bake? Do you eat it often? I don't do either. How do you flush the toilet in public? I generally use my elbow. I don't like standing on one leg, so I don't really use my foot like I'd prefer. Favorite horror movie? Silent Hill is dearest to me overall just because of what it is, but as a horror film, I think the original Blair Witch Project is best. Do you have your wisdom teeth? X-rays have only ever shown two are present, but I have enough space for those. What would you name your pet snake if you had one? It would depend on their appearance. The snake I have currently is named Venus because her coloration is similar to the planet. Do you like peanuts? Only when covered in chocolate. Where do you typically shop for bras and underwear? Do you tend to keep it simple, or have a variety of different items? Have you ever gotten a professional bra fitting? I don't get new undergarments (or clothes in general) frequently, but historically, my bras are bought online and underwear just from Wal-Mart. I don't really get the second question? I mean I don't have a style when it comes to those types of clothes, if that's what you mean. I've never had an actual bra-fitting, but I absolutely need to but keep putting it off. It seems like NO bra fits me properly all-around, and it's ridiculously annoying. What (if any) types of xrays/scans/other diagnostic tests have you had done? Was anything found? Idk man, a lot. I've had xrays on my wrist (found a fracture), teeth, legs... maybe more? I've also had an ultrasound on my liver for reasons I don't recall. I either had an MRI or CT scan (I can't remember which) when I got a concussion, and uhhhh... I can't think of anything else. Were you breast or bottle fed as a child? If you plan to have children, which do you think you’ll choose? Do you think one is really better than the other? I was nursed, and if I hypothetically had children, I'd definitely try to do the same. It was so incredible to me that I've never forgotten this: when I was at the hospital while my sister had her first baby, there was a chart on the wall of how many more nutrients were in breast milk versus formula milk, and the list was GARGANTUAN. Like, unbelievable. Now, do I think it's BETTER? That's a complicated question for which, in short, my answer is no. More nutritious, well, given what I just said, obviously. But breastfeeding just doesn't work for all mothers for a plethora of reasons, like the time demand, they can be self-conscious, it's painful... and all those things are okay. A mother should do what works best for her. Neither one is "wrong" or makes someone less of a mother because they feed their child less traditionally. Do you find that you have become more selective in terms of friendships as you’ve gotten older? Did the friendships you thought would last over time end up that way? Absolutely. There are just some kinds of people I absolutely do not tolerate anymore. And no, not most. We just drifted apart with time, or given most of my closest friendships are/were online, they just fell off the face of the earth. What are you doing right now? This and re-watching John Wolfe play Bloodborne. Bloodborne is such a comfort series to me... somehow, ha ha. Yet another game I've never played but desperately want to. Where are you? In my bedroom, as always. When you get yelled at, do you yell back or let it go? Depending on who it is, I might yell back, but most likely cry, ha ha. I hate being yelled at, like a lot. Is the person you last texted single? That would be my mom, so yeah. I've hoped she'd find a partner forever... She, probably more than anyone I know, deserves love from the *right* guy. I worry a lot how lonely she may become whenever I move out. Are you easily scared by horror movies? Not at all. Are you friends with any of your ex boyfriend/girlfriends? Girt and Sara, yes. Are you lonely? Be honest. Very. What has made you happy today? It's too early for this. What has made you sad today? Nothing, really. Last thing eaten? I had leftover pancakes from yesterday. Are you wearing anything that’s not yours? No. Do you like to wear makeup? I mean it makes me feel prettier, sure, but the actual time investment doesn't feel worth it for me personally. Especially when you're not even that good with applying it. Have you ever attempted to write a story or novel? Many times when I was younger. Would you rather have perfect hair or perfect skin? Perfect skin. I hate my skin, it has so many blemishes. What’s your middle name? Marie. How big is your bed? Queen. Do you drink? Only a bit for special occasions, really. I'll have a daiquiri on your average day every once and a blue moon. Would you fall apart if that last person you kissed walked out of your life? That's an understatement. Do you prefer pasta, salad, or coleslaw? Pasta. I hate coleslaw. Do you find smoking unattractive? Yes. Where’s the last place you went besides your house? The TMS office. Do you eat breakfast daily? Yes. Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My dad. Do you like your cell phone? No, but it gets the job done. I just wish I had a phone with a good camera. Has anyone ever sang to you? Yes. So, what if you married the last person you kissed? That's the dream, but I acknowledge and accept it just might not work out like that. Do you usually answer your texts? Almost always. Have you ever changed clothes in a vehicle? Yes. Who has seen you cry the most? My mom, for sure. Have you ever just laid down outside and stared at the stars? Yeah, Jason and I did that one night on the trampoline. Have your friends ever randomly stopped by your house? In the past, yes. Think to the last person you kissed; have you ever kissed them on the ground? No. Do you have a condom in your room? No, got no use for one. Do your siblings ever pay for stuff for you? Yes. What brand is your digital camera? Canon. Do you own expensive perfume/cologne? No; I really don't get the point. When was the last time you went tanning? Ew, never. I find NO appeal in just lying in the boiling sun. Do you like the smell of fresh cut grass? No, I hate it. Do you get embarrassed easily? Like you would not fucking believe. It's one of the things I hate most about myself, because I'm embarrassed about everything I like and what makes me me. Has anyone ever thrown you a surprise party? No. Do you always wear your seatbelt? Absolutely. You couldn't pay me not to. Do you sing in the shower? No. Have you ever been called a slut/whore/something along those lines? Only playfully among friends. Have you ever stood up for someone you hardly/didn't even know? Yes. Have you ever fallen in love with a really good friend of yours? Yes. Do you own a blacklight? No. Do you like fruit better than vegetables? Definitely. Have your friends met the last person you kissed? Of my current friends, only Girt has. If you’re straight, have you ever thought about kissing the same sex? If you’re gay, have you ever thought about kissing the opposite sex? I'm bisexual, soooo. What does your laugh sound like? Do you have a loud laugh or a quiet laugh? Bro my laugh is so fucking loud and obnoxious. Is there a reality TV show you would consider taking part in? No.

