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#i love that he actually eats all his food
luveline · 3 days
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hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3
kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k
“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 
Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 
“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 
“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 
Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 
Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.
“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 
“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 
“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 
She grins. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome. You all done?” 
“Yep.” 
“Not hungry anymore?” 
“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 
“Thanks, beautiful.” 
She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 
Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 
Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 
She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 
“I’m tired.” 
“It’s not bed time.” 
She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 
“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 
“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 
“That sound fun or what?” 
She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 
He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 
You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 
“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 
“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 
You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 
Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 
I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 
“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 
“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 
“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 
Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 
“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 
“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 
“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 
“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 
He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 
“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 
“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 
He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”
“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.
“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 
“I didn’t say one!” 
“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 
“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”
You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 
“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 
Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 
Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 
Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 
Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 
If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 
You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 
You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 
“Oh, no,” Avery says. 
“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 
They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 
“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 
Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 
“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 
You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 
“Gonna get Beth changed.” 
“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 
It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 
“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 
The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 
Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 
“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 
“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 
“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 
“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 
Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 
“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 
This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 
“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 
She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 
“Sorry,” she laughs. 
“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 
Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 
“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.
He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 
“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 
“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 
Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 
Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 
“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 
You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 
He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 
“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 
You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 
Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 
“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 
“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 
“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 
He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 
“Feels too good to be true.” 
“My turn tonight,” he says. 
“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 
“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”
“I want them too,” you say. 
“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 
“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 
Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 
“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 
“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 
“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
“I love you.”
“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  
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ovaryacted · 2 days
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Really random but dad bod DI Leon🤤🤤🤤 (I really love DI Leon if you couldn’t tell) like I love Leon w abs, and his hourglass shape but just him cuddling w you and being so warm and soft😢 (or when y’all are making love and his tummy just has us fitting together like puzzle pieces and it’s LIKE OMGMGM😭😭😭😭😭)
-🐏
cw: descriptions of body changes, internalized fatphobia, smutty thoughts/acts.
OHHHHHH DAD BOD LEON IS MY VICE PLEASE OH MY FUCKING GOD. LIKE RAHHHH, I NEED IT BAD. Ram anon, I'm on to you.
The changes happen after a year into his forced retirement, he doesn't realize it until he becomes more aware of the way your arms feel wrapping around his soft torso. Once adorned with hard muscle, his body now was covered in a layer of skin that expanded over time. He still had the same physique and the same capacity for strength, but there was an added softness he’d acquired recently that sent his head in for a spin.
Retirement has been good for Leon, he no longer has to deal with the hecticness of mission briefings and assignments. He gets to actually rest, his usual overactive nervous system now rendered down and becoming more manageable. The first couple of weeks he spent falling asleep in bed or on the couch, like his body was playing catchup on the energy that's been robbed from him over the years. You didn’t bother him about it, didn’t even judge him whenever you’d find him limp on the bed and snoring in the middle of the day.
You'd use that time to run errands or do chores around your shared home, often preparing meals for him whenever he'd wake up groggily to go look for you. Eating homemade meals that were made with love certainly started to add up, the consistent intake of food was new and apparently something that his body liked and needed. The constant nausea he often experienced when he was under so much stress went away, slowly learned how to enjoy eating again like he did years before he was forced to become an agent.
He never focused on his appearance most days, but as Leon stopped to observe himself in the mirror one morning, his eyes were fixated on his body. He's certainly changed after a while, stomach a little fuller and cheeks more plump than before, hell even his arms and thighs looked bigger. His initial reaction to the change would have been disgust, to put himself back on a routine to regain the muscle he's lost and to critique every imperfection that would eventually be another nuisance.
But as he looked at himself a little longer, a smile crept up on his face, not minding what he saw for probably the first time in his life. All he saw was your love for him, how the signs of you taking care of him after all this time were starting to reflect in how he looked. He was healthy, he was alive, and that was a win in his book.
You certainly didn't mind the changes either and took every opportunity to remind Leon of just how much you adored him. Cuddling him whenever you could was something that became a ritual between the two of you, sneaking under his arm and digging your face into his chest any chance you got. He was soft, warm, and just a tad bit squishy. He was human, he was himself, not some war machine meant to work like a dog day and night.
One of your favorite things about his new appearance was the intimate moments you both shared and how he felt around you both internally and externally. You loved getting on your knees and worshipping him, sucking over his cock lavishly and running your hands over his thick thighs, biting at them when Leon found himself lost in pleasure.
Or when you were riding him and the sound of his thighs slapping against yours was louder than before, his lower tummy rubbing into you, meshing together so well one would think you were part of the same whole. It made you feral, like a primal instinct to claim him and show him that all you wanted was to make him feel accepted in this new body. Leon didn't complain, he loved how your attraction to him seemed to skyrocket.
Maybe being a bit more soft wasn't so bad after all.
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katakaluptastrophy · 18 hours
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You know when you're at a dinner party with God and things start to get...weird...? It's Maundy Thursday, and it's time for more Bible study for fans of weird queer necromancers!
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It's currently Holy Week, the week where liturgical Christians reenact the events of Jesus' death and resurrection in real time. And today, it's Maundy Thursday, which commemorates the Last Supper, where Jesus ate with his friends before he was crucified.
Before we get to the Locked Tomb, what's so special about the Last Supper?
There are actually a few significant things that happen during the Last Supper, but this is where Jesus introduces the concept of communion:
Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood. - Matthew 26:26-28
This isn't actually the first time Jesus has told his followers they will need to literally eat him:
So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. - John 6:53-56
If you're thinking that sounds a bit intense, you're not alone - the Bible says that "many" of his disciples left after being told that they were apparently going to have to eat Jesus to be saved and resurrected.
While many Protestant denominations take this symbolically, Catholicism teaches transubstantiation: that when the priest prays over the bread and wine at mass, they really do become Jesus' body and blood.
With this in mind, let's circle back to necromancers:
"Overseas to Corpus. (She likes the word corpus; it sounds nice and fat.)"
This is probably Corpus Christi College, Oxford (named after the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, where the church celebrates the real presence of Jesus in the eucharist). The symbol of the college is a pelican - there's even a fabulously gilded pelican atop the sundial in their main quad.
What do pelicans have to do with the eucharist? Quite a lot, actually... The pelican is a really old symbol for Jesus, because it was believed to feed its young on its own flesh and blood in times of famine. The pelican on the Corpus Christi sundial is pecking at its own chest.
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The pelican, like Jesus, was believed to give its own body to save those it loved.
Okay, so we've talked about Jesus, and weird cannibal birds, but why is this relevant to necromancers?
Specifically, the necromancer, the Necrolord Prime. John Gaius styles himself as "the god who became man", echoing Jesus as "the word became flesh". His entire pastiche of divinity is a sort of bootleg Catholicism. But while Catholicism posits Jesus' offering of his own body as foundational to the salvation and resurrection of humanity to eternal life, John's godhood relies the exploitation of other's bodies as the foundation of an empire of eternal death.
I've mentioned before in discussing Lyctorhood, how vampires have been understood to represent a sort of inversion of the eucharist because instead of consuming Christ's blood to receive eternal life in heaven, they consume other people's blood for an cursed eternal life on earth. John, and the Lyctors who followed him, gained power and eternal life from the consumption, body and soul, of another person.
In Catholic theology, Jesus offered his own body to degradation and death for the eternal salvation of humankind, but John forcibly consumes someone else's in service of his own apotheosis and immortality, dooming humanity in the process. He wants to be a Catholic flavoured god, but without the suffering that entails. But he's perfectly willing to outsource that suffering to others.
There's something just achingly awful about Alecto liking the feel of the word "corpus" - "body" - when she so hates the body that John constructed for her. John describing Alecto as "in a very real way" the mother of humanity and the mother pelican on the Corpus sundial rending her own flesh for her children. John forcing the earth into a personification of femininity and playing Jesus on another's sacrifice. His daughter, unwillingly trapped in her own corpse walking around with the wounds of her significant self-sacrifice like the resurrected Christ but yet again another body exploited by John in support of his performance of godhood. It brings to mind a very different fantastical engagement with Catholicism, where in the Lord of the Rings Tolkien - riffing on St Augustine - suggested that evil cannot create, it can only mock and corrupt. The ethics of The Locked Tomb may be messier than that, but there's something indicative in how John shies away from his creative powers - his abilities to grow plants, and manipulate earth and water - in favour of his dominion over death.
