#amount of food today!!!!! maybe two half meals!!!!!

[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy pt. 7

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Your usual daily session is interrupted and chaos follows not long after.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, praise, degradation, face fucking, deep throating, exhibitionism??, grinding, fear gas, angst, kind of? He’s just not good at emotions, but you are very persistent lmao.

Words | 3.3k

Notes | I hope y'all remember what happens in Batman begins lmao. (Okay I’m worried I made the end too complicated because I had to reread some of the things he said multiple times and really think about it to understand what he was trying to say… lmk what y’all think of it pls)

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 6

You started a nice routine. So far he’s only been gone one day, but other than that you would always come to his office sometime around lunch, depending on if he was able to let himself have a break from his work or not. Usually after you ate was when he would give you a few things to do, but sometimes he got too impatient and fucked you instead. He learned very quickly though that your come drunk mind is not able to complete anything he gives you, so he does his best to wait and save that until after you’ve done a decent amount of work. He still hasn’t had you help with the experiments directly yet though. Which you thought was weird given how eager he seemed for your help. Okay maybe not eager…

Two weeks passed by quickly and you found yourself looking forward to each day, which you haven’t felt since you got here. You tried not to think about that too much though. 

He brought pasta today, in to-go containers, and you ate it eagerly. He was mostly used to your eating habits by now, understanding that you’re only getting one decent tasting meal a day, but he still often reprimanded you for eating too fast. 

“How much time is left of your lunch break?” You asked as you finished your food and he glanced at the clock on the wall. 

“Half an hour.” 

“Good.” You stood up, discarding the empty container on his desk, and walked over to him. When you dropped to your knees, he raised his brows and eyed you curiously. “Move back.” You said, glancing down to the chair. Without saying a word, he rolled the chair back and you slipped under the desk, using the arms of the chair to pull him back in. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, but it was amused, not a warning. You placed a hand over his already hardening cock, making his breath hitch. 

“If you really don’t want me to, I guess I can stop.” You said, knowing he wouldn’t dare do anything of the sort. When he didn’t respond, you worked on freeing his length, then took it in your hand, stroking it to full hardness. He let out a shaky breath and both hands came down to your hair, making you pause. 

“Keep eating, doctor.” You teased and his cock twitched. He huffed, but removed one hand, the other threading through your hair. You continued stroking him, then leaned down and enveloped the tip in your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, but he gave no other indication that he was affected by your ministrations. Which only made you want to try harder. You swallowed him deeper in your mouth, hand stroking the base, then started moving up and down at a slow pace. He let you maintain control for a while, his hand tight on your hair but not pushing you down just yet. 

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you placed both hands on his thighs and forced yourself down as far as you could without gagging. He let out a choked moan and his hand suddenly forced you down the rest of the way, making your eyes widened as they filled with tears. He let out a low moan as he held you there, even as you dug your nails into his covered thighs. When he finally let you pull off, you coughed lightly, but quickly continued. 

“So eager. Do you like sucking me off?” You moaned around his length in agreement, never slowing the bobbing of your head. “I can tell. I bet you’re already soaked.” He chuckled and your face heated up. You let out a startled moan when he suddenly pushed his leg out between your thighs, pressing it against your core. You took the stimulation greedily, rutting against his leg as you hallowed out your mouth and pressed your tongue against the underside of his length. 

You weren’t sure if he was still eating, but his free hand was still above the desk and he stopped talking for a moment so you assumed he was. When you went all the way down and froze again, he pushed you down the rest of the way until his cock passed your throat barrier, making you choke. 

“That’s it. You just need a little help getting there, don’t you?” He said through a moan and your hips bucked faster at the passable excuse for praise. “We'll have to work on that though. I shouldn’t have to do all the work every time, should I?” You sputtered around his cock, tears falling down your cheeks, staining the fabric of his pants. When you tried to push yourself back up, his grip on your hair turned painful and he forced you down impossibly deeper. 

“Shh, just take it.” He uttered softly at your panicked choking. Finally stopping the pressure, you quickly pulled away, coughing and almost hyperventilating, making him roll back a little to see your face. “You can take a little more right? I’m so close.” Even though his tone sounded a little mocking, you were pretty sure he was genuinely asking. So you cleared your throat and nodded, letting out a raspy, “yeah.”

“Good girl.” He said, giving you a proud smile, and your hips stuttered forward at the praise, making his smile turn into a small smirk. He rolled back in and let you pick up where you left off, bobbing your head up and down his length, now very encouraged to help him reach his orgasm. He seemed to grow impatient though and he moved your head faster, fucking your mouth, almost breaching your throat barrier with each thrust. He fucked you like that a few times before someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened and he forced you all the way down, holding you there. 

“Dr. Crane?” Someone called out from the other side. 

“No sounds.” He warned, tightening his grip to hold you flush to his pelvis. “Come in.” You were so incredibly glad that the back of his desk was covered when you heard the door open. 

“Miss Dawes is back. She’s asking about Falcone.” The man said. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs the longer you went without oxygen. When you let out a choked whimper and instinctively tried to pull off, he released your hair to instead place a hand on the back of your head, holding you against him with an iron grip. 

“I am on my lunch break.” 

“She’s insisting.” The man above you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Fine. Tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes.” The door closed and he released you, letting you pull off as you coughed and sputtered, a trail of saliva connecting the head of his cock to your lips. He waited impatiently for you to recover before using both hands to grab your head and force you back down, starting a brutal pace of pounding your mouth. Each thrust made your choke and gag as he forced his cock into your throat every time. When he cursed under his breath and his hips started bucking with each move of your head, you knew he was nearing his orgasm. 

He pulled you all the way down with a low moan and you felt hot come hitting the back of your throat, not even letting you swallow it because of how deep he was. You let out a muffled whimper as he continued holding you there, only letting you pull away once his cock stopped twitching. 

As you recovered, he used the napkins he brought for lunch to wipe his cock before tucking himself back in his pants and moving the chair back. 

“Come here.” He said softly, holding a hand out for you to take. You crawled out from under his desk and used his hand to get to your feet, leaning against the furniture behind you. When he stood and used a clean napkin to wipe your face, your cheeks heated up. “I’m sorry I cannot stay with you this time.” He said, focusing on the task. 

“It’s okay.” You croaked, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. 

“Before I forget,” He discarded the napkin then reached into the plastic bag from the restaurant, pulling out another to-go container— this one much smaller than the other one— and handing it to you, “I thought you might enjoy this.” You took it from him and could practically feel your mouth salivating at the sight of the brownie in the box. It was nothing fancy, just a plain brownie, but you haven’t had dessert in weeks and you started to miss chocolate. 

“Oh this looks amazing. Thank you.” You smiled, looking up at him, receiving a nod and a tight lipped smile in response.  

“I will escort you back.” He said, taking a step away from you to let you move away from the desk as he collected his things. “Grab your bag.” He said, when you started walking without it. 

“Right… sorry.” You said sheepishly, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. He made no other comment about your mistake as he led you to the door while you put the container in your bag. “Who’s Miss Dawes?” You asked as you walked down the now familiar hallways. 

“No one of your concern.” He said coldly, but he seemed to notice his tone. “Someone who’s been getting too close to what I’m doing here.” He explained, tone still void of emotion, but not as harsh. 

“I see.” You said, then added, “You can’t do anything about it?” He turned to you with an almost amused expression on his face because of what you were implying.  

“No. She works for the DA's office.” 

“Oh.” You arrived at your cell and he opened the door for you. 

“I will see you soon. I am not exactly sure when that will be though.” He said, easing your nerves, probably because of what he did the last time he returned you to your cell. 

“Okay.” You walked inside, then turned and gave him a small smile, receiving a curt nod in response before he closed the door. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you finished the brownie, got through six chapters of a book and covered two pages of the sketch book in drawings before you started growing a little tired. Not knowing what time it was, you decided to just lay down and try to sleep, but a loud noise followed by an alarm had you bolting up in your bed. You got up to try and see anything through the small window on the door, but the hallway was empty. Deciding not to feed into your anxiety, you turned back around, but froze at the sound of your door being unlocked. Was whoever was responsible for the alarms coming for you now? 

You all but sighed in relief when Dr. Crane was on the other side of the door, but your brows furrowed in confusion when you saw the open straight jacket he was wearing, as well as the scarecrow mask in his hand. 

“Hurry, we don’t have much time.” He said, holding his free hand out for you to take. You grabbed it and he started briskly walking down the halls to his office, practically pulling you along behind him. 

“What’s going on? Why are you wearing that?” 

“I’ll explain later, please just trust me right now.” Another loud sound came from outside and he stiffened, then sped up significantly. When you walked through the doors he went straight to his desk and grabbed a gas mask, then tossed it to you as he put on his scarecrow mask. You stared at him in confusion as he walked toward you. 

“Put it on.” His tone was stern but it wasn’t out of anger it was out of fear. You obeyed and as soon as the mask was on, he was grabbing you and pulling you into the hallway toward the front door. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, voice muffled by the mask. He opened the door and you were met with the sight of pure chaos. People were attacking each other in the street, police horses were running wild, their riders nowhere to be found. He led you over to a horse and lifted himself onto it, then tried to help you on before you stopped him. You could barely get a word out before he was interrupting you. 