[bittysvalentines]

To @mia-wiah​

From @wrathofthestag

Message:  Happy Bitty Valentine’s!  A little domestic future Zimbits that revolves around snow.  I hope you like it, @mia-wiah <3

“Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person” ― Sylvia Plath

“Jack... Jack”

“Hmm?”

“It's snowing.”

“Yeah.”

“A lot.”

“Right on.”

“No, I’m serious. I mean like a lot.”

Jack, who still had his eyes closed, reached over to Bitty's side of the bed and pouted when he felt it was empty. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up as he stretched while he loudly yawned.  

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked over to Bitty, who peered out their bedroom windows. 

“Look at this,” he said as he pointed at the windows.

Jack pulled on his jogging pants and padded over toward Bitty.  Sure enough, everything was white. Fluffy snow blanketed everything as far as the eye could see.  Their backyard grill was almost completely covered, and it was still coming down.  

"This is a lot more than what the news predicted," Bitty said, shaking his head. 

"Guess it's a good thing we don't have to be anywhere.  Come back to bed, Bits."

“Look at it,” Bitty said in disbelief.

Jack draped himself over Bitty and brought him in tight for a hug, chest to back.

“Come back to bed,” he accentuated each word with a kiss to BItty’s neck, then padded back to the bed.

Bitty took one more look at the snow, then back at his sleepy grinning husband and figured there were definitely worse ways to weather the storm.

+

Bitty started the coffee brewing, and Jack entered the room in full-on lumberjack gear with a flannel shirt, some long underwear, thick wool socks, and what Jack liked to refer to as his “favorite toque.”

Bitty’s heart fluttered as he took Jack in with wide eyes.

“Aren’t you looking like a winter wonderland?”

Jack laughed and took the mug Bitty offered him.

“Bits, that was terrible―like, even for us, that was bad.”

Bitty chuckled. “Yeah, not my finest moment.”

“So, I’m going to go shovel, and then do we want to make some waffles and bacon?”

Bitty smiled.  “I love how you say ‘we’ when what you’re really saying is ‘Can you please make some waffles and bacon.’”

Jack kissed Bitty. 

“Can you please make some waffles and bacon?” he said sweetly.

“Get outta here, you schmoozer, and go shovel.”

Jack laughed as he returned to the bedroom to finish getting dressed.