The metaphysical world of The Locked Tomb is clearly not intended to be the same as that of Catholicism. But with hindsight, perhaps John was onto something when he was surprised that he didn't "get the Antichrist bit" from the nun too.
John isn't the Antichrist. But he is, thematically, anti-Christ.
If we're talking about John and Jesus, there's also, of course, the question of Resurrection. But we've got to go through Hell and back before we get there on Sunday...
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noirflms · 1 day
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I WANT TO WHERE HIS INITIAL ( ON A CHAIN ‘ROUND MY NECK, CHAIN ‘ROUND MY NECK ) — jjk men
when you surprise him with his initial on a chain wrapped around your neck. or when the jjk men’s eyes catch sight of their initial looking so pretty wrapped around your neck.
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— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ GOJO SATORU !
he is quick to catch onto the new accessory wrapped around your neck, glistening when the light falls on it, shining on his eyes whenever you turn in a direction that makes light reflect off of it. gojo satoru sees the words ‘S’ sitting so prettily upon your skin, the gold pressed flush as you smile as you serve him with his dinner, but you notice his eyes linger right between you collarbones and looks like your idea worked, as you smirk goes unnoticed by him.
“i knew it. my initial would look so good wrapped around your neck.” he grins proudly, taking the bite of his food as you laugh, “but i think my surname behind your name would be so much better.” and it was done, he will and forever be far ahead of you as you shake your head flustered at his sentence as he smirks and what he says next has you going red.
“it would be nice to see it hanging as i take you from the—”
“SATORU!”
yeah, that was it. it was all the fun you’ll let him have. as you cover your face while trying to tell him to let you eat in peace.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ GETO SUGURU !
he had seen you planning something with gojo and shoko, whispering amongst each other from far away and high fiving one another and shouting out loud. and now that he notices his initials hanging from a chain round you neck, it just does something to him. it makes him go a bit derek on the inside – it makes him go derek with the thought that you belong to him. geto takes a shaky breath as he finds not in him to be able to bear it as he becomes flustered and the tips of his ears go read.
“do you like it, suguru?” you ask innocently blinking at him, oh gosh, you literally have him wreathing under your gaze as he shifts in his chair, face covered with his hands as his eyes are set on the pendant around your neck. “i like it, don’t you?” and he lets out a shaky breath, hands wiping away at his face as he finally looks into your eyes and a lovestruck gaze makes you have butterflies swarming in your stomach.
“it looks so good, princess.” he rasps and you smile. “s-so, um, what if i also wore your initials?” you look at him and he’s suddenly pulling a chain out from his uniform with your initials on it and you almost jump at him – you did – hands wrapping around his neck as he laughs.
ah, such sweet thing love is.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ NANAMI KENTO !
he saw it even before you could have put it around your neck. it was during him going through a serious cleaning session around the house, when he stumbled across the box which had suddenly toppled down form the book shelf of yours and he knows not to pry but he keeps track of what he gets you and this box – he had not got that thing for you at all so who was it?
and so he had opened it and closed it as fast as he could. a chuckle escapes his lips, gosh, you make him so insane about you. and today, when nanami saw you wearing it in the morning, he smiled, the biggest in a while. he sees the ‘K’ sitting so elegantly as the chains wrapped around your neck, letting the word sit right between your collarbones.
“that’s new.” he pries, but he already knew, he just likes seeing you ramble about it. “oh! you like it, ken’?” you question with the sweet smile of yours, eyes sparkling as you stared at him, and he softens as usual and you begin to speak again, “i bought it so i’ll have something telling me you’re there with me, all the time.” and you look at him holding onto the initial, and he knows you’re the one.
and if only life was a bit merciful he would have given you the ring sitting in his pocket, but looks like the gods didn’t want you waiting on such a poised man.
“yuuji…tell her that i’ll always be there.”
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ CHOSO !
he is stunned actually. gosh, you look so good with the chain wrapped around your neck. damn, you are just so pretty for this world. you see him eyeing it, eyes wide as he takes the sight of the accessory in. you almost laugh at his reaction but you were expecting it, but you like the way his face soon morphs into one of embarrassment.
“you like it, baby?” you hum as you intertwine your fingers with his. “now everyone will know i know you better.” he grins in victory, “and it will give a sign that you belong to me.” he laughs like a school girl as you shake your head, such a child you handle. choso presses a kiss to the pendant as you laugh when he sighs against your skin.
“now no one will ever look at you.” he grumbles thinking of the many men he had to glare at when they looked at you, his arms wrapping around your torso tightly. “this. will tell everyone you’re mine.” and you only laugh loudly pulling at his cheeks.
gosh, he really is just a baby.
— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ FUSHIGURO TOJI !
“did you steal that?” it was his first thought. toji is broke, spends his earning on food on a daily basis. so, there is no way there is anyway in the world you could get that gold chain wrapped around your neck that you flaunt at him. you smack his arms as you glare at him, wondering if he forgets you own quite the brand and bougie stuff.
“i bought it.” you state, pulling at his ear as he only looks at it and then back at you. “with my own money.” oh, and his eyes finally fill with realisation that he no more is broke you just give him a particular amount to spend, because you sure are loaded. toji finally takes a better look at it and sees the letter ‘T’ sitting and looking so pretty around your neck, the gold shining like the brightest star in the sky.
“i thought you’d be one for silver.” he says pulling at it softly, tugging and tracing the letter with his calloused fingers. “now you look like i owe you, puppy.” he smirks as you glare at him, but you let him enjoy the moment. “i like it. it will be in my mind, yer all mine.”
you are married to a fool. and you have knows that, but you smile as you see him smile softly when his eyes catch sight of megumi and tsumiki running over to the both of you.
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um 😭😭 okay bye, taylor planted the idea but the words are all mine.
NOIRFLMS 2024 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission.
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mournings-stars · 3 days
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i loved the adam with a fat!reader 🥹 so cute, id love to see lucifer with a reader similar? like maybe shorter like him and a bit on the chubby side 🙏
AHHH THATS SO CUTE
imagine you’re like a chef or baker or something, maybe hellborn, maybe a sinner, and you meet him at an event that he’s just required to go to, so he’s staying by the catering tables and just busying himself with food so he doesn’t have to talk to anyone
“i know it’s a buffet, darlin’, but you’re milking my lil’ supply dry.” and imagine you have the cutest lil accent like maybe it’s southern if you’re hellborn or soft, 50’s movie-type transatlantic if you’re a sinner (i kinda wanna write this now actually so tell me what u prefer…)
first he’d look up, just expecting you to be taller than him, but then he’d look down and see you and immediately try to hand his plate back because how could he take your business for granted when you’re standing right in front of his and so sweet… and beautiful — like he’s not blind, he can see that you’re gorgeous. and if he’s honest the food isn’t good enough to get so many plates, but your restaurant would certainly be popular when you’re the precious little face of it
but he has to stop himself because his thoughts are certainly bordering on rude now, so he’s scrambling to apologize like, “i’m sorry — i see why your food’s so popular now, HAHA, you’re gorgeous — i mean, your food is amazing, but—“
“but?” and then he just shuts up. “no keep going, but what, your majesty?” and he is fumbling, because he can’t tell you he thinks the food is mediocre when he’s been shoving it down his throat all night, but then you say, “i know it’s not my best; they had me here last minute, frettin’ over twenty trays each of my best dishes, which can’t be the best if they’re repeated twenty times,” and even though you’re talking on and on, he’s listening and nodding on and on because because you’re just speaking to him so naturally
“am i talking to much?” “yes — i mean, no! i could listen to you talk all night!”