“Just get on.” You nervously eyed the wriggling horse before sighing and lifting yourself onto it with his help. You sat behind him, not sure what to do, but when the horse bucked up and started running, you let out a startled scream and quickly wrapped your arms around his torso. 

“Where are we going?” You had to yell over the screaming people you were passing and honestly for a moment you weren’t sure he even heard you. 

“Somewhere safer than this.” You passed inmates, police officers, and civilians alike, all of them yelling and either running or attacking. When you saw something flying in your direction, you thought you had truly lost it, but he turned down a street to avoid it before you could get a good look at it. 

As he continued down the panic filled streets, there were less and less people and you saw water up ahead. He stopped in front of a warehouse near the docks and jumped off before helping you down. 

“What the hell was that thing?” You asked as he led you inside. 

“Gotham’s self-appointed protector, a deluded soul in a costume.” He said, voice dripping with loathing and contempt. The darkness of the room caught your attention, shifting your focus away from the questions you initially wanted to ask about his response. 

“What is this place?” 

“When the Bat started sniffing around, I moved some of my belongings here.” He closed and locked the door, then walked over to a wall to turn on the dim lights. “It should be safe to take off the mask now. If it’s not, I prepared an antidote, just to be safe.” You tentatively removed the gas mask after he removed his own. 

“That was all your toxin?” You asked, shocked. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“It was not my plan.” He defended. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, gaze drifting down to the straight jacket.

“Why are you wearing that?” 

“I have the Bat to thank for this.” He said bitterly. You stared at him, trying to psych yourself up to ask what you really wanted to know. 

“Why did you come back for me? Why didn’t you just escape?” When he turned around and started walking to a desk in the center of the room, you thought he was just going to ignore you. 

“I’ve worked too hard on you. It’d be a pity to let that go to waste over something as simple as not stopping by your room.” He said simply, making your brows furrow. You followed after him and when he turned back to face you, he read your expression easily. “First you complain about being there and now you complain about me taking you somewhere else.” Despite his annoyance, there was a small smile on his lips. 

“I’m not complaining, I'm just confused.” 

“You said you’d help me. Now more than ever I need assistance. Have the few minutes of freedom changed your mind already?” He almost seemed… hurt. 

“That’s not-“ You let out a heavy sigh in frustration. “Why can’t you be honest with me?” 

“I am,”

“You’re not. You really expect me to believe that you took me just because you need help? When you could’ve gotten any lowlife to do it instead?” 

“Yes.” He said simply. You clenched your jaw and stared at him, then let out a dry chuckle. 

“Fine. What do you need help with?” You waited in agonizing silence as he studied you. 

“Why are you so bothered by this?” That made you scoff. 

“Are you serious?” You asked and when he didn’t respond, you continued. “I’ve given you everything— everything that wasn’t taken from me— and in return, all you do is treat me like one of your experiments.” You watched his jaw tick as it clenched, but you couldn’t stop, not now that you’ve started. “You want my help, you want me to eat with you, you give me a fucking sketch pad, but you come back for me just because it would be a pity to let your work go to waste?” You could feel tears welling in your eyes as you said it out loud. 

“Why can’t you give me something— anything, to prove that I’m not just an experiment to you.” You said quietly. He swallowed thickly and looked away from you. Just say it, you begged silently. Please just say it.

“What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you that I like being around you? That I couldn’t harm you again, no matter how hard I tried? That the thought of leaving you in that place, without me there to protect you, is enough to make me risk my life?” When he finished, his expression was something you’ve never seen on him before. 

“If it’s true.” You said quietly, holding your breath. 

“Even if it is, you expect too much of me. I am not able to give you what you truly want.” 

“I just want you.” You took a step toward him, but froze when he took one back. 

“No. You want someone who can provide you with more than just books or art supplies and simple kindness. You want someone who can make you feel like more than an experiment and I am not able to give that to you.” Even though you understood that you had nothing to do with his attachment issues, your chest still ached knowing that you’re not enough for him to want to try. 

“I know that your ways of expressing affection are unconventional, but it’s enough for me to just know. You don’t have to say it.” 

“I may not be a good person, but I am not selfish enough to keep you from finding what you truly desire under the basis of false affection. No matter how much I wish to keep you by my side.”  

“What I desire is to be by your side!” You said, exacerbated. “I don’t need emotional confessions or labels. I can feel it in the way you touch me, the way you speak to me, the things you do for me.” He was silent for a long time and you forced yourself to maintain eye contact, even as your eyes were filling with tears once again. 

“That is not how you really feel and as the one who’s emotions haven’t been manipulated, it would be wrong of me to continue taking advantage of you in your current state,”

“You made me like this!” You yelled, feeling a tear escape your waterline. When you continued, you tried to lower your voice to a normal level. “You made me feel like this… Please don’t pretend like all of this is just in my head.” When he remained silent, you whimpered out one last, “Please.” 

“Eventually you’ll realize that I’m right- that all of this was just a coping mechanism.” You let out an irritated sigh, getting over this back and forth very quickly. 

“Tell me.” You said, significantly harsher than before. 

“What?”

“Tell me to my face that I’m nothing more than an experiment. Tell me and I’ll drop it.” He clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose, not able to maintain eye contact. The longer he remained silent, the harder it was to hold in the tears. “Please.” You whispered, making him look at you again. 

“Even if you aren’t, the confession would be inadmissible,” 

“It wouldn’t!” You yelled and he let out another heavy sigh. 

“I will only disappoint you, but to satiate your masochistic tendencies…” He paused with a sigh and you held your breath. “You are more than an experiment.” 

Part 8

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #angst #smut #confessions #? #kind of #exposure therapy

[nekonanamii]

All for the best pt. 1— Toji x Fem! Reader

Your boyfriend Suguru doesn’t treat you as good as he used to. Maybe it’s because he’s busy getting his balls drained by someone else.

Just keep reading, I promise you this is a Toji x reader fic <3

Suguru and you have been together for years. You’ve been together since university, but ever since you moved to a bigger and more lavish apartment, things just haven’t been the same.

“Sorry honey I’ll be out til late I have a business meeting over dinner” he says in a text.

You can’t even remember the last time you had dinner together. You’ve had your doubts thinking he can’t possibly have business meetings over dinner that often but you kept telling yourself that your dear Suguru was faithful and loyal to you.

Little did you know that he was busy getting his balls drained by none other than the real estate agent who sold you two the new apartment. The very one you’re currently in right now.

It started with some light and friendly flirting between the two over apartment viewings, followed by the real estate agent’s skirt getting skimpier and skimpier each time they met for a viewing, the agent couldn’t help but gawk at how beautiful this man was and how sexy he was too. Suddenly, Suguru’s pants were by his ankles and the agent was on her knees sucking him dry.

By some odd chance, while the agent was showing him the new shower system this apartment had, the water accidentally turned on and got her white blouse wet, and by some odd coincidence, she had nothing underneath.

“Fuck you set this up didn’t you?” Suguru says as he pumps his cock in and out of her cunt.

Of course she planned this. Why on earth would she forget to wear a bra today?

And just like that Suguru spends more and more time fucking your real estate agent and blowing load after load into her cunt. What’s worse is that you have no idea they’ve fucked in every single room of your new apartment.

It’s Monday and you’re buying groceries for you and your boyfriend. You can’t help but think about how you don’t even need to get as much groceries as before because Suguru doesn’t even eat his meals at home anymore. So there you are, with half the amount of groceries you usually get and more wine in your cart than actual food.

“Sorry honey I’m spent. Maybe tomorrow.” Suguru says as you try to initiate some sort of sexual contact. What gives? You know your boyfriend has a high libido, but ever since you both moved apartments he just doesn’t seem to want any action?

You have your suspicions sure but Suguru would never cheat on you, right?

Wrong.

It’s 10:19pm on a Friday, you were supposed to be at your parents house til Monday but you and your mom had a small little argument about when you were gonna get married and give her grandkids, you’d love to give her answers I mean you’ve been with your boyfriend for 6 years now it was bound to happen sometime soon right? As you opened the door, you heard music. It was the type of jazz you know Suguru loves to listen to as he drinks his favorite whiskey. As you get closer to the living area, you hear it. Little whimpers and someone saying your boyfriend’s name as if it were a prayer.

You watched as your boyfriend roughly fucked into your real estate agent on your brand new couch that you picked with both her ankles on his shoulders. Your loyal and faithful boyfriend of 6 fucking years was thrusting hard while yelling out a string of curses about how much he loved her cunt.

Sickening.

Tears streamed down your face. You didn’t make a sound, but the tears were gushing out of your eyes. The pair were too busy fucking each other’s brains out to even notice you were there. You couldn’t even move. You wanted earth to just swallow you whole.

Suguru grabs the remote to the speakers and that’s when he sees you. “Y/n I-“

You sob. Uncontrollably and miserably.