+

They weren’t looking to buy a house, not yet.  Jack’s contract was up soon, and they didn’t feel it would be wise to buy a place if they were going to end up moving.  Providence loved Jack, but he wasn’t naive.  He knew it didn’t mean anything when it came time for contracts and potential trades.

Once his contract had been renewed (“Seriously, Jack. The only way you’d ever leave the Falconers is by your own choice,” George had said afterward), Jack and Bitty let themselves start looking.  Just a little bit…

One day, Bitty was perusing real estate online, and there it was, a quiet, unassuming home in Fox Point.  It was a sunny historic cottage built in the late 1800s.  The realtor had charmed them with the open floor plan and two-story addition.  The fireplaced living room, vaulted ceilings, and gourmet kitchen only sweetened the deal.

“You can walk to everything from here,” their realtor, Melissa, had said, “but it still has a small neighborhood feel.”

The history buff in Jack fell in love with the home’s past and Bitty, well, he fell in love with its future, picturing themselves growing old together in that home.

“Do you like it?” Jack asked quietly as they stood in the kitchen while Melissa gave them some privacy.

“Do you?”

“Bits,” Jack asked again, “do you like it?”

“Jack, I love it.  It has a red door!” 

“Then I guess it’s ours,” Jack said as he grinned while Bitty jumped into his arms.

They moved in a few months later, after a couple of final renovations.

“How did we have this much stuff in the apartment?” Jack asked.  “How?”

“Mama finally had the rest of my stuff shipped here.  The trophies, books, old clothes, baby clothes, costumes, everything,” Bitty said as he polished MooMaw’s silver platter and gently placed it on the counter.

“Was she in cahoots with maman?  I just got some boxes of stuff, too,” Jack said, bewildered, as he unpacked old hockey gear from his pee wee days.  “I don’t need this,” he said as he held up an old skate with broken laces.  “Do I?”

Bitty laughed. “Aw, what about our kids?”

Jack looked at his skate and smiled. “We’ll get them new ones.” 

He tossed it aside and pulled out some more books from the box. “Also, I like that subtle segue into the topic of parenthood.”

“It’s not subtle or unsubtle; it’s just practical talk, Mr. Zimmermann.  I mean, it’s not like we’re going to have kids tomorrow.  Maybe in a couple years we’ll see.”

Jack looked at his husband, who unpacked various kitchen odds and ends and smiled as he did.  They had talked about children in the past, peripherally, but they had talked about it.  Now, being married with a house of their own and feeling settled… it seemed like a real possibility.

“Soon, Bits.  Soon.”

Once every dish was finally in place, every book, every cushion, every trophy just so, the very first snowfall of the year began.

“We’re home,” Bitty said as they sat in the window seat, eating pizza, and quietly watching the snow come down.

“Yeah, we are,” Jack said as he smiled and watched Bitty admire the newly fallen snow.

That was two years ago.

+

“What are you doing out here?”

Jack stopped shoveling when he saw Bitty approaching.  He was dressed in his full winter wear, which included an enormous down parka―which Jack continuously chirped him about―a thick knitted cap, and a scarf which wrapped around his neck twice.

“I came to help,” he said.

“But you hate shoveling,” Jack said.  A huff of frosty air came from his mouth.

“But I love you, so,” Bitty shrugged, “it all evens out.”

“The salt is still in the garage.  Wanna get it?”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Bitty said with a salute.

After a while, Bitty seemed to get in the groove, salting their walkway when all of a sudden, he screamed as a colossal snowball landed right in his face.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann!  I’m going to kill you!”

Jack laughed as Bitty began to chase him around their backyard, still wiping snow out of his eyes.  His scarf flapped in the wind behind him.

“You’ll make an adorable widower!”

When Bitty finally caught up to him, he jumped onto Jack’s back and pulled him down onto a massive pile of snow.

“You are such a stinker!”

“You should have seen the look on your face, Bittle,” Jack said. 

“Was it anything like this?” Bitty asked as he threw a mound of snow onto Jack’s face.

The two laughed and wrestled, each one turning them both to pin the other down, until Jack finally pulled a dirty move and licked Bitty’s face.