the rest is literally history, like you tell him to come to your restaurant to see what your cooking is really like, and when he finds out its just a small little restaurant with a couple tables and an old kitchen, he’s amazed because it tastes even better than it did at the event
once he decides to ask you out, and he decides quick, he knows he can’t ask you out to eat, or to an event, or to his house, or to the movies, or—
“you wanna get somethin’ to eat sometime?” and you’re literally asking him before he can even think to ask. “maybe you could cook for me?” you suggest slyly and he’s too flustered to say anything so he just nods. “i’ll make sure i dress fancy for you then, majesty.” and this man is MELTING
and if there’s one thing he learns about you that night its that you are not insecure about anything — your first conversation of you doubting your cooking skills might’ve made him think otherwise, but now he knows it’s just not the case
and you have no reason to be insecure; about your cooking, about anything — hell, you look amazing all dolled up just to come to his home for his 8-minute spaghetti… at least he made homemade meatballs. and those were pretty good! you even complimented them, which gave him a very much needed ego boost to get through the night confidently
and when his confidence finally shows, you’re sure he’s what you want, so you don’t bother taking your time with leading up to kisses or anything past that. you take what you want, with permission, and give him what he wants
and he loves it about you, like, you’re so sure of yourself, confident, and carry yourself with so much charm that people just step out of your way, even with your short stature, which he also loves about you — it’s nice having someone shorter around for once, but he’d definitely shape-shift and let himself be shorter than you for a day or so if you wanted
along those lines, he would give you any and everything you wanted. even if you didn’t ask, he’d give it to you — he’ll get you a new restaurant, new equipment, appliances… hell, he’ll even get you a new apartment… that is, if you don’t move in with him
and he would ask, a million times he’d ask because he just loves being with you that much. whenever you come over, or he goes to your place, he’s stuck to you. he watches you cook, helps if you let him — he bakes! he can bake, but of course he finds out you can too, and he insists you’re much better, but you insist that you do it together since this was much less dangerous than letting him rummage through your spice cabinet
if he’s not helping you, he’s hugging you from behind and watching what you do, hands running all over you, feeling the soft plush of your thighs and hips, your stomach, anything you’ll let him touch which he kisses your cheeks and neck and shoulders — literally anything you’ll let him do because he just loves listening to your precious laughter as he loves on you, or your sighs when he marks your neck or shoulder
this man LOVES lying with his head on your lap or in between your thighs. literally anything to do with your thighs or resting his head on your stomach, like, he’s fully back in heaven
he also loves you on top of him, straddling him while you comb your fingers through his hair, legs across his lap as you read, cuddled up to him as you watch a movie or sleep, he can’t get enough of you
and don’t get me started on the nsfw like… head between your legs all fucking day, squeeze his head with your thighs — like actually do it because he will come undone
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ynbabe · 2 days
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Hii, could you do a part two of "bite me"? I love reading these types of stories <33
Bloody red ୨୧ Charles Leclerc x Reader- Vampire AU
| Part 1 | Heyyy y'all- I'M BACK!!! Okay so reader is at the end for this but I promise y'all will love this- it's Charles, how could one not? Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you wanna see next! REQUESTS ARE OPEN.
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Charles could almost throw up from the sight in front of him, he was exaggerating of course but it was close.
A large spread of food- human food. The drivers had all gone out to celebrate, he didn't know what, maybe it was a pity meal after the absolute mess in Australia. He hoped so, looking at how George and Logan looked- faces pale, eyes dark, looking like they could throw up.
Across from him Fernando hadn't touched the food and was sipping on his suspiciously red win, Lance sat to his right and Checo to his left. He spoke animatedly to the Red Bull driver in fast and whispered Spanish and Lance gossiped, loud (for the vampire) in French to Esteban, who seemed equally engrossed in what the Canadian was saying.
Charles swallowed thickly, it wasn't as if he couldn't eat human food it was just that it tasted bland and quite frankly gross to him and Fernando, whom he still suspected to be a vampire. How could he not? That man was surprisingly fit for a man of 40... not that 40 was old.
He fiddled with the spaghetti on his plate but finally gave in an shoved it in his mouth, swallowing like it pained him to do so.
When he looked back up, he saw Fernando staring at him, with a look on his face that Charles couldn't for the life of him figure out. So he decided to torture that old man, why not?
"The food's nice isn't it Nando?" He asked, pulling the table's attention to the two, he smirked as he saw the older man's eyes widen for a second before he regained composure and smiled- no smirked back.
"Yes, yes, it is," he replied, his accent thick, "You don't seem to have eaten much though, not to your taste?" he stressed the last word in an insinuating manner, the meaning lost on all others who were listening in, but he knew, he knew that he knew that he knew- okay this was getting confusing.
"Oh no, I like it, your plate has been empty though?" This was fun, Fernando shook his head and returned to his wine, everyone on the table seemed to have moved on, other than a few prying eyes, unknown to the two drivers.
As the night went on the herd began to thin, as most of the younger drivers- Max, Lando, Oscar (on Lando's insistence, which consisted of him dragging the poor boy out with him,) Zhou, Pierre, Alex, Carlos, Yuki and of course, Daniel had decided to go clubbing. Nico, Kevin, Checo, Valtteri and Esteban had returned to their hotels, tired of the weekend and its festivities.
Left at the table were Fernando and Lance, who seemed to be having a hushed conversation, too soft even for his ears, George and Logan, who seemed to be slightly panicked about something and Lewis who was paying the bill, but just as he was done, he nodded at Fernando in some sort of silent agreement and headed out, patting the drivers in his way, including Charles, on the back and gracing the others with a small wave.
The Aston-Martin driver's conversation finally ends, the younger man laughing at something Nando said as he gets up from the chair and walks away.
Then suddenly, all Fernando's attention is on Charles, unwavering, eyes like a hunter on his prey, "You know," he says nonchalantly, leaning back, "and you know that I know," his eyes still piercing into his own, "So what are we going to do about it?"
Charles knows there's no real danger, after all, he couldn't hurt him without having his secret out, right? Regardless he's terrified, but he's also a gutsy, annoying little shit, so he responds in kind.
"Nothing," and bares his fangs, sipping his own cup of wine, it actually was just wine. He felt pride as Fernando's face morphed into shock.
"This... this I did not expect," he surrendered, hands in the air, "but, I am not unhappy," he smiled, baring his fangs back the monegasque.
Somewhere further along the long table, they were seated at, something clattered, making the two vampires turn their necks at breakneck speeds, well for humans at least.
"What... the fuck!" The American cursed, the tall Brit ext to him equally shocked, his jaw locked shut.
Oh god, how could they forget about them? They were truly screwed now.
"George, think about this-" he began but he was cut off by him opening his pursed mouth which let a small stream of blood dribble out.
Before he had a chance to think the American opened his mouth, teeth- no fangs, stained red. They lifted the small metal decanter they had been drinking from throughout the dinner, he'd just assumed it was alcohol.
"Okay then, " Nando sighed and chugged from his glass of what he now knew was blood. He motioned for the two boys to come closer and they looked around before speeding to sit next to the older man, George where Lance was once seated and Logan where Esteban was.
All he could do was stare, "W-who? What?" slipped out his mouth before he could stop it.
"Well, I was turned very long ago," Fernando confessed.
"How long?" He asked,
"Let's just say Formula was as interesting in the '50s," he smiled, making the three younger men exclaim in various degrees of disbelief.
"That's- impossible, what?" Logan called out, clearly shocked.
"You're a vampire and that's what you think is impossible?" George sassed.
"Yeah? And whose fault is that?" Logan snarked back, using an unused baguette to smack the taller blonde across the head making him hiss in reply.
"Well, I was going to ask who turned you but I guess that's answered," Fernando said, looking at the younger boys.
"Wait, who turned you, George?" Charles asked.
"Lewis, he didn't mean to... it just kind of happened," the boy shrugged.
"And you, Predestinado?" Nando asked, ever theatrical but Charles was a little ashamed now.
"I- uh, I don't know actually," He replied making the other three look at him in concern.
"It happened at a club and I've been feeding off my girlfriend, ever since..." he let out and watched as Logan and George moved closer to each other and Nando sighed.
"Y/n, yes? She's a good kid, Charli, try not to hurt her, this life... it is not an easy one, you know," he warned but the look in his eyes told Charles he was speaking from experience.
----------------------------------------------------
The door opened just as you had dozed off, tired of waiting for Charles.
"Y/n, belle, are you awake, Cheri?" he whispered as he walked into the expensive hotel room.