~

The series of events that followed was a nightmare.

All Suguru had to say was “it just kinda happened, you weren’t there and I was lonely.”

Bullshit.

6 fucking years down the drain.

You buried yourself even more into your work. Spending longer hours at the office. Doing more work than the actual scope of your position.

Your boss took note of this. After all your were his favorite secretary. You were also the most competent.

You worked at Fushiguro Corp and you were the Mr Toji Fushiguro’s secretary.

~

Today was a special day, it was the celebration of the merger between Fushiguro Corp. and Gojo enterprises.

You were on your 4th glass of champagne and you were feeling the best you’ve felt in weeks after having gone through the worst betrayal of your life. You head to the viewing deck of the location your company held the celebration at. Little did you know that your boss was there first.

“Ms y/n, careful now you might fall off” he says as you rest your elbows on the railings

You’re a bit startled to see your boss out here, you can’t help but think to yourself how sexy he looks in his suit

Your boss let’s our a small chuckle, “Yeah you think so?”

Oh god did you just say your thoughts out loud? Shit. You did.

His large hand lands on the small of your back, pulling your closer to him.

“Now now, be careful, I told you you might fall”

~

And just like that Toji was pumping you full of his cum. He hates it when you waste even a single drop, hell he’ll fuck each and every single drop back into you.

You were his sweet little secretary and right now you’re splayed over his lap in the middle of a workday in his office receiving a harsh slap for letting his cum drip down your legs.

“M’ sorry it was just so much sir—” you sob as he gives you another harsh slap. He has a finger plugged into your pussy making sure his load stays inside.

Toji loved how easy it was to make you his good litte girl. You were smart, great at your job, and even though you were lousy at keeping his cum in your pretty little cunt, he thought you were absolutely perfect.

Your boss was a busy man with a tight schedule. He frequently had business trips abroad, he usually brought along multiple secretaries with him on these trips but on this particular one it was just you.

Of course you were on his private jet getting dick shoved down your throat as he took in a work call. Toji told you to stay quiet but how can you when he’s pushing your head deeper into him. Your boss ends the call, he pulls up your head and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.

“Aww little girl couldn’t take my cock?” He says smirking as he looks at you.

There you were on your knees with saliva dripping down your mouth, glossy eyes, flushed cheeks, and red puffy lips.

God what a sight he thought to himself.

Just as you were about to say something he plunges his cock back into your mouth as he holds both sides of your head. He fucks into your throat while praising you for how obedient you were taking him in just like that.

“Good girl now be a doll and unbotton your shirt, I wanna see your pretty tits”

As soon as you exposed yourself to him, Toji’s pace became more erratic.

“Fuck, baby you’re so fucking beautiful fuck me—”

Your boss cums down your throat then pulls out of your swollen lips to cum on your face and your tits. It’s crazy how much cum he has. Honestly.

You get to the destination. It’s a private island. Your sneaky boss disguised this getaway as a work trip.

The villa you were staying at had a large double door facing the ocean. You would’ve enjoyed taking in the soft sounds of the water and the stars out tonight if you weren’t on all fours getting pounded like there’s no tomorrow.

~

Several months later your belly’s all round as Toji lightly fucks into you. “Wouldn’t want our precious little princess to get hurt, yeah?”

This man was truly insane.

You thought that the fact that you were pregnant, Toji would have some common sense to lay off you a little more.

Wrong.

Toji loves seeing you round with his baby. Fuck he thinks you look the sexiest like this.

He can’t wait to fuck another baby into you. <3

~

Your little princess is turning 1 and you were back to getting pounded non-stop, always having your pussy filled with this man’s cum.

Toji loves you, he proposed as soon as you got back from that “business trip” with him. He promised he’d take care of you and love you forever.

This man not only married you but gave you your beautiful darling daughter, and he can’t wait until he gets you knocked up again <3

Honestly, I just need Toji in my damn guts

Also! I made a second part (ish!) pov you’re the real estate agent 🫣

#I badly need Toji in my guts #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #jjk toji #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu toji #dilf Toji #suguru #jjk geto

[katsukikitten]

just a little soft shared moment with Enjin I wrote it straight into Tumblr drafts. God speed.

Today was not your fucking day, the worst luck you'd experienced in a long time. Coin purse stolen, the last of your food expired and your 'friend' that owed you a favor bailed tonight.

Leaving you outside in a dank alley that smells a bit like piss and old frying oil right next to the best bar and grill in the damn city.

"Fuck today." You grumble, grabbing for your half crushed pack of cigarettes, eagerly opening the box only to be met with disappointment.

Your last fucking one.

Thankfully it wasn't crushed, placing it between your black lipstick clad lips before lighting it and taking a deep inhale.

Today fucking sucked.

A burst of sound pulls your attention as you see a broad shouldered man with a furrowed brow and snarl on his lips as moved more into the shroud of the dark alley.

"Shit. The hells my light?"

You look over to see the tall blonde patting down his jacket, cigarette dangling from his mouth as he searches his person, "God damn."

But he enunciates a little too roughly and his cigarette, his only cigarette, falls right into a pile of shit.

Guess his luck was worse.

Not just a trash pile, no his luck was so poor that it landed in a literal pile of shit, nestled into an old used plunger that got tossed into the trash outside. Funny how the entire city, your entire world, was made of trash and yet there were still things still too dirty to touch in the Abyss.

"Fuuuuck." He groans long and low, hand running through his blonde hair before his eyes meet yours. Bright yellow like the moon in the torn picture books your mother used to read to you as a kid.

"Got a smoke?" He gives a half smile, one that's a little too friendly for your liking but some cleaners were like that. Overly friendly, 'cleaning up' the abberant beasts just outside the city even if no one fucking asked them too. For a moment your cynical side thinks he expects it, that you dig around for a rare cigarette that took you ages to fucking scavenge for.

Then he sighs, running his broad tattooed hand through his hair, gripping at the back of his tattooed neck.

"Dumb question I know but I'll trade ya for it." He starts looking in his pockets for his free meal ticket he won off a bet with Riyo, tongue salivating over the thought of the fresh meal from his favorite watering hole but he needed the nicotine after his shit day.

"This is my last one." He looks at you bewildered, watches you take a drag and the ember burn the paper down.

"What?" He gawks incredulously.

"This is my last one." You repeat letting the smoke trindle around your damning statement.

He visibly deflates with the sound of his heavy exhale, eyes fluttering shut, tic in his jaw and fists clenched tight.

"I can share." You pull til the ember is half way.

"What?" He asks again, it makes you scoff but your pretty lips still turn up into a cat smile.

"All you can do is squawk? I said I'd share." You extend your hand to him, the burning stick between two delicate fingers with sharp claws, he studied it for a moment.

"Take it before I change my mind." Quickly his tattooed fingers brush yours as he applies the perfect amount of pressure to secure the stick as you let go. Bringing it to his lips right over where your black lipstick stained the unfiltered paper. He takes in a deep breath, holds it and lets it burn his lungs to make sure it sticks and exhales it as if it'd take away all his bad luck.

And maybe it did.

"Fuuuuuuuck." He groans again and the sound has you shifting from one foot to the other, made your stomach flip and you look away before you imagine him overtop of you groaning like that.

"Well, hope your night turns around. Seems pretty shit." Giggling at your own joke as you turn on your combat boot clad heel.

"Wait!" He has the stick dangerously dangling between his lips again, thick digits wrapping around your wrist, "I didn't get to pay ya."

"It was only half." You scoff but he's already producing a meal ticket from his pocket, holding it between two fingers, you can just barely read the details. Free three course meal, app entree and dessert.

"Then we can split this." He brandishes it some more, waving it around like it would entice you to sit across from this stranger with an easy smile that squeezes your heart like a vice. That smile made him dangerous. You avoided danger, people, more than anything your entire life, it was doubtful you'd be sharing a meal with a rowdy ass janitor.

"It's only faaaair. Don't wanna owe ya one." He chuckles, taking a short drag as he tries to get the most out of it before the ember can burn his lips. He gives a wolfish grin as if he can tell he's wearing you down, waving around that damn meal ticket again. It makes your stomach growl as you think of the mouth watering lava cake they were infamous for.

Your eyes snap up to his, there it is, that golden moon gaze that looks at you with a softness that no one has before. Makes you grit your teeth.

"Fine." You snatch the ticket from him, "But I get to pick the dessert."

"Fine by me sweetheart." Stubbing the last little bit of the smoke out before he gently guides you into the rowdy bar by the small of your back. You don't recoil away encouraging his feather soft touch to become a little more firm, a little more real. It causes you to turn your head up at him as he holds up the noren to duck under before he smiles down at you in reassurance with that deadly, dangerous smile of his. For once you smile back, wiping away the smudge of lipstick that transferred from your shared cigarette.

Maybe just maybe the two of you would turn your luck around.

At least for tonight.

#enjin x reader #kitten writes enjin #gachiakuta enjin

[gadriezmannsgirl]

https://www.tumblr.com/gadriezmannsgirl/736999672550457344/please-tell-me-im-not-the-only-one-watching-over

Don't you think this deserves a Ferran's fic of him teasing his girl?