When Bitty rolled off him, swearing up a storm, Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Half an hour later, they came back inside.  Jack and Bitty shook the snow off their boots and bodies, in the back mudroom, and hung up their coats.

“I’m going to change because my husband is a hooligan, and then I’m going to make myself some waffles and bacon.”

Jack smirked, a piece of snow still clung to his beard, “Guess I’ll just sit sadly and watch you eat.”

Bitty winked.  “I guess you will.”

Jack pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it on the couch as he went straight to the kitchen.  He took out the eggs, milk, bacon, and the giant glass mixing bowl.  He turned on the oven to 400° and washed his hands.

“Should I make all the bacon?” Jack called out.

“Yeah,” Bitty replied as he entered the kitchen. “I’m starving.”

“More coffee?”

“Mmm, yes, please,” Bitty said as he took out the waffle maker.

The two worked in quiet unison, each one familiar with the other’s breakfast dance.  Jack paused to admire the snowfall, still going, then paused once again to admire Bitty.  He wore an old Falconer’s t-shirt and his well-worn Samwell joggers.  The back of his hair stuck up in a million little pieces. 

Jack looked at Bitty’s bare feet and smiled.

“It doesn’t seem like the snow is going to stop anytime soon, does it?” Bitty said.  He cracked 

two eggs into the bowl and stilled when he saw Jack watching him closely.  “What?  Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jack put down the coffee filter and walked over to Bitty in two long strides.  He took him in his arms and smiled.

“Look at you, in your pajamas, always making our house feel like a home even in the coldest, wintry days…”

“Yeah?”

“I think we should do it, Bits.”

“Do what?”

“Should we finally start a family?”

“Really?” Bitty asked so quietly, Jack barely heard him.

“Yes.  I mean, if you’re ready.  If you’re ready, I’m ready, and if you’re not, we can wait… but...”

Bitty looked at Jack, then jumped onto his back like he did outside in the snow, and began laughing. “I cannot believe you!  You spring this on me when I look like this?”

“What does that have anything to do with it?”

“It has everything to do with it, you moose!”

The two began to laugh some more, already dreaming of small bare feet running in their kitchen, as snow falls outside all around them.

[ohsh1t2wksl8]