You startled awake, immediately smiling at your boyfriend. He laid next to you and you moved to let yourself burrow into his arms, head on his chest. At first the lack of a heart beat scared you , but now it was almost comforting, knowing the the sounds you heard were your blood running through his veins.
"Bebe, you will not belive who else is a Vampire," he started off, making you awaken more properly than before.
"There's more of you?" you questioned in shock, leading to perhaps the most important gossip session of your life.
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ryanmarshallryan · 3 days
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I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!
I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.
DIET BACKFIRED
I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.
I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.
Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”
“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”
“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.
“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.
After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.
“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.
“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.
“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.
“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.
Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”
After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.
Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.
“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”
I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.
Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”
In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.
“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.
“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”
“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”
Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.
As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.
“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.
“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”
“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.
“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”
“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.
“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.
I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”
Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.
“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.
“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”
“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”
“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.
I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.
Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.
I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.
I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.
“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.
“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’
My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”
“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”
“But why would you -”
“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.
“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”
“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.
I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”
“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.
“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.
“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”
“And what have you discovered?”
“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.
“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”
“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”
I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?
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viperwhispered · 3 days
Text
Rest
Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.
At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 
However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.
You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.
So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.
It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.
At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.
“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.
Of course.
It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.
You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.
“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.
“Yes.”
“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”
“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.
Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.
“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.
Really, when did he get so tired?
And how did you not notice it earlier?
You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.
Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.
You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.
Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.
Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.
Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.
“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”
“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.
Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.
But sometimes you really wish it would be.
Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.
Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.
“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”
You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.
“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”
Still, Jamil frowns.
You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?
“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.
And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.
“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.
It seems he has accepted his fate.
You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.
And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.
Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!
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pathetic and sad and depressed leon thoughts cause he’s a dumb fuckin loser who should die (i would do anything he told me) erm… this is also my first post so… bare with me
cw/tw: olderbf!leon(age gap not specified), erectile dysfunction(i know, not my fault he’s a pathetic traumatised mf…), suicidal ideation, nsfw after read more, slight misogyny, porn addiction, choking kink, reader has afab anatomy, nonchalant leon…
would definitely thrash and cry in his sleep sometimes, the amount of horror and gore he’s experienced first hand wouldn’t be taken away just cause he has a pretty thing like you to love.
i feel like he’s always so detached and constantly disassociating that whenever you try to initiate something, anything at all, he just sort of does it out of inertia, just so you can get the relief you want.
he’d be rubbing lazy circles on your clit as you cling and squirm against him, as he has you all nuzzled into his chest with his arm under your head.
but that fucker is probably thinking about something else entirely, he’s just glad you haven’t gotten sick of him yet. how you still so desperately seek his love and validation.
sex doesn’t excite him anymore, sure, he needs to stick his cock in something warm and wet from time to time, but he’s fucked so much in his youth that he doesn’t even see the appeal of it anymore. not to mention the porn addiction he had…
hours on end, just spent in front of magazines, or shitty cassette tapes, that were so old and fucking beat that he’d have to fix them himself in order to not have the whore’s moans sound like they’re from within the depths of hell because the cassette would play in slow motion.
how he’d gotten so desensitised to anything that had to do with sex, that at one point he needed to start reading erotica, just to get his dick hard. he’d just sit on the shitty mattress of the floor of the apartment he was supposed to call “home” , while watching the TV playing porn, like it was some fuckin’ game show.
so it doesn’t come as a surprise, at least to him, that with the years, he doesn’t find pleasure in sex, or anything at all really.
but when he sees such a pretty thing like you, so pathetic and constantly begging him to be pounded, guilt would just wash over him, saying to himself that “it’s the least i could do for the fuckin’ world, right?”
so again, he’d have you under him, peppering wet kisses on your neck, or choking you sometimes. how he’d wish to actually snap your fragile neck at times, it didn’t help when your skin would turn slightly pale, it was almost like it was doing something for him, but he decided to ignore it.
his aging, and the shitty way he had lived up until the time you met him, and even as he’s with you, doesn’t attenuate the fact that his “stupid fuckin’ useless cock” doesn’t even wanna work anymore. he feels so pathetic and helpless. he’d rather jump off a bridge, the sound of his body weight reverberating on cold harsh concrete, as his corpse splays out in a million fuckin’ particles as it hits the ground, leaving behind just a burgundy mess of what was once your “handsome old man” , than have to explain to you that he doesn’t wanna fuck, his dick doesn’t work.
he just tries to be grateful for what he has, at least you cook good food. he’ll keep attending to your needs, eating you out, buying you toys, fiddling with your clit, he’ll keep pretending for his “pretty girl”.
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jazzyquarterblugs · 2 days
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𝐏𝐏𝐓𝐉: 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
Time to show ya'll the Altercanons for The Smiling Critters!! :D
(I have already looong posted them on my twitter but again for the Tumblr peeps I will post them here! :3)
From Oldest to Youngest!
Enjoy!
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Bubba Bubbaphant!
The smart and probably the most mentally stable one out of the bunch (more on that later-) being the oldest isn't really easy when you've got 7 younger friends most of which love to go on rowdy fun adventures, nonetheless he is always with them every step of the way whenever he can! (Mostly because he needs to keep them from accidentally getting themselves killed 💀)
His Talent
Bubba is capable of creating balls of light and is able to change the intesity of light sources around him, in combat he can create lightbulb shaped items and throw them at to flashbang opponents, disorienting them and giving him the advantage, though this uses up his own energy and so he needs to think carefully about how many he creates, or else he will likely pass out.
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KickinChicken!
The self-proclaimed cool guy of the critters. An daredevil who's always put looking for ways to have a lil fun, all the while making Bubba slowly lose his patience 😅 even though he may come off as an arrogant jerk to others, Kickin actually cares a lot about his friends and others more than he likes to admit! Just don't get on his nerves or he will make your life a living hell whenever given the chance!
His Talent
He can whip out three items of his choosing, whether it'd be a simple screwdriver or a flat out atomic bomb, all of which seem to follow a common theme 💀 though he is only lmited to three wishes and after using them all up he'd have to wait for an one hour cooldown before he can create more items again.
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CatNap!
Not a very talkative critter, neither is he really stable in ANY WAY to begin with, he went suddenly missing once for 3 whole weeks and came back never the same, for 9 whole months has he never ate, drank or even slept, and it's only a matter of time before one day he finally collapses in on himself...
His...Talent???...
He is able create sleep-inducing red smoke, making whoever is nearby inhale it and fall into a Deep Sleep... (it doesn't kill them dn)
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DogDay!
The leader of The Smiling Critters! And CatNap's best friend! This lovely sunshine is always ready for an adventure and bring a smile to everyone's faces no matter who they are! He is always standing up for what's right, willing to put his friends before himself.
His Talent?
His body glows a range of red to yellow whenever experiencing intense emotions, the hue and the temperature of his body depending on how intense the feeling is, if it is too intense his body is capable of burning the skin off of anybody who attempts to touch him.
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PickyPiggy!
The nature-loving and diet obsessed one of the group, she absolutely loves the wonders of mother nature, even owning an vegetable garden herself! She loves to eat but always makes sure she stays healthy when doing so! Though sometimes she is so entranced by eating food that she often forgets to keep up with the others and finds herself confused, she always feels like she has an reputation to uphold considering her father is a well-known cook in Critterville, to make things even less easy she has 12 younger brothers to take care of!
Her Talent
She is able to take and storage items within an infinite pocket dimension like a personal inventory in her pockets, though she needs to have actualy pockets for this to work, luckily she knows how to sew!
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Hoppy Hopscotch!
The physically active one of the group! And DogDay's beloved little sister! This rambunctious lil rabbit is willing to take on a challenge if it means having fun! Though she is really accident prone so she often gets herself hurt! (Pretty frequently actually-) but even so she doesn't know how to back down! While impatient and loud, she is happy to protect her friends from danger!
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CraftyCorn!
The shy and soft-spoken one! She's pretty timid but has an incredible creative side to her! She loves to create all kinds of art but most specifically loves to draw! Even though she may not have had the best first start of her life, but after moving into Bubba's home and becoming part of The Smiling Critters, she realizes she feels right at home.
Her Talent
She is able to mend and shape paint however and whatever she wants it to be! Whether it is colorful wings of freedom or another way to paint, she needs to have paint at her disposal though.