Kitchen Disaster -F.T7

Summary: Your boyfriend has found a new hobby, teasing you non-stop

°°° °°° °°° °°°

"Que va a explotar" (It's going to explode)

"Nada va a explotar" (Nothing is going to explode)

"Tendré que buscar nueva casa" (I'll have to look for a new home)

"Ferran!" You say putting the timer to the oven "Stop saying those things and stop trying to sabotage our dinner!" He laughs and winks at you

"I'll wait for you, preciosa" He said before leaving the kitchen towards the living room. You giggled before grabbing two glasses of lemon juice and bring them over. You laying on top of Ferran as you both watched Encanto

Both of you singing to the songs in the movie and being surprised by every single little fact as if you haven't seen it ever when Ferran stopped signing "What Else Can I Do?"

"Amor" You hum looking at him "Is the time over?" You look at your watch and shake your head

"No why?"

"Smells like burning" He said

"There are fifteen minutes left but still let me go and check" And with that you two stood up to watch the food and when you opened the oven both of you let out curses

"Puta madre"

"Joder!" You quickly get the pan out

"I thought you knew how to cook!"

"Shut up, you know I do!" You complain slightly when you see that the dough you did for your dinner had overflowed from the pan and that the oven was now full of dough.

"Pero..." (But)

"There's no but, I don't know what happened. I have added the same amount as usual!" You cry out watching the dirty oven and thinking of the hard work you had to do to clean it up

"I told you we were fine with just a pizza, preciosa"

"Bueno amor, you were in the mood for a meat filling and I wanted to do it for you" He grabs your hand to pull you into him

"Well, next time, listen to me when I tell you to order food, in that waiting time I can do little things."

"Mira tu" (Look at you) You hit him with the kitchen towel while he was laughing at you.

"The good thing about this is that I'll see you in a maid's outfit while you clean everything. Maybe something else will come out of it" He wiggled his eyebrows up and down as you laughed.

"In your life you will"

"Señorita, señorita, traiga la crema por favor, es hora de mi masaje" (Miss, miss; bring the cream please, it's time for my massage)

"Idiot, shut up" He laughed while you sighed knowing that your destiny was already written, maybe not with the maid outfit as your boyfriend of 1 year and a half wanted, but you did have to clean the whole oven again.

"Am I still cooking?" You asked looking at the dough that was left in the pan.

"Definitely not, I'm placing the order"

"Fer" You call him out as he looks at you. "Do you think…?"

"I'm not going to clean that up, honey"

"Come on Fer, I need you to help me remove the grease"

"You need me but not necessarily to clean up" He smirks

"Are you horny? I'm serious!"

"Look I think you should stop this" He made gestures for the dough. "Let me order the pizza and don't try this anymore… Or at least not without supervision"

"But I do know how to cook!"

"That's what Gusteau says, right?"

"Ferran!"

"Come on, I think you've put something on the side or you've overdone it with something… Yeast, maybe?"

"Amor," you complain. "I really don't know what happened, I've done it as usual, it's just that I wanted to make a very nice gesture to you. You always please me and-" He cut you off.

"And nothing. That you please me too, very much, more than I need. I know you wanted to make me a meal that I wanted and I thank you, it's the thought that counts. I appreciate it very much. But it's not necessary, maybe today is not the day to eat a meat filling, it doesn't matter. Don't be sad there will be plenty of time to be able to make that roll up that I know will be delicious for you."

"You're not mad?" he shook his head smiling as he kissed your forehead.

"Of course not, love. Accidents happen and it's just a little dough that can be removed with soap and degreaser" He placed a hand on your chin to make you look at him and gave you a soft kiss on the lips "Next time, I'll call my mom so you can do it together."

"No es muy divertido" (That's not very funny)

"Well, it's just that anyone can't cook, some people are terrible at it, Gusteau must change that, don't you see Pedri? fua, he almost burned his kitchen. Anyway, we don't want that to happen here. I'll be right back, you want it familiar with bacon and anchovies, right?" He winked at you

"I hate you sometimes, Torres" You sighed with a smile at his teasing "And yes, double cheese too"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#gadriezmannsgirl replies #gadriezmannsgirl writes! #ferran torres #ferran torres x reader #ferran torres imagines #ferran torres imagine #ferran torres one shot #football players x reader #football players imagines #football players one shots #football players fanfic #fc barcelona

[nilolol30]

Hair full of feathers

Redson x GN reader

You have no idea how this happened tonight was supposed to be a movie night with your boyfriend maybe even get some nice takeout if you two couldn't come up with something to cook.

You knew he was ruthless in battle you've seen him fight the noodle boy and dragon horse girl but you had hope he would show you some mercy...

But the amount of force the pillow hit your face reminded you of who your dating and the force of the pillow pushes your head back making you fall back onto the cushions you hear your lovers victorious laugh.

"Why don't you keep down and take a nap dear because no way I'd allow you to be at me!" Redson laughed flicking the hair poof on his head with a smirk but of course you won't let your boyfriend hold this victory today!

Grabbing the pillow he threw at you you then snuck up behind him as he was boasting about beating you and jumped up to then slam the soft pillow on the top of his head but there was a slight error on your part...

His small horns created a hole in the pillow and the force of the pillow made it so it cut in half feathers then covered Redson's entire head and then he slowly turned his head to face you.

You pulled the half of the pillow you were holding to your chest with a nervous smile "Heh I thought they didn't make feather stuffed pillows anymore..." Redson took your half of the pillow and then tipped it upside down on your head making the rest of the feathers inside fall on top of your head.

"That's fair" You say and blow some of the feathers away from your mouth "No my love this is" immediately after he said that Redson pounced at you knocking you back onto to lounge again catching you in a hug the two of you fell into a fit of giggles.

With a free hand you double tap Redson's back in surrender "Okay okay I give I give!" Smiling Redson losses his hold on you and blew a raspberry onto your cheek "About time now stay there and let me order dinner" he sat up and took out his phone to prepare to order but paused at the sound of you laughing harder.

Turning to you he smiled and raised an eyebrow "Sorry sorry just- your hair!" You tried to explain and fell into another fit of laughter and snatched your phone from the table to take a photo.

He leaned over to see the photo you took his hair had a whole lot of feathers stuck on some even poking out he practically looked like a puffed up chicken immediately he patted his hair down pulling out as much of the artificial feathers as he can.

"Very funny I suppose this means I get to pick tonights dinner" immediately you paused your laughter and dramatically gasped "Wait nooo!" Redson finally pulled out the last feather that was stuck on the back of his neck "Hmm maybe I can get that dish you ooo so love~" he knew full well you hated that specific meal but he had to add in his own teasing a bit.

"Awah C'mon and here I thought I was the love of your life" you pretend to faint and fell onto Redson's shoulders he patted your hair and unlocked his phone and ordered your favorite dinner along with his own "while we wait for the food perhaps we should clean up?" He looks at the floor that was covered in features and the ripped pillow.

"Yeah maybe...still though who still makes pillows with feathers these are the bad plastic ones too!" He laughed at your rant and pulled a small feather off your head and began to pick up some of the feathers on the floor.

You helped too picking up some too and ones that got under the lounge you both put the features in a plastic garbage bag and tied it up and left it in the kitchen.

You both sat down on the lounge again and began waiting for the food to arrive Redson was about turn on the TV until he heard you spoke.

"I so won that"

"Why you absolutely did not!"

#lmk red son x reader #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #monkie kid x reader

[catchyhuh]

breakfast facts

WARNING!!!! DO NOT EMULATE THE MADE UP EATING PATTERNS I JUST MADE UP FOR THESE MADE UP PEOPLE IT WOULD PROBABLY BE BAD FOR YOU. ESPECIALLY ZENIGATA REALLY REALLY DO NOT EMULATE ANY OF TH

lupin:

must eat as soon as he wakes up or he’s fucked. not even like fully a physical stomach thing its just mentally he Must start his day with food

kellogs commercial table. the cereal, two slices of toast, one butter, one jam, apple, like bacon and eggs n shit

scarfs it down in two seconds. as a result no one else will make his breakfast for him becuase its kind of annoying spending 2 hours cooking at 7am so the princess can inhale his perfectly crisp bacon like the poltergust 3000 

yes he complains when he has to do it himself. so every day yes. it just wasn't practical to do the whole shebang every day so he whittled it down to his toast and eggs. but you know if he could,

the king must feast. he gives himself a stomach ache damn near every day he gets his food the way he actually wants it

jigen:

eats what’s provided honestly. you could say that about every meal but he just doesn’t care too much esp with his breakfast

he’ll complain (he’s particular about waffles and pancakes needing to be a certain amount of savory to justify them existing in a MEAL meal and not just as a dessert) but not too a huge extent. honestly he’ll eat whatever

doesn't have a huge appetite early in the morning, usually balances it out with a big lunch and even BIGGER dinner. he's gotta ease into those heavy hitters man he's delicate bro