Layers

Layer 1: The Basics Name: Age: Birthday: Gender: Zodiac Sign: Layer 2: Your Family Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do you have any pets? Do you still live with your parents? Do you have any stepparents? How many cousins do you have? Layer 3: Your Friends Who is your best friend? Who have you been friends with the longest? What do you like to do with your friends? Do you have more friends online or in real life? What is a good way to make friends with others? Layer 4: Your Home Do you live in a home, apartment, duplex, trailer, etc? How many rooms are there in your house? Is your home large or small? What is your favorite room in your house, and why? Do you prefer having people over to your house, or would you rather go to theirs? Layer 5: Can You Can you fold your tongue into the taco shape? Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? Can you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue? Can you hold up your end of a physical fight? Can you do any yo-yo tricks? Layer 6: Who Who inspires you the most, and why? Who helps you maintain your sanity? Who do you go to most often for advice? Who knows you better than you know yourself? Who is someone that you would die or put your life on the line for, no questions asked? Layer 7: Do you Do you still eat sandwiches without the crusts? Do you typically finish your meal at a restaurant, or need to take a container home? Do you pull an Oreo apart in order to eat it? Do you read a lot of gossip magazines? Do you make friends easily? Layer 8: How Many? How many people live in your house with you? How many pets have you had in your lifetime? How many tries does it take you to become successful at something? How many meals do you eat a day? How many people can you honestly tolerate? Layer 9: How How do you typically get to school or work? How do you deal with a breakup? How do you like to help others? How do you know when you’ve found “the one”? How do you sleep in bed? Layer 10: What What do you think happens when we die? What do you do if there’s no toilet paper left on the roll and you’re already peeing? What do you eat most often? What toys did you enjoy most as a child? What do you do if you witness someone being awful to someone else? Layer 11: Where Where is your favorite place to eat out? Where is the place that has the best ice cream in your area?  Where did you meet your current or last significant other? Where can you be found at 7 PM. typically? Where can you find the best French fries? Layer 12: When When did you find out the truth about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy? When do you typically fall asleep?  When was the last time that someone paid you a compliment? When do you feel most comfortable? When did you last go to the bathroom? Layer 13: Why Why do you enjoy taking surveys so much? Why do people gossip so much? Why can’t humans fly?  Why aren’t you doing something else right now? Why is the sky blue?  Layer 14: If... If you had a million dollars, what would you spend it on? If you found out someone was cheating on you, would you ever take them back? If you found a wallet with cash in the street, including identification, would you turn it in? Why or why not? If you could have any food right now, what would you like?   If you found out that the world was going to end tomorrow, how would you spend your last day? Layer 15: Firsts When did you lose your first tooth? Who was your first teacher that you ever had? When did you first learn how to ride a bike? When was the first time you had sex? Did your first birthday have a theme to it? Layer 16: Lasts Last person you texted: Last drink you sipped: Last time you rode a bike: Last time you swam in a pool: Last person you hugged: Layer 17: Favorites Favorite Color Favorite Season Favorite Shape Favorite Letter: Favorite Number: Layer 18: This or That Pepsi or Coke? Movies or Television? Phone or Tablet? Fruits or Vegetables? Animals or Humans? Layer 19: Which Which Poke’mon is your favorite? Which day of the week is your favorite? Which birthday celebration was the most memorable for you? Which holiday is your favorite? Which shoe do you put on first? Layer 20: Love Life/Relationships What is the name of your first love? How many times can you honestly say you’ve been in love? Have you ever been in a relationship before that was abusive in any way? Have you ever been engaged or married before? Do you have any children? Layer 21: Jobs, Dreams, & Goals What did you want to be when you grew up (as a little kid)? What do you aspire to be now? What interests you? What is the most recent goal you’ve achieved? What is a goal you are still striving to reach? Have you ever won any sort of awards before? If so, for what? Layer 22: Opinions & Beliefs Pro-life or pro-choice? Were you raised with any sort of religious background? If so, then what? Democrat, Republican, or Independent? For or against the death penalty? Thoughts on assisted suicide? Layer 23: Currently/Today/Present What day is it? What’s the weather like outside? What have you eaten? Did you run any errands? What time is it? Layer 24: Yesterday Did you have a work shift? Did you eat out anywhere? Was it snowing? Who did you last say goodnight to? Did anything unusual happen? Layer 25: Tomorrow Do you have to go to school/class? Does this day have any sort of significance to you? What is a chore that needs to get done? Will you hang out with friends? What time will you be expected to be awake by? Layer 26: Have You Ever Performed a magic trick successfully? Sat or laid on a rooftop and looked at the stars? Walked around with your underwear on inside out or backwards all day without realizing it? Touched a snake? Been bitten by an animal? If so, what animal? Layer 27: School Life Are preschool and kindergarten mandatory where you live? Were you or anyone you knew homeschooled? Did you attend public or private school? Were you bullied in school, popular, or somewhere in-between? What is the highest level of education that you completed? Layer 28: Your Appearance Eye Color: Hair Color: Height: Weight: Do you have freckles. moles, beauty marks, or birthmarks - and where? Layer 29: Electronics, Internet, & Social Media How much time do you spend on the internet per day? Which social media platforms do you belong to? When’s the last time you replaced the batteries in your television remote? Are you more likely to stream movies and shows on your laptop, or cast them to your television? Do you have an e-reader, or do you prefer actual books? Layer 30: Are You Are you still in school? Are you a member of the LGBTQ+ community? Are you looking forward to anything coming soon? Are you dreading anything coming soon? Are you gullible or naive? Layer 31: Does Does your workplace make you feel like you can never take a day off without feeling guilty about it? Does someone currently hold the key to your heart? Does anyone out there hate you? Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Does crying make you feel less strong?  Layer 32: Would You Do the Polar Bear Plunge? Ever try to walk across a room blindfolded? Swim with sharks? Go into outer space, given the chance? Go out in public, looking how you do right now? Layer 33: Pets/Animals Do you have any pets? If so, what type, and their names... If not, what type of pet have you always wanted? What is your favorite animal? Do you think it is cruel to have circus animals? How often do you walk your dog, if you have one? How often do you scoop the litterbox, if you have a cat? Layer 34: Food What is your favorite breakfast item? What is your favorite kind of dessert? Do you eat all three meals everyday? What’s the longest you’ve gone without food? What do you like to eat when you are feeling sick? Layer 35: Past Does your past ever come back to haunt you at times? What is one of your favorite memories of the past? What is something that you used to do in the past, but no longer do? If you could have a meal with someone from the past, who would it be, and what would you ask them? Which historical time period would you like to go back to and check out? Layer 36: Future Do you think you will ever get married one day? Do you plan on ever getting a different job in the future, or are you happy with the one you’ve got? What age do you plan to retire at? Or do you plan on working til you’re dead? What is something on your bucket list worth mentioning? If given the opportunity to see how your future plays out, would you take it, or no? Layer 37: Hygiene How often do you shower? How often do you brush your teeth? Do you actually iron any of your clothes? How often do you do laundry? How long do you use a bath towel before switching it out? Layer 38: Clothing, Makeup, & Style Do you wear nail polish? If so, how often do you paint your nails? How would your describe your sense of style? Are there any popular trends that you do not find appealing? Where do you typically buy your clothing from? What sorts of accessories do you wear/use? Layer 39: Hobbies Do you still color, even as an adult? Do you/would you like to crochet, knit, cross-stitch, etc? What’s the last thing you crafted all by yourself? Do you use Pinterest at all? What’s the last thing that you cooked or baked? Layer 40: Dislikes List some of your pet peeves here. What are some things that annoy you about yourself? Is there anyone out there who you actually hate? Who? What is a feeling that you dislike? Do you get some ugly road rage while driving?  Layer 41: Random Have you ever successfully pogo’ed on a pogo stick? Have you ever mastered the jump rope? Do you know what it feels like to be truly happy? Is it winter in your part of the world right now?  What’s your favorite type of survey, and why? Layer 42: Music What are some of your favorite genres of music? What are some music genres that you can’t stand? If you had a blank pair of concert tickets, who would you hope to be going to see? Do you still listen to music on the radio from time to time? iTunes, Spotify, Pandora, Amazon Music, or YouTube? Layer 43: Books What were some of your favorite books as a child? What genre of books do you typically read most often? What are some of your favorite books as an adult? What is a book that you were required to read for school that you actually enjoyed? Do you read any newspapers or magazines anymore? Layer 43: Around the World Where’s the best place you’ve taken a vacation and/or day trip to? Where is somewhere that you’d like to go someday, assuming you have the funds to do so? Where do your family members originate from? What is your favorite type of ethnic cuisine? What is something that is typically representative of your own culture? Layer 44: Would you Rather... Drink apple juice or grape juice? Wear pants or shorts? Be taller or shorter? Go to a zoo or an aquarium? Visit an art gallery or a museum? Layer 45: Movies Do you remember what the first movie was that you saw in theaters? What are some of your favorite movies you’ve seen? What genre of movie do you typically enjoy? What is a movie you’ve seen that you weren’t expecting to like, but were pleasantly surprised? How many movies do you own? Are they all DVD’s, or do you still have some VHS ones left? Layer 46: Personality Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? Are you more easygoing and laid back, or anal? Are you kind to everyone who shows that they deserve kindness? Describe your sense of humor. Do you tend to over-share? Layer 47: Celebrities Which celebrity has given their child the most unique name, in your opinion? Are there any celebrities that you keep tabs on/read articles about often? Who is/are your celebrity crush(es)? Have you ever personally met someone famous before? If so, then who? Who is a celebrity that you’re getting tired of hearing about all the time? Layer 48: Emotions When was the last time you cried? What are some things that you’re afraid of? What is something small that makes you happy? Who is the last person that you were angry with, and about what? Are you typically a shy or outgoing person? Layer 49: Digging Deeper What is your favorite alcoholic beverage? How old were you when you got drunk for the first time? Do you smoke? Have you ever taken and sent naked pictures of yourself? Have you ever done any drugs other than marijuana? If so, which ones? Layer 50: Games What are some of your favorite video games? Do you have any computer games that you play regularly? What was your favorite board game, growing up? How about your favorite card game? How good are you at solving puzzles? (such as a Rubik’s cube, word puzzles, or putting together a jigsaw puzzle) [ohsh1t2wksl8]