She is also capable of magic of her own! But due to her previous living conditions she was never able to tap into her gift and discover the wonders of unicorn magic all that much, though luckily Bubba has enrolled her to equestrian classes to help her with that problem! <)
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Bobby Bearhug!
The sweetest and youngest one out of the group! She was found alone outside near the Critters' treehouse, ever since then Bubba has taken her under his wing and has been taking care of her since, it is unknown what happened to her parents it has been assumed that they had just abandoned her.
Her Talent
She is able to sense the true intentions of a person's heart, helping her know who is worthy of trust or not, she is also able to sense the emotions of an individual though this can be physically and even mentally exhausting, making her needing to take frequent naps to gain her energy back.
Aaaand that is all I have for today!
I hoped you enjoy these Altercanons and if you have any questions regarding them or this AU feel free to ask in my ask box! :3
(repeat users are okay btw!)
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lowkeyrobin · 1 day
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Hello, I really love your writing! It's amazing!
May I please request mcyts (Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo specifically but if you want to do others go ahead!) with a reader who has a neglectful mom? Like if she frequently abandoned/left reader and made reader make/pay for all their food?
If you don't want to and/or uncomfortable with writing it, I don't mind! Only write what you are comfortable with!
P.S if you do write it may I be ❤️‍🩹 anon?
oooo yeah sure! ; and welcome to the hotel, enjoy your stay! ; I apologize that this is so short, I've had horrible writers block recently
BENCH TRIO ; neglectful mother
includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo & ranboo
warnings ; language, talk about neglectful parents and emotional neglect/abuse
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
his mom is your mom now
mrs simons would actually die for you bro, she will protect you like no other
can't come over? Tommy's texting you the whole time, too bad
he's one, scared for you, two, trying to make sure you're eating whether you're cooking or buying
lots and lots of hugs
he knows he can't really relate but he and his family will do their best to fill in the empty holes in your life
mrs simons takes you on trips and walks and even to the store with them. she's your gaurdian angel istg
Tommy is just always making sure you're happy and okay
you need to talk? open up then. he is ALWAYS here for you, no matter what
if you're having a rough day, you'll be watching meet the robinsons and big hero 6 💯💯💯💯
TUBBO
RANBOO
have no food? he'll add you some food to his order and he'll come over with it or send it to your place and come over
lots of him just reassuring you that things will get better and he'll help you through life bc your mom obviously doesn't want too
you guys often cook together because he only eats takeout and you need to cook for yourself
you guys send out "party invites" on your snap stories to come to your place when your moms gone
parties as in a bunch of friends come over for a sleepover
you know your mom well enough that she won't be back for a couple days
he takes you everywhere he goes + you and Becky try to teach him how to drive every once in a while
making the most out of pocket jokes about your situation on stream 💀
need a place to stay? they're open
they probably send you cooking recipes because seeing you make the same 5 things literally kills them inside
he's always checking up on you to make sure you're okay, and doesn't mind being the therapist friend
his parents are your parents now, they're so fucking sweet, esp his mom
she literally sends you gifts and cookbooks and self help books 💔
you have a whole shelf and it's 90% cookbooks and recipe books, from full meals to snacks, deserts, etc
your mom not ask you how your day was? don't worry cause they're asking
literally any life skill you'd need, they taught you and you couldn't thank them enough 🫶
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mzv11 · 3 days
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Cobra 9 🐍
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Character: Blaze Silva x Damian Priest
Warning: Language & Angst
Word Count: 1.7K
A/N: Ooh y’all about to hate Quinn even more. I use their real names and once they are at work, I'll go back to their ring names.
Catch Up: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
“I’m happy because we finally decided on a song to go with the parade. I can’t wait to work with Paola and the team on choreo. You know choreography is my passion. Mama sent food. How was work?” Blaze laughed as Quinn immediately took the plate from the fridge and put it into the microwave. “Yes sweetheart, I know how you love to dance. I’m actually surprised you don’t do more of it in the ring. Well, play the music for me. Work was fine.” Quinn smiled. He loved her enthusiasm but he didn’t speak a lick of Portuguese and hadn’t bothered to learn after all these years, but he knew it made her happy. Blaze played the song, her hips swaying to the music. Quinn tried to keep up with her, but dancing was never something he excelled at. “That’s all you. You gonna try to be the naked girl this year? I mean…the drum girl? Whatever the hell it’s called.” He asked as he sat at the kitchen counter to eat. “No, I’m much too busy for that now. I’ll be happy to just be in the march.” Blaze shrugged, walking away to triple check her packing. 
6 A.M.
“I’ll see you whenever you get back. Don’t break yourself.” Quinn muttered to a stirring Blaze as he left for work. “I’ll be back Tuesday afternoon. Don’t break yourself.” She mumbled, grabbing his hand and kissing it before he pulled away to leave. Hearing his truck pull out of the driveway, Blaze rolled over and went back to sleep for a little while longer. Thankfully, she didn’t have much to do before going to the airport. She had been slowly sifting through items obtained during her 15-year relationship with Quinn. She packed up some of the forgotten items and put them into the trunk of her car. A quick jog around the neighborhood and a quick shower and Blaze was ready to head to her father’s garage. Her phone pinged, a text from Damian as she finished her smoothie. “Good morning beautiful, how was your jog? Please tell me that you’re all packed.” he asked. “I was packed yesterday before dinner!” Blaze text back. She was very much a procrastinator but once she established a healthy collection of black and purple attire, packing was easy.
“Good morning Daddy, do you want coffee?” she texted Damian but it was mean for her father. “So I’m Daddy now? 😏 I’d love some coffee.” he texted back with a bunch of laughing emojis. “OH GOD NO!!!” Blaze grumbled as she sat in traffic. She called Luis immediately, he was laughing so hard that he couldn’t even say hello. “I’d rather you call me Papi.” he laughed. “Ohmigod Luis get over yourself! Well, since I asked, what do you want from Starbucks?” Blaze laughed. “We both want the Ethiopian blend. I’m at the shop hanging out with Pops. He’s talking me into something for the car.” Luis laughed. “Ooh…how about the archer with an arrow along the side instead of the racing stripe?” Blaze said “Oh…now I like the way my kid thinks.” Inacio said from the background. Blaze made her coffee run and headed to her dad’s garage. “There’s my Princesa. You look stunning as usual.” Inacio smiled as he kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Thanks Dad. I see you got your new bestie.” Blaze whispered as she handed him his coffee. “Future son-in-law, I’m putting it out into the atmosphere,” he laughed. “I know Mama is up to her tricks. I feel it in my spirit that she’s somewhere scheming up a honey jar.” Blaze laughed. Inacio laughed, they knew Nyeemah all too well.
Blaze turned around to see Luis eating her muffin. “Yo…what the hell?!” she groaned. “I left you half. I see the abs forming, just trying to help.” he laughed. “You see the gains!” Blaze laughed. “I’m gonna take y’all to the airport. Luis is gonna let me tinker with his toy this weekend.” Inacio laughed. “Oh god. Please keep it street legal.” Blaze frowned as Luis grabbed her bags from the trunk of her car. “Moving out?” he asked about the boxes. “Kinda. I’ll explain later.” she smiled as she climbed into the backseat of her dad’s truck. “Thanks for the ride, sir.” Luis said as he climbed out and opened the door for Blaze. “Thanks Daddy, love you.” Blaze kissed her father on the cheek and got out. “You know I’m not going to let you live for calling me Daddy.” Luis teased as they breezed through TSA Precheck. “I’d rather you not let me walk.” Blaze winked, grabbing her bags and walking off towards their gate. “Take it easy, Diosa.” he growled. “Don’t you growl at me!” Blaze growled back. “And what are you gonna do to stop me?” He flirted. “Now who needs to take it easy?! Listen Papi, I know I am so fuckin irresistible but I have a man.” Blaze laughed as they walked. “So damn irresistible, and FUCK QUINN.” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her, suddenly remembering that they were in public. “Luis, Blazer…que pasa?!” Fergal exclaimed as he hugged Blaze and dapped Luis up. “Blaze’s parents want us to come over for dinner. I went last night and somebody has been holding out on us that they can bake.” Luis laughed, nodding in Blaze’s direction. 