cawfee. cuppa joe. He hates it. jigen doesn’t like it despite dressing like a keurig machine gijinka and having the symphonic cadence of a coffee grinder. it just doesn’t taste good to him (it's that deceptive scent dude) that said {sleep hcs incoming soon} sometimes he needs some to jumpstart him like an old car. again, complains, but goes through with it

fujiko:

special k commercial table. the cereal. the side bowl with random dollops of peanut butter and mixed other nuts and oats (?) i guess it’s oats, the GRAPEFRUIT oh i know she’s a grapefruit bitch!! pb honey spread on an English Muffin too. like some. idk there’s a cinnamon stick involved YOU GET THE VISUAL

funny thing is she doesn’t even eat half of it. she just goes with the muffin, bowl of mini wheats, maybe two pieces of grapefruit ingested as she leaves the table. whoever passes the table next is expected to handle leftovers. breakfast leftovers. that's an insane concept now that i type it out

cawfee. she either drinks it with a thousand disgusting artificially flavored creams or she chews the beans raw. presentation vs functionality is a key aspect of ms mine's internal struggle

complex relationship with fast food coffee shop chains as a result

goemon:

another guy who loves the Big Breakfast by tom cardy but unlike lupin (who loves his beauty sleep too much to wake up early) and fujiko (who usually gets her non-lupin boytoy of the month to make it for her) goemon actually gets up asscrack of dawn early to prepare a meal fit for a king

perfectly fluffy rice. hand squeezed juice. absolutely decadent vegetables. impossibly picturesque omelette. but just normal ass sara lee bread though he doesn’t have THAT much time on his hands

funny thing is he's definitely the most normal about it. goemon just. eats his breakfast. he might raise his eyebrows in slight surprise at how good the eggs taste today or something but really its just. food. all these other weirdos either take 10 years to eat a piece of toast or just inhale their food but the guy who dresses and talks like its the 18th century wins the normal award here

has emphasized the importance of eating breakfast to others before despite easily functioning without it. wake him up at 4 say “no time for brekkie dude we gotta go steal the fire hydrant of the louvre” and he’ll be like Done no problems

zenigata: i know i mentioned it before but NOT HEALTHY BEHAVIOR DO NOT FUCKING EMULATE

haha.

he’s very bad about it VERY bad about it always getting yelled at by third parties. they go “what’d you have for breakfast” and he shrugs and they go "oh god did you even eat" "ONE BOILED EGG HAS PROTEIN IN IT!!"

its amazing the stature you can get while still being the guy who eats half a protein bar for breakfast and doesn’t actually sit down for a meal again until like 1 am. really i cannot emphasize enough don’t try this at home

HES JUST SO DAMN BUSY! but if he could he’d take anything. unlike jigen, who just doesn't wanna start a fight THAT early in the morning, zeni just loves every breakfast food! muffins eggs potatoes pancakes cereal the random ass fruit he LOVES it 

god help the hotel with a free breakfast when this guy comes in. or that is, if he didn’t sleep until 11 AM because he was up lupin-ing all night.

in conclusion: they would all love a trip to the mcdonalds breakfast menu drivethru. they all get a hashbrown. would you believe me if i said i only remembered the mcdonald’s commercials after typing that

#lupin iii #lupin the third #i don't wanna overtag because really this is just. so i can put this out into the world and get it OUT OF MY HEAD so yeah ^w^ #ACTUALLY I NEED TO TAG THIS FOR MY OWN ORGANIZATION LATER DON'T I. OOPS ok we'll just keep it on a one name basis #lupin #jigen #goemon #fujiko #zenigata #done.

[whumpcloud]

Delicate - Missing

content: (institutionalised) pet whump, carewhumper, heavily implied past murder, disordered eating, alcoholism, chronic illness, collars, accidental triggering, past choking, past belting, fainting, it as a pronoun

Sir hasn't outlined any rules yet, so Peter is trying to make guesses. He cleans every morning, before Sir wakes up - Sir sometimes sleeps right into the afternoon, but Peter wakes up at eight in the morning out of habit - and that seems to make Sir happy. Peter couldn't help how good he felt when Sir first praised him for how clean everything was, even though Peter noticed some rubbish he hadn't picked up immediately after and felt intensely guilty.

Maybe Sir wants Darling to ask? Or he might be the kind of Master that only explains the rules when they get broken. Peter, and he keeps forgetting but he's Peter now and he likes being Peter so why is it so hard, thinks about it as a few days pass. Sir has been so kind, too, it makes Peter worry about breaking a rule. Sir even gave him his own place to sleep! Not that Peter minded sleeping with Master, Master was warm and usually gentle and smelled nice when he didn't smell like whiskey, but Peter has never had his own space before, even if that space amounts to an oddly spacious cupboard with the only explanation being Sir mumbling something about an unused laundry room.

Still, the futon is comfortable, and Sir has given him blankets, and Sir even lets Peter do things like make whatever meals he likes for the two of them. Peter would prefer if he knew what Sir liked, but Sir never seems to mind what the food is. Most of the time, all he seems to mind is that Peter has made food at all. Sometimes he looks a little guilty or ashamed, and sometimes he just looks at it and turns away. Peter has tried to test to see if it was things he disliked, but Sir just… doesn't eat often, even if he gives Peter the okay to make it.

Well, that isn't healthy at all.

"Sir, I'm going to make lunch!" Peter smiles. "Would you like anything in particular?"

Elio fidgets with the bottle in his hand. "M'fine. Thanks for offering, I guess."

Peter can be insistent, if he must. "Sir, it's important that you eat. Not just to stay alive, but because you're diabetic. Have you checked your blood sugar today?"

"The alarm hasn't gone off, so I'm fine," Elio mumbles.

"...just because the alarm hasn't gone off doesn't mean that your blood sugar is stable, Sir," Peter says. "You shouldn't wait until you're at risk of illness."

"I'm already ill," Elio mutters.

"You know that's not what I meant, Sir," Peter says softly. "Please take your insulin and eat."

Elio hangs his head and groans. "Fine. Were you trained to be this annoying?"

Peter bites his lip, but only because Sir can't see. "Master was stubborn. He trained me to push past that."

"He must have been one stubborn son of a bitch," Elio half-laughs.

Peter isn't sure yet if that's a nice laugh. He'll learn. He's adjusting. This can be home, if he tries hard enough.

Elio pulls himself up, abandoning the bottle on the floor. He watches Peter's eyes dart to it from the kitchen doorway, then dart back to him.

"Don't judge me," Elio mutters as he walks past.

Peter steps away quickly. He's started to give Sir a wide berth, though something in him aches about it. "There's no point in your Pet judging you, Sir. I'm just here to assist however I can."

"Mhm. Right."

Peter falls silent, and focuses on making lunch as Sir languidly injects himself. At least that means he'll have to eat something now.

"...Sir, would you like me to assist in any way in terms of your drinking?" Peter asks, after a few minutes of anxious hesitation. "I could help you get sober, or help you limit the amount, or just take care of you when you're drunk?"

"I don't need taken care of," Elio mumbles. "...and I don't wanna get sober."

Peter doesn't understand Sir's insistence that he doesn't need to be taken care of. Most people can clean like Peter does, but Sir doesn't even put his mugs beside the sink. Sir doesn't eat properly, and the only time he even contemplated showering, Peter had to push him into actually doing it. Sir doesn't seem to hold down a job - in fact, he hasn't gone outside at all since Peter got here, and spends most of his time drinking or sleeping, and only ever does something else when Peter convinces him to.

So isn't that exactly what Peter is doing? Taking care of him?

"You don't have to get sober," Peter says, chipper as ever. "I mentioned other options. I could help you limit or just help you when you're drunk."

"I don't get drunk, so…" Elio leans against the cupboard, forehead pressed against his arm. "Fine. Limit. No more than, uh, three a day, I guess. Just stop me if I go for another. If you're gonna be so… insistent."

Peter nods. "I can do that, Sir."

Watching Peter do anything is like watching a well-oiled machine. He's precise and cautious and… happy isn't the right word. Content? He seems content, at least. Elio isn't sure if it makes him feel any better about this whole Pet situation.

Peter makes a plate of crackers and cheese, red grapes, and yogurt, and places it in front of Elio. "Here's your lunch, Sir. Eat it when you're ready."

Elio stares at it for a minute, before blinking back to awareness and realising Peter has turned to walk away. "Hold on, can you-"

Elio hooks two fingers into Peter's collar to drag him back and Peter screams.

The sound makes Elio jump back, but the collar is tight around Peter's neck and he can't pull his fingers free before Peter gags and crashes onto the linoleum.

Darling's eyes are wide, tiny irises flitting from the floor to Sir's feet to his own hands shooting to his throat. It's breathing too fast. It holds the breath for a moment, then lets the breath out, slowly, controlled. It's a good boy. It needs to stay completely calm.

It moves onto its knees and bows its head, hands flat on its thighs. It takes another deep breath. Calm.

"I'm sorry, Master," Darling says, quietly. Peter flinches. "S-Sir. Sorry."