“Blazer…you bake?” Fergal asked. “I’m much more than a pretty face. I’m a super interesting person.” She laughed as she sat down in the area Fergal and Dom had commandeered for them. “I owe the Queen Bee breakfast since I ate half her muffin. What do you want?” Luis asked. “Since I need to start cutting weight…protein…but I really want a breakfast burrito.” Blaze laughed. “Get this woman a brekkie burrito!” Fergal laughed as he and Luis went to find breakfast. “Fuego Mami…what’s good? Where’s Luis?” Dom asked, flopping down in the seat next to her with his breakfast burrito. “Securing my breakfast. He owes me.” Blaze mumbled. “Oh…shit…it finally happened?! Nice! Bout damn time!” Dom admitted. “What finally happened?!” Blaze asked. “Huh?! Nuthin.” Dom laughed nervously, Luis was going to kill him if Blaze didn’t first. “Dom…SPILL!” Blaze growled, pinching his arm. “He should be the one to tell you!” Dom grumbled. “Ohh…that he likes me? He hasn’t said it…but I know. I like him too. Still trying to navigate the boyfriend situation.” Blaze laughed. “Oooh…I knew it! Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I haven’t met your boyfriend but Luis hates him and Demi hates him. And that’s enough for me.” He shrugged, putting his head on her shoulder and sinking down in the seat to eat his food.
Luis and Fergal waited at the breakfast counter for Blaze’s food. “So…what’s going on big guy? You look extra happy this morning. She spend the night or something?” Fergal teased. “We’ve kissed a couple times.” Luis mumbled nonchalantly. “Oh shite man! You’ve come a long way from resenting her.” Fergal laughed as the flirty woman behind the counter handed Luis a container. “Thanks. The attraction has always been there cuz…I mean, look at the material. She’s gorgeous. She’s a cocky little brat. But the minute I heard her crying on the phone with her boyfriend…I wanted to save her. The more I learn, she doesn’t need me to save her, she’s saving herself in her own way. I’m just here for whatever she needs…like breakfast.” he smiled as they walked back.
Dom sat scrolling through TikTok, Blaze had just gotten a text from her best friend Marika.
Marika: Hey chica! What time is your flight?
Blaze: In like an hour. I got through the TSA line much faster than I thought. I just ordered breakfast while I’m waiting for the guys to get here.
Marika: And when will you be back in town?
Blaze: I’ll be back in town on Tuesday. We need to go kick it next weekend. Or we can have a girls weekend at the house, Q will be in Atlanta.
Blaze had a sneaking suspicion that Marika would be with Quinn in Atlanta. 
Marika: I have a Herbalife regional meetup next weekend in Tampa. ☹️
Blaze: Ok then boss lady! What about lunch Wednesday after my workout?
Marika: Perfect! Have a safe flight, text me later. Can’t wait to see tonight’s outfit, you’ve been bringing heat these past few weeks.
“We have until Tuesday. I don’t think she suspects anything.” Marika said as she cuddled up next to Quinn in bed. “I should’ve picked you instead of her back then. She couldn’t even give me a child.” Quinn sighed, rubbing Marika’s belly. She was almost 12 weeks along. “Don’t do that. She was devastated that she lost the baby. She still isn’t over it. Seeing me like this will only make things harder for her…especially if she ever finds out who the daddy is.” Marika spoke sadly. She knew that Quinn had no plans of leaving Blaze, the optics of them together were too perfect. His parents wanted him to marry a good woman from a good family. Quinn loved Blaze, but he loved Marika too. If he could find a way to have them both, he would.
“Has me bringing you breakfast become our thing?” Luis smiled as he handed Blaze the container from the cafe. “Yep. You’ve spoiled me once and now you can’t stop. I won’t know how to act without it. Thank you.” Blaze smiled, dramatically batting her eyelashes at him. “How come her burrito so much bigger than mine?” Dom groaned looking at the size of Blaze’s monster burrito taking up the entire styrofoam container. “The girl making it was trying to flirt with the big guy…he was absolutely oblivious because he only has eyes for a certain redheaded beauty.” Fergal teased. “Luis, Becky is married with a kid!” Blaze laughed. “That’s not who he’s talking about brat!” Luis laughed, handing Blaze a ton of napkins and utensils. “I know that! Luis…get your ass over here and help me eat this! She obviously wanted her big, strong man to have a full belly. Oh look…she even wrote her phone number in the container! Big Damian Priest energy is in full effect!” Blaze teased as he grabbed the other fork and sat down on the other side of her. “Dom-Dom…they've been kissing! He was even about to kiss her when they walked up.” Fergal laughed. “WHAT?! And here I was worried that I spilled to her that he liked her. Remember when this used to be a proper family that communicated? I miss those days.” he laughed.
Tag Squad: @southerngirl41 @wrestlingprincess80 @alichesmi @claymorexpunisher @tribalchiefreigns @romanreignkisser @romanreignseater @papireigns-05 @babiidee28 @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @alyyaanna @po3ticb3auty @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @miyuhpapayuh @vebner37 @reci1996 @marvel1995 @annoyedkayah2395 @cyberdejos2 @jeyusos-girl @acknowledge-reigns @msbluehaz3 @msbigredmachine @thesamoanqueen @90sbaby93 @brie-mode-activated @love-islike-abomb @queenofspade @racerchix21 @pitlissa22 @loki69zowens
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banes-favourite · 2 days
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I for one would love to hear about Enver’s fucked up relationship with food
tw for dead dove!! not just food, i mention extreme abuse. pls don't read ahead if you're easily triggered.
Ok so I headcanon that he grew up nearly always hungry. Like, he was living in poverty for the first years of his life and his parents didn't particularly like him, so I think there came a time where they just kind of left him to care for himself and, as expected, scavenging for food at 6 years old isn't exactly the healthiest way for a kid to grow. I imagine he stole a lot or traded whatever he could make for gold or just loaves of bread. He went to bed hungry a lot of times, but he managed, and even though his belly wasn't always full, he survived.
HoH, though?? That's a whole other can of worms. I think he was really mistreated there, especially with food. I just bet he was teased with the banquet table a lot, banned from taking anything on it even though it was always full. I headcanon that they just gave the prisoners a mix of leftovers/rotten food (writing a fic about this actually) like once a day which obviously wasn't enough for him, so he was definitely malnourished methinks.
I bet at one point he tried to steal food from the table but they definitely noticed so he was punished by being locked up and starved for like, 2-3 tendays. It got bad, to the point he was just curled up on the floor by the end of it, too hungry and tired to move or do much of anything. He probably resorted to catching one of the rats in his cell and had to force himself to eat it (it didn't help, he vomited it back up) or like, he tried eating his clothes or the hay in his bedroll,, I'm talking really desperate.
(also i have a scene of like, the first time he was sexually assaulted was in the hoh, where in his first days there they'd just forgotten to feed him and another prisoner took advantage of that by using him in exchange for food. it was the first time he learned sex can be used as currency)
Anyway, all of this to say his relationship with food is so fucking complicated I couldn't possibly put it into words cause I'm not experienced enough on the effects of this. So if you have any thoughts at all I'd love to hear them!!
In my very unprofessional opinion, I do think the moment he gathered enough money to eat comfortably, like have his first real normal meal after HoH, he definitely cried of joy. But the mindset of 'you could starve at every moment' definitely stayed with him, to the point he ended up hoarding food and going hungry bc 'I'll need this when things get really bad'. I think he has his ups and lows, like if he's relatively okay in general he has his 3 square meals a day plus a lil fruit, but then he goes on these long days-long tangents of only working where he settles comfortably into the hunger cause he's lived his whole life with it. He's barely affected by it and it's definitely not healthy
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hyperfixat · 11 hours
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hey!! I really love ur blog so so much rn! If you can, I'd like to request a neurodivergent MC? One that has certain foods they hate and have never told anyone since their family had forced them to try them since they were little? (Ex. Cauliflower, brussel sprouts, blueberries, bananas, carrots) and so, one day, when theyre all eating (at the HoL or just out) and they notice MC eating all but those foods on their plate? Sorry if this is a bit too specific, I just really can't write it properly for myself and i would like to have some form of comfort-
Anyway, have an amazing day!!
anon i am holding you so close rignt now this cured my writers block this is the first ask i’ve got in like two months TT 
i am incapable of writing anything not hurt comfort so there is some ‘oh man im so sad :(‘ at the beginning but yk if u said u like my writing i imagine u kinda expected this
warning for mentions of throw up and actually eating the bad foods :(
and yes yes yes i love writing explicitly nd mcs!! i added in another obstacle to the req; freaky demon food bcs thats always fun to consider. That way u can kinda make the demon food similar to whatever food u want in ur mind, anyhow, the words u wanted;
/
You push the pile of purple (purple!?) mashed… something from one corner of your plate to the center.  First you had to go to a strange demon school where all of your peers are so much scarier and larger than you and now you’ve been presented with whatever the hell this is for dinner.
You think Leviathan (Levi — it feels so odd referring to him so casually having just met him) was the one that made it.  There was a protein on the plate, you ate that with no issues, but. 
Urgh. This?
It’s your second night sleeping in the House of Lamentation and you don’t feel nearly comfortable or safe enough to get a snack on your own, especially at night. You’ve had such a long day at RAD and your body is dying for some food.
Disguising your disgusted reluctance with a carefully blank face, your grab some of the.  The stuff. 
Ah, nope.  You set your fork down quietly after taking a slow bite / swallow and grab your cup to drown the leftover flavors and textures.  
Luckily all the demon brothers seem pretty into their dinnertime banter and didn’t notice your… less than satisfactory reaction to the food.
Gosh, you don’t want to offend any of them, especially not so early on in the year you’ll have to room with them.  
It’s a good thing that Beelzebub is practically a food vacuum and doesn’t question the nearly untouched pile of. Well you know. Left over on your plate.
/
…It’s official. You hate Devildom cuisine.  
Is the universe playing one big, cruel joke on you?  What the hell is wrong with demons?  Why must the eat the worst things in the world?  Why… why… why?
Lucifer wouldn’t let you starve under his roof, and provides you with full meals and makes it clear what parts of the kitchen are free to raid (as not to take anything designated to anyone else).  You feel like the most ungrateful human in the whole wide world right now.
It’s been quite a few months since the start of the exchange program and you’ve been… getting by.  Okay, that’s not exactly true, you’ve been having a blast in most aspects of your stay in the Devildom.  Most.
There’s still the teeny tiny issue of the cuisine not quite fitting your tastes.  You’ve tried talking to Solomon about the Devildom cuisine and he tried to cheer you up with some authentic human world cuisine, but as it turns out his cooking is far worse than Devildom-style food.
Not to be dramatic, but you’re suffering in silence.  You get by, as in you’re not hungry – the demons you’ve grown oh so fond of wouldn’t let that happen.  They always seem willing to fetch you anything.  
You’re trying so hard not to hurt any feelings, because you love them and want to support them.  It’s just.  You want to throw up almost every meal.  (Barbatos’ little treats have been your saving grace – he always seems to have some yummy little snack on him.  One that you like and doesn’t make you feel like your throat is crawling out of your mouth.)
Most of the time the brothers don’t pay much thought to what you leave on your plate – as long as you eat some of what was served they seem content.  Even on nights where the meal is more nasty than good, it’s easy to just say you’re not that hungry.
This night was bound to happen at some point.  Your plate is uneatable.  It’s edible, just uneatable.  It’d be more humiliating to choke down a few bites than it is to go to bed hungry.  You wrinkle your nose when you think no one is looking and stab at the meat chunk.
Your eyes are downcast and you drag your knife lazily through the food.  It’s mesmerizing in a way, so much so that you don’t notice at first when Asmo calls your name.
“MC, is something wrong? Are you feeling alright?”  At this point he’s drawn the attention of his brothers as well.
“Yeah, you’re barely eating,” Mammon supplies.
Ah, the moment you’ve been dreading and hoped you would never have to face.
“Oh, I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”  Which certainly isn’t a lie.  
“You didn’t eat much at lunch, hon.” Asmo reaches across the table to put the back of his manicured hand on your forehead to feel for a fever.
You cringe, “uhm, well.  I’m.”  You fail to think of a decent lie quick enough – nothing you say will be believable as you mentally blue screen.
“Honest answer?”  Satan prods.
“I’m not the biggest fan of some Devildom foods.” “Not the biggest fan?”  Beel questions, “you dislike them enough to forgo eating entirely.”  
“I’m trying not to sound like an ungrateful jerk right now.  Give me a moment to word this properly.”
Satan scoffs. “Just say it.  Whatever you have to say can’t be worse than what we’ve put you through.”
“Damn, okay.  The food makes me wanna throw up when I eat it.”
Levi, the chef of the night, folds in on himself, face darkening with shame or embarrassment.
“It’s not a personal gripe, most meals have something that makes me feel that way, hon.” It seems your attempt to comfort him isn’t appreciated though, as Levi shoves his face in his hands.
Lucifer sets his fork down. “And why haven’t you said anything to any of us about this?  We want you to feel at home here.”
“You can’t expect me to be comfortable barging into what was at the time a strangers house and demand they make special accommodations for me, then once I was comfortable enough to say something I felt I put up with it long enough that it’d be odd to bring it up out of nowhere.”
“Fair enough,” Satan nods along.
“No? Not ‘fair enough’!” Mammon scolds.  “You shoulda said something to me!  Do you even like half the snacks I give you?  I spent good Grimm on those!”
Memories of bribing Beelzebub to do certain errands in the earlier days of your Devildom stay flicker through your mind.  “They got eaten.”
“MC,” Lucifer brings the conversation back on track.  “Let us know foods you don’t want to eat, we may be demons, but we’re here to provide you with a comfortable stay.”  You nod under his sincere gaze.  “Now, give your plate to Beel and order some delivery.  I’ll cover the costs, as long as you eat.”  
As you shove your plate across the table you see Lucifer pulling a shiny black card from his coat pocket.  He gestures for you to come and take it.  You walk to the head of the table and he presses the card into your hand. 
“Order whatever you’d like.  My treat.”  There’s a glint of humor in his eyes and you look down to see Goldie in your palm.
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thebeautysurrounds · 2 days
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I’ve been thinking a lot about how people’s reactions to certain queer shows and something I think we need to examine how we treat more ‘dark’ and ‘emotional’ shows versus more ‘happy’ shows in this case I’m gonna be talking about the “debate” between Young Royals and Heartstopper.
Firstly these shows exist in two different lanes, and draw in two different audiences and potential age ranges, in my opinion, Young Royals is for older teenagers (think juniors or seniors or someone who is about to graduate high school and is going into college) while Heartstopper is geared towards those who are just starting high school or in the middle of it and is in that transitional period of their lives. Obviously, if you are not in these age ranges you can still consume and enjoy these shows, But I want to discuss how people act like they both can’t exist and you can’t like both or both shows existing for a reason. I’ve never really been a fan of punching down or belittling queer media (unless it’s harmful) Queer media in all forms is still lacking (especially those mediums centering WLW relationships). That being said the debate of which show is better is honestly so tired.
For people who say Young Royals is so much better (don’t get me wrong it is an amazing show and by all means like whatever you want) but liking it more because it’s “darker and more realistic” compared to Heartstopper which is "much happier" and "unrealistic," To me is so disingenuous because firstly so what? campy shows that feature queer characters deserve to be unrealistic, What's wrong with being unrealistic? Queer media has been subject to the Burry Your Gays narrative for decades or extremely unhealthy tropes and storylines so what's so wrong with having storylines and shows that are unrealistic or extremely happy? (even though the themes in Heartstopper are realistic).
Have you thought about how that may be an intentional choice? Now bare with me here this may be my over-analytic brain at work but Heartstopper has more or less some of the same themes as Young Royals just shot in a very vibrant and colorful manner to showcase how happy and colorful young love is BUT if you actually have watched the show or read the graphic novels you would know the show and graphic novels cover some heavy themes.