"I- what are you sorry for?" Sir is just staring at it, like the only thing it's done wrong is confuse him. He! Peter is a smart Pet, why can't he remember this one tiny thing? He wasn't even always 'it' to Master, not even usually 'it' to Master, he doesn't know why he can't just make 'he' stick.

"For my emotional outburst," Peter replies, voice steady. "Please punish me to correct my mistake."

Maybe it's just because Sir doesn't like 'it'. Peter is just a bad Pet, of course he's still thinking of himself as 'it'. He deserves to be punished for that too, but he doesn't say that right now.

Elio blinks. "Sorry? Punish you?"

"Yes, Sir," Peter nods. "I could retrieve a belt, if you want. Or something else. I know I have no choice in this. Master belted me a lot, so it was the first thing I thought of."

"No, no, no, what?" Elio shakes his head and grasps desperately for something he can actually comprehend. "Stop. What did you freak out for?"

Peter's face burns in shame. "...Master used to choke me using my collar, Sir. I didn't… like it. I panicked because you've been so kind and I thought I had done something bad. I thought I had made you angry or disappointed you and the thought was a lot to handle."

Elio is barely taking any of this in. Peter screamed like he was trying to take the entire building down, and not even a minute later he was on his knees, still as a statue. Is that a trained response? To just bury all of that?

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Elio's vision is swimming for some reason. "I'm not gonna punish you for that. Don't be stupid."

"...oh." Peter resists the urge to fidget. "I'm sorry for being a stupid Pet, I shouldn't have assumed."

Elio groans. "Stop apologising for everything."

Peter balls his hands into fists. "Sir, it's unclear what I should apologise for. It's better that I over-apologise than under-apologise. You haven't given me any rules to follow so I'm sorry if I'm not up to your standards."

Elio stares at him for a very long moment. Peter covers his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut. How could he be so disrespectful? He spoke far too sharply. That must make him deserving of a punishment, right?

"You have a backbone," Elio finally says, monotone as ever. "Huh."

Peter waits, for the inevitable slap, the kick, the pulling on his hair and dragging him to be tied down and left for hours. But it doesn't happen.

"I guess I'm, uh, I'm not being fair to you," Elio mumbles, grabbing the counter suddenly. "I can't expect you to just deal with all this and be all, like, unsure about it. Especially with me being… me. I'll come up with some rules, I guess. If it'll make you feel better."

"You aren't going to punish me?" Peter's voice isn't more than a muffled squeak. "I- I talked back to you."

"Nah," Elio shrugs. "I don't care. Not gonna punish you for the collar thing either. It's clearly, like, a traumatic thing for you, so."

"...traumatic, Sir?" Peter slowly returns his hands to his thighs. "Pets don't… get trauma."

Elio snorts. "Yeah, I guess you'd call it training."

Sir says some strange things, but Peter really shouldn't be anything but grateful that Sir seems to find disrespect amusing (is amusing the right word for this?) rather than a punishable offence.

"Ah, fuck," Elio says, hissing through his teeth. "I'm gonna faint."

Peter is quick to his feet, and so Elio doesn't even fall any distance. His eyes roll back and he just goes limp in Peter's grip. Peter isn't completely surprised at how light Sir is - it proves Peter's right about how much Sir is eating. He manages to drag Sir to the sofa and sit him up, then collects the plate of food from the kitchen.

"Sir," Peter says gently. "Wake up."

"Mnn…" Elio frowns and twitches as he tries to wake up. "Uh…?"

Sir's phone isn't going off, so his blood sugar must be fine. When was the last time Peter saw him eat? It must have been… five in the morning yesterday, when he woke Peter up making that boxed macaroni.

"Sir, please eat." Peter brushes Elio's hair out of his face. "Don't make me call an ambulance because you won't eat."

Elio tries to mumble something along the lines of "so you're good at guilt-tripping too" but it doesn't come out. He just weakly nods and reaches for the plate.

After some crackers and a few sips of fruit juice, Elio sits up properly. He waves Peter off when Peter tries to kneel and lean against his leg.

"I'm not gonna, like, pet you or something," Elio says. "Can you just fuck off for a bit? I feel awful."

If Peter were an even worse Pet he'd say something like "and I wonder why that is" but he doesn't. He just nods, and smiles, and goes to the room he was given.

The smile falls as soon as Peter is alone. He sits on the futon, leg bouncing. Sir didn't give him anything else to do. Should he find something to do? But he already cleaned everything, and Sir doesn't need him for anything right now, and he's even made sure to take care of himself too, aside from bathing. He doesn't have any other clothes, and he doesn't want to ask Sir because Sir… clearly doesn't really care about him.

Not that he expects Sir to care. Sir doesn't need to care about him, only the other way around.

Peter chews his sleeve. Master would be so mad about it, but Master is gone. But Master would've pet his hair at least, even on an angry day, long fingers slowly running across his scalp. Peter wonders if Sir's hands would feel as nice. Peter wonders if he'll ever get to know.

He misses being Darling. At least Darling got to sit in Master's lap and feel loved.

But it's his own fault. That wasn't enough to stop him from ruining it all. He begs Master for forgiveness under his breath. He would take everything back. He'd live with only the memories of the blood on his hands and the knife he stole from the kitchen and the light leaving Master's eyes and nothing else if he could just take it back and curl up, playing with Master's hair until they both fell asleep.

Peter is being such a bad Pet. He should be thinking about Sir.

It wishes Sir would call him Darling with a hoarse throat and a messy kiss and make things feel right again. Peter kisses its knuckles and tries to pretend, as though they never had Master's blood on them at all.

taglist: @whumpsday @roblingoblin285 @whumpycries @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @clairelsonao3

#polly's prose #delicate #elio zagata #peter (darling) #whump #whump writing #pet whump #is it really my ocs if i don't go a little mad writing a bunch for them when i first make them? #elio: i hate all of this and this system is fucked up #also elio: *literally doesn't respect peter in any way*

[channiebelly]

Ooh, maybe a Wonwoo Chan where Wonwoo is already the feedee in the pair and has gotten comfortably big but his habits rub off on Chan who starts to blow up and enjoys the weight that he's putting. Wonwoo notices and starts to encourage and feed Chan so that they both just mutually gain instead of one focusing on the other.

Ooh this is such a good idea! I hope you like this.

Ship: Wonchan

Word count: 1.4k

As Wonwoo has packed on the pounds, getting him enough food has become harder and harder, but this place makes it easier.

Twice a week, Wonwoo and Chan go out to a local burger place. The burgers are massive, and not too expensive, so it's the perfect way to supplement Wonwoo's calorie intake.

They walk into the restaurant and Wonwoo immediately goes to take his seat at one of the tables while Chan goes up to order. They always sit at this same table; Chan sits on the booth side and Wonwoo sits on the other side on a chair that gives his belly pretty of space to expand. They have a routine.

Chan orders a burger for them each, always the same thing. For Wonwoo, it's the works, the largest burger they sell. For Chan, it's the chicken burger, not as big but still impressive. He also orders Wonwoo a large milkshake and himself a soft drink.

Chan comes back to the table and takes his seat. They chat idley as they wait for the food to come out.

The food is quick, and that's when the conversation stops, both of them too focused on eating to talk.

Wonwoo wolfs his down as fast as he can, and then drinks his milkshake. When he's done, he waits for Chan to finish so he can order Wonwoo another one.

Chan finishes his burger. Wonwoo is shocked. The burgers are massive. Truly enormous. Even Chan's smaller one is way bigger than average. When they started coming here five or so months ago Chan could only eat half, maybe two thirds of the burger. But now he's finished the whole thing.

Wonwoo wants to point it out but Chan goes to order Wonwoo's second meal before he can. It's another one of the massive works burgers. But this time there's a change to the routine; when the food comes out, there's a side of fries.

"What are the fries for?" Wonwoo asks.

"Me," Chan says, pulling them towards himself. "Watching you eat makes me hungry, so I had to get myself something too." He takes a big swipe of ketchup on a thick fry and sticks it in his mouth. "Eat your burger."

When did Chan develop the ability to eat so much? Wonwoo has been so focused on how much he eats and packing food into his own stomach, that he hasn't been focused on Chan. The order of fries is definitely a new thing, but how long has Chan been able to finish the burger by himself?

Wonwoo's habits have really been rubbing off on him.

Wonwoo notices something similar the next day. Chan cooks a thick, creamy pasta for dinner. When Wonwoo looks at Chan's portion, he notices for the first time how large it is.

Any portion would look small in comparison to the amount of food piled onto Wonwoo's plate, but when he looks at Chan's in isolation he realises how much Chan has been eating.

He wonders if Chan even notices.

Chan finishes his plate, and even goes back for seconds.

The same thing happens a few days later. Wonwoo is on the couch, stuffing himself with a massive heavy chocolate cake while Chan encourages him. But Chan has a slice of cake too, and in between praising Wonwoo, and encouraging to eat more, he's taking bites.

Usually, when stuffing, Wonwoo loses track of everything except the taste of the food and the satisfying feeling of his belly getting heavier and heavier, but today he forces himself to take notice of Chan.

Chan must eat at least three slices. Wonwoo's a bit miffed; that's food that he could've eaten, but at the same time, he thinks it's incredibly hot.

On Friday night, they go to a buffet. It's their favourite buffet, and they go here every week like clockwork.

Chan will deliver Wonwoo plate after plate and Wonwoo loves the feeling of losing control; of Chan deciding exactly what he has to eat and when.

But this time he pays more attention to what Chan's eating, and notices that every two or three times Chan goes up to refill Wonwoo's plate, he's refilling his own plate too.

By his count, Wonwoo eats eight plates, and Chan eats three. Three plates piled high with food.

Wonwoo's standards for what counts as a lot of food have been a bit destorted since he started consciously gaining, but he can still realise that that's a lot more food than the average person eats in one sitting.

Fuck, he's really rubbed off on Chan.

When they get home, Chan has to help Wonwoo get ready for bed. That amount of food always makes Wonwoo lethargic and clumsy, and Chan has to help him slip off his clothes, get into his pyjamas and brush his teeth. Wonwoo loves it.

Wonwoo has been gaining for around nine months now, and has put on a significant amount of weight. When he started he was around 155 pounds, but now he's more than doubled it. He has an impressive belly that has begun to droop down to cover his waist band, enormous thighs that have forced his walk to become a waddle, two chunky moobs that rest on the shelf of his belly and very chubby cheeks.

He loves the way he looks how, and Chan loves it too. Wonwoo has never felt more sexy than he does at 320 pounds.

Usually, he conks out as soon as his head hits the pillow but today he watches Chan get changed. He's noticed just how much Chan's been eating and wants to know how much his body has changed.

When Chan turns side on, Wonwoo almost gasps. Chan's belly is enormous. It's a taut dome that is impossible to ignore. Chan used to have a flat stomach so this is a massive change.

Wonwoo watches as Chan gingerly presses a finger into his side and it barely moves. He must be completely stuffed. Chan then runs a hand over the curve as he watches himself in the mirror.

Wonwoo wonders if Chan did this on purpose, or whether it was unintentional. He doesn't know which one he finds hotter.

Chan turns around a Wonwoo is given a full view of his backside. Chan has always had a nice butt, but it has definitely grown bigger. Shit, he's so hot.

Wonwoo surveys the rest of Chan's body. The stomach and the butt seem to be the only changes so far.

Chan has definitely noticed his body change, but Wonwoo doesn't know how he feels about it. He vows to bring it up to him tomorrow.

Chan slips into bed and attaches himself to Wonwoo's back. Wonwoo can feel the solid mass of his stomach pressing into his back. It feels good.

The next morning, after breakfast, Wonwoo is sat on the couch. "Chan, can you come here? I want to talk to you about something."

Chan walks over, and Wonwoo stares at his belly. It's extremely obvious through his shirt, which is almost stretched tight around the widest point. How did Wonwoo not notice it before?

Chan sits down next to him. "What's up?" His belly is almost resting on his lap.

"I noticed that you've been eating a lot more, and you've put on quite a bit of weight." Wonwoo reaches out and palms Chan's belly briefly, which even now is surprisingly solid. Chan blushes a deep red. "I just wanted to know how you feel about it?"

"Oh," Chan says. "I think at first, I didn't notice how much I was eating because anything compared to you looks small, but then I noticed this," he points to his belly, "and I actually really liked it. So I just kept eating as much as I felt like."

"I really like your belly too," Wonwoo says. He puts both of his hands back on Chan's belly and rubs small circles into it. Chan stifles a moan.

"I'm sorry for not mentioning it to you. I know you were really into the size difference between us, but it just happened."

"You have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart. It's your body, you can do what you want. And, yes, I was into our size difference, but I am also really into watching you get bigger."

"Really?" Chan asks.

"Definitely. How about this? Tonight, we can go back to the burger place, and you have to order two burgers, just like me. We can't leave until you finish them both."

Chan presses his belly further into Wonwoo's hands. "Okay," he says, breathlessly.

Wonwoo stands up and pulls Chan to his feet so they can kiss. Their bellies press into each other and Wonwoo feels a rush of arousal.

Chan with a belly is perhaps the best thing to ever happen to him.

#kpop feederism #svt feederism #fat wonwoo #chubby chan #feeder chan #wonchan

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I must say I am constantly baffled and angry that MPs can make such ludicrous amounts of money for doing absolutely nothing, meanwhile I can't eat any actual meals today because thanks to my job randomly falling through with no warning laying off several people I only have £30 to last me until next week. It's genuinely upsetting! Hate this country.

Yep! Let's get really angry. She became Education Secretary at about 9.30pm on Tuesday. I think it's fair to say that, if she did anything at all that night, it was likely just a super quick "Here's where I left the keys" chat with Nadhim Zahawi before he bustled off to stab Boris Johnson in the back with all 23 knives. Call it an hour.

Then she'll have slept. Let's assume for the sake of argument that took up eight hours, so she's up at 6.30 and into the office by about 7.30 - that seems about right for the long days the Cabinet are pulling at the minute in order to get their press briefings and resignation letters written etc.

So on the Wednesday, she works a full day. Starts at 7.30. She didn't tweet anything all day to get a timestamp from, nor did she say much to the press, to my knowledge - which makes sense, because Whitehall was basically on fire and Boris was probably going from room to room with a crazed look in his eye every half hour screaming ARE YOU AGAINST ME TOO??! or maybe even GOVE GET BACK HERE YOU SON OF A DICK, but also, she was probably learning what the actual job was - first day requires a lot of training, but the people who would normally have trained her all quit like dominoes. She probably took an hour's lunch though, and then... let's say a 6.30pm finish. It's a long shift, to be sure, but that's probably about right.

She goes home. She sleeps.

She hands in her resignation at 8.51am the next morning. IF she went into work and did anything before that, it was 'Getting the printer to work' for the resignation letter. No actual work.

So in total, I'd estimate she performed around 11 hours of labour for the Department of Education, and for that, she was given over £16,000. Not including whatever the salary increase would be for the two, maybe three days she'll be counted as having been there. No one on this planet achieves £16,000 worth of progress in their first day of a new job while the rest of their department quits around them. No one. And you just know a chunk of that will have been furtive conversations with others about how she should quit, and drafting the resignation letter.

Meanwhile, there are legions of people in this country right now choosing between eating and heating, or indeed cutting out meals like you are, Anon, in order to stretch funds that this government have made worthless. The mind boggles and the bile rises.

Anyway, listen - if you feel comfortable, send me a paypal or KoFi link or whatever you have, and I'll gladly share it. £30 until next week is horrifying, let's at least get you a couple of extra meals :/ If not, I don't know if you've heard of the Too Good To Go app, but I strongly recommend if not - I use it when money gets tight and it's great for stretching a limited food budget. Take care of yourself, and I hope things pick up soon

#politik #asks

[aching-tummies]

True Stomach Ache

Members of my household (myself included) have been pretty busy lately. Due to that, we've been surviving on leftovers. We tend to batch-cook maybe two or three times a week or order a massive amount of take-out the one night in order to have it in the fridge to re-heat when it's time for a meal. Honestly, not my favorite strategy. Leftovers are already kind of lackluster…but 4-6 day old 'what was once curry' should be considered lethal. Personally, my rule of thumb is 3 days--if it's been in the fridge for 3 days then I don't want to eat it anymore. Unfortunately, that's the kind of thing that's been going into my poor tum for the last three days or so. I haven't had the time to cook and fast-food and stuff in my area is becoming increasingly overpriced and decreasing in quality. I don't want to spend the equivalent of 1.5 hours of pay on something that tastes like the cardboard and plastic it was shipped to the store in so I've opted not to eat out. With eating out not an option, I've been subjecting myself to the mystery leftovers in our fridge alongside other members of my household. They get mad at me when I don't help liquidate the leftovers anyway and I didn't want to be stressed and yelled at so I drank the proverbial Kool-aid (in this case, curry). My stomach really isn't happy about it. I guess last night and this morning, my tummy decided to get even.

Last night we had yet another dinner of 4 day old curry. Thank heavens for the fact that we have enough washrooms in the house for everyone because everyone suffered for the curry last night. Due to the curry's repeated exits, I ended up going to bed ravenous--'dinner' having been rejected by my stomach. I was too tired to bother trying to find something to fill my stomach so I opted to go to sleep hungry--thinking that at the very least I could treat myself to some hunger-kink in the morning.

Hopes of indulging in hunger-kink were dashed when I woke up due to a nasty twinge in my lower belly. It felt like a cross between period cramps and the urge to use the washroom. My intestines were empty though, thanks to the curry liquidating my guts a half dozen times last night. So…my stomach and intestines were empty, but they were all cramping up like they needed to go. I ended up writhing on my bed for a few hours, trying anything to quell the ache in my intestines. I tried rubbing it for a bit, which didn't help. I tried laying a weighted sack over it in hopes it'd squash the ache. The 'sack' is really just one of those microwavable heating packs filled with either grains or plastic beads or whatever. Even without heating it up, sometimes just the weight of it is pretty comforting when I've got stomach issues.

It's been a long time since I've truly felt like I experienced a true 'stomach ache'--like…this wasn't what I'd normally describe as indigestion or period cramps or being overfull or hungry--there was seemingly no cause and no explanation for my stomach to ache like it was this morning. I had initially planned to try sugarless bears take 2 today…but my guts were already being put through the wringer so I decided to save them for another time.

As always, if you want to treat this like an RP-starter, feel free. Honestly, with how often my stomach's been acting up I've been really thirsty for tum-content lately. I'm definitely not gonna doxx myself of whatever but at times I wish I could just meet up with someone into this stuff and let my stomach be their problem (or I guess, toy?) for a few hours.

#tummy ache #tummy ache kink #indigestion #upset stomach kink #belly rubs

[twbutterfly-milk]

WIEIAD TW: ED, undereating, cals, mention of ed thoughts+food guilt, this is your kind reminder to scroll away if this is the kind of thing that triggers you OR if you're considering/in recovery or if u just shouldn't/don't want to be consuming this content.

WIEIAD recovering from being sick and for some reason i actually had more than 2 meals today??? (Usually the absolute max) this is good ig, gonna try to be happy instead of sad abt this. I'm vegetarian btw in case anyone is wondering why there's no meat or fish in my day.

Breakfast: Had some oatmeal but instead of using a splash of milk and mostly water, i used a splash of a chocolate protein shake my grandpa bought me, i can't stand liquid cals but i wanted to try it since protein shakes are usually like THE fit thing, it was way too high cal, i did have some more later but then i gave the rest to my younger sibling, cuz it's essentially choc milk and obv she liked it so idrc. With the oatmeal, i had an apple, and recently i replaced sugar with honey for most things idk why it was kind of random but it happened so i used a teaspoon of honey to sweeten the oatmeal instead of sugar. After that i had an orange (hard to believe i used to be scared of fruit bc of "sugars" and how "calorically dense" they are, i'm still pretty sensetive with fruit but i do eat them. Ngl i think the orange was a binge bc i rly wasn't going to have it and i didn't even want it and i felt full and had knew it was just gonna add calories, but i ate most of it out of control and threw away the last two slices, felt really bad after the binge too Cals: 364

Lunch: had some leftover ig stew? It's a traditional dish called "canja" but it's essentially a chicken stew and all the other ingredients can vary quite a bit, i had half a boiled carrot, with 2tbsp of the rice and i added 1tbsp of canned black eyed peas for protein and heated it all up. Afterwards, i had about half a berry yoghurt and threw the rest away :/ Cals: 98

Pm snack: had a small slice of melon and a 10kcal zero sugar jelly, it's so good and cheap, i bought it when i was sick cuz i felt like gelatin so i wouldn't puke again but i couldn't stand sugar so problem solved. Cals:28

Dinner: had like 5 bits of colourful twisty pasta (sry idk the name of it, it's like penne pasta but it's twisted and not hollow, yk?), and another 1/2 of boiled carrot, with 1tbsp of black eyed peas and less than half a beetroot. Cals: 66

Late night/post dinner snack: immediately after dinner i got hiccups and i hate hiccups; they're terrible so i had some tea to calm down (it actually kind of worked? Thank God cuz hiccups are so painful) and a plain buiscuit. Cals: 31

Daily total: 587kcal (trying not to be too harsh on myself, especially as i was literally sick yesterday but i still feel terrible as this is more than double my daily limit, ik that's terrible). Got around 23grams of protein, which is prob not enough, i could have just had the full protein shake as it would have given me 25g of protein but i'm really scared of liquid calories.

Water: not sure exactly how much but i know i got at least 2L, prob a little over it. My goal is 3L when i do overexercise a lot but 2.5L when i do nornal exercise. When i don't reach this goal i have to have at least 2L otherwise i feel bad.

Exercise: decided to try out sprint intervals instead of long running but only managed 6mins or so of 30:30 sprint intervals, so i learnt something new to work on, increasing my resistence during sprinting. Looking on the positive side of things is always nice ♡ (≈50cals?)

Sleep: tommorow i don't have school so despite going to bed at almost 12pm i'm hoping to sleep a lot. Update, i had maybe 7hrs or so. Not enough as the amount women need is between 8-10hrs and men only need around 7-8hrs (again gonna depend on a lot of other things, don't feel bad for sleeping "too much", if ur concerned it could be a symptom of something, visit a doctor if you can cuz both being under and overly tired can be a sign smth is worng, but as long as ur having at least the minimum amount it's fine ig). Sorry i just wanted to info dump abt the amount of sleep u need hehe, but srsly i haven't been getting enough sleep recently which sucks cuz i love sleeping.

I know it was a lot of writing. Stay safe and have a good day 🩷

[redstringraven]

in wake of the "don can't cook" post, here're my personal hcs on the boys and cooking (with also @plantdonutwrites addition of why mikey got into cooking lmao).

don: generally not great with cooking due to being spacey/easily distracted/losing track of time. can easily follow a recipe up until it's time to put something in the oven, leave it on the stove, or otherwise let the thing idle for a given amount of time. that's when we enter the danger zone. will forget to take meat out of the freezer to defrost. might set a timer for something, the timer goes off but he's in the middle of working, turns the timer off, says "i'll get it in a minute" and then a half hour later the food is harder than bricks. doesn't "burn water" but will forget he prepped water to boil and return to find that it's all evaporated and he has to start over. might do it a second time.

leo: great cook (sorry, fanon, i can't side with you on this one) and enjoys cooking/general meal-making, especially for his family. finds the process kind of therapeutic and very rewarding. this is one of the bonding activities he does with mikey, actually, and the two of them will often cook together. is the person who might wander around asking "hey, i'm about to make [insert meal] do you want any?" because he prefers cooking for more than just himself. especially enjoys discovering new 'family' recipes, perhaps passed down to him by april, angel, master splinter, or even usagi if earth 2 and 3 ingredients are similar enough to be substituted for. wouldn't surprise me if he asked about recipes during christmas aliens, from the folks who brought food.

mikey: excellent cook. has always been a bit of a foodie but, per jenn: 'he woke up one morning and chose Petty Violence and got really into cooking because he realized humans sometimes have 'a thing' where the people who cook don't have to do the dishes afterward, and doing the dishes is mikey's least favorite chore. so, if he cooks, he doesn't have to do dishes. wound up genuinely loving to cook. i like to think s1 mikey was like "i can scramble eggs!" and post s4 mikey is like "check out this souffle that i set on fire to caramelize and i made homemade mousse whipped cream enjoy".' as previously stated, cooking's become a bonding activity between him and leo, with leo preferring to stick to the recipe and keeping on task/track but mikey being a little more adventurous and willing to experiment and cook intuitively--especially during the times they might be a bit more limited on ingredients. they can make a mean meal together.

raph: can cook, prefers not to. rarely cooks for himself, and when he does cook he dabbles heavily in the "comfort food" and savory foods. when raph cooks, it's usually because someone needs the warm meal. maybe he has a sick brother, a sad friend who needs an old classic pick-me-up, or just senses the vibes are off in the studio today. so, here's the best grilled cheese and tomato soup combo you've ever had. don't ask him how he did it or how he knew what you needed. it's not important. just shut up and eat. you're welcome.

#;hannah's headcanons #;tmnt #;donatello #;leonardo #;michelangelo #;raphael #[ not putting this in the actual tag because i feel annoying jfkld ] #[ unsure if i'll keep the hc tag either but whatev; i'm very tired ] #[ i don't talk hcs often but seeing mine for don be ''''confirmed''' even loosely made me happy JFKLDJ ] #[ GOOD FOR HIM ]

[madaboutmunson]

Again - Part 10

Part 1 | Part 9 | Part 11 | Full list of Again series links

Steddie fic where Steve and Eddie are in their mid 30's and everyone has sort of drifted apart

Taglist: @adaed5 @grtwdsmwhr @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mightbeasleep, @jewellthebooknerd

================================================

Steve returns to his food and tries to shake off whatever that just was.

"So, what exactly were you both up to on the court before I got out there?" Steve directs his question at Corey and Morgan. They look wide-eyed at their plates, then exchange a glance biting their lips back, and then turn to Steve. Bravely Morgan speaks first.

"Well, I was just trying to show him that he doesn't need to be the tallest guy out there if he's got a good team around him."

"You know what, Morgan, you’re absolutely right. Thank you. Though I'm sure it won't be an issue for long, Cor, you're only eight. You've got loads of time" Steve smiles hugely at the boys and looks pleased. Even though their generation seems to be in the throws of glamorising violence, extreme sports and derogatory behaviour, it was great to see two kids being kind to one another.

Mouth half full of food, Eddie speaks, "And how exactly did you do that, hmmm?" The boy's beaming faces turn to alarm, and Eddie turns calmly to Steve, "Vague answer. They're hiding something" Eddie pokes at his food again and takes another bite. Then, turning back, he looks between them, putting down his fork and steepling his fingers to his mouth, "Let's break this down, shall we? Something around