SPOILERS AFTER THIS POINT……
I want you to keep the song Pumped up Kicks by Foster the People in mind throughout this...I have a point I promise. Heartstopper is shot in a very poopy colorful way and in my opinion, symbolizes how when you’re young and in love everything feels warm, colorful, and vibrant. While Young Royals doesn't utilize this cinematic style they do use some form of vibrancy to convey tone and emotion. In Young Royals many of the scenes featuring Simon and Willhem's 'good moments' feature the sun especially shining on Simon when Willie is looking at him or whenever they are just in each other's company, this is especially prominent in the last scenes of the last two episodes of season 3.
So while people's criticisms of Heartstopper can be warranted (not saying you can't dislike the show) the comments that it's just so bubbly and bright just aren't true. The last season of Heartstopper saw multiple characters go through traumatic situations and it has been building up that way from the very first scenes in the first season of the show (but for the sake of time I'm only going to discuss both main characters in the two shows) Charlie not only is still struggling with being outed but is also battling with an eating disorder, this is foreshadowed throughout the first two seasons leading up to its inevitable blatant reveal when he is at dinner with Nick and his family where Nick starts to piece together why he is never hungry, passed out on the Paris trip and never finishes his food, which leads his to eventually research the signs of an ED. Nick is also still figuring himself out when it comes to his Bisexuality, while also dealing with the feelings of, feeling abandoned by his father, and having to reckon with the fact his brother is not supportive and dismissive of his sexuality and relationship.
Now before I said keep Pumped Up Kicks in mind that's because while this song has an upbeat, catchy tempo the song actually has a really dark undertone and meaning. So while Heartstopper is shot in a very vibrant colorway most of its characters and content of the show deal with dark themes and it's not all just a happy love story, and if the script for the next season follows the graphic novel closely, then we will see the characters go through even more challenges which also falls inline with the "darker" more emotionally message of the show. So to end this so it doesn't become a dissertation, both shows more or less have the same themes they just exist in two different lanes, I don't know why exactly people are fighting for one to be more valid than the other. When both can exist and be impactful to both or each audience, more queer shows need to exist where the characters are just happy and in love and I need y'all to unpack why you view more doom and gloom (for a lack of a better word) queer shows or movies are more valid than ones where the characters are just happy and have relatively in some aspects great experience when it comes to young love and figuring out one's identity. Sepreatlty why do you want these characters to suffer to find love? Why do characters have to go through something traumatic for their identity to be more valid and for you to relate and want to root for it more versus the latter?
Anyway, this was longer than I intended it to be but I just had to get my thoughts out there. TL;DR: Heartstopper and Young Royals are two great shows and if you think one is better than the other cause it has darker themes you are missing the point or probably objectively missed the dark undertones of the show, and one isn't more valuable than the other.
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lunargrapejuice · 2 days
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sephiroth + "it's getting crowded. here, hold my hand." and/or "i will never let you go."
p.s i adore how you write sephiroth sm i will always eat it up ravenously thank you <333
ahhh thank you so much lovely!<3 i wrote one but i'm still gonna write the other because i can't help myself with this man hehe🤭🩷 i hope you enjoy this one🥺 it got kinda long im sorry ahh again i could not help myself😵‍💫
🌙 prompt event
"it's getting crowded. here, hold my hand." | sephiroth x reader with no pronouns used
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tonight the moon seems nothing more than a dim light in the distance against the bright city street that is busy with midgar citizens despite the late hour. booths and open storefronts line the street for as far as you can see, public security having blocked off the area so no vehicles could get through and people could wander the bustling night market freely. the scent of sweet and fried foods fills the air, accompanied by the chatter and giggles of everyone around you but it all feels dull against the butterflies in your chest that hadn’t stopped for a single moment since the start of your walk home.
but how could they when sephiroth had waited at the office in order to see you home safely and had kept close since you left the shinra building? you could feel the heat of his body, his long strides slowed in order to keep next to you but it’s a comfortable pace as he walks on the side of the walkway closest to the street and crowds of people.
with how broad his shoulders are, anytime you look up at him, he takes up your whole world, making your cheeks burn at the reminder of just how beautiful he is and how close he actually is to you. one sway of your hand to the right and your fingers would be brushing against his. you could reach out and move his long hair away from his face to give you a better view of those cat-like eyes that have always captivated you. but you don’t and instead let yourself fall into a comfortable silence when your mind runs away with thoughts of how it would feel to card you fingers through his hair, touch the tender skin of his cheek-
before you can get too far away from the reins you normally keep on your feelings for him, your attention to your surroundings come back just in time to see someone running in your direction a little too late for you to move out of the way, their eyes not in front of them and instead of the person jogging beside them. your body tenses, your eyes closing and you draw in a quick breath as if to prepare for the impact and the crash to the ground.
while you do feel the world around you move, there’s no force to the ground and instead of a harsh clashing of bodies, it’s as though you’re being gently tucked into one. the smell of leather and flora fills your senses and you know without a doubt you’re against sephiroth even before your eyes open to confirm it’s true. he had moved so quickly you are only now registering the arm around your middle that keeps you pressed against his body and when your eyes flutter open to be met with his worried ones, light brows knitted together in concern, you’re glad for it as your knees wobble.
he feels the shift in your body weight and easily adjusts his hold on you so you don’t lose your footing but hopes that you don’t hear or feel the way his heart is rapidly beating in his chest with how it feels to have you pressed into him. it certainly gets no better when you look up at him with eyes that sparkle in the street lights. but to his surprise, despite the overwhelming bursts of electricity firing off like fireworks in his chest, he’s able to speak.
“are you alright?”
slow to pull away, regretful that you have to, you feel his hold leave your side only when he knows you’re steady on your feet. your nod your head and the smile you wear is hiding your embarrassment. “ah - sorry about that.”
“it’s fine,” he chuckles, low and sweet, and the melody of it stops your worries in their tracks. all you can focus on is his handsome face in a soft, almost boyish, expression you quite like on him. “distracted by something?”
your cheeks burn and you’re unable to meet his eyes. yes but you’re not able to admit about what. “i guess so,” you try not to think about what was keeping your eyes and your mind occupied, what it felt like to be in his arms, pressed against his chest, just moments ago even though the feeling of him still tingles your skin everywhere your bodies connected. “theres.. just a lot going on out here. i think i’m a little used to the quieter walk home.”
it wasn’t entirely a lie. normally this street was empty on your way home and anytime sephiorth walked you it was just the two of you. you think you both prefer it that way considering how many eyes have looked sephiroths way tonight. you’re thankful they at least have been too busy to stop the famous war hero. or perhaps too scared to with how intimidating his presence felt to most. 
a feeling that wasn’t in your personal repertoire of emotions for him.
oh no, there was nothing close to intimidation or fear when he closes the distance between you, one step that puts you impossibly close as a couple walks behind him and takes a double look back. you hear them whisper his name amongst themselves but his focus is only on you. you’re unable to discern the emotions swirling like mako in his eyes but a part of you wonders if they are mirroring your own.
sephiroth knows this is just a crowd of citizens, not a battlefield or enemy territory, but there’s a deep need within him to protect you, keep you as close as possible so you don’t have to worry about anyone nearly crashing into you again or touching you if you don’t want them to. 
he’s been keenly aware of everyone around you, not normally liking being in such large crowds to begin with and wanting to ensure your safety always, but a part of him is also thankful for them tonight. at least in the sense that he might not have given in to his want to hold you had he not needed to in order to keep you safe. such intimate and tender moments are not something he is used to in the slightest but he craved it with you and the desire had only grown each time you touched. 
now was no exception - goddess it had only made it amplify to the tenth degree. he hadn’t wanted you to step away from his chest that caught your breath on his exposed skin or to be away from the softness of you in his hold. and you’re still here, right in front of him, right within his grasp, so close he could easily lean down and capture your lips.
it takes all of his strength to fight against the heart in his chest that aches for you but even in his seemingly infinite might, it still somehow gets the better of him. if only a bit.
“it's getting crowded. here, hold my hand.”
in your speechless state, all you can do is nod at his words as your cheeks burn and you take his offered hand. the leather of his gloves feels clean and his hand easily encases your own with its size but you also can’t deny how utterly perfect it feels and give it an experimental squeeze at the first step you take back down the street, hoping this walk home will last much longer tonight.
♡♡♡♡♡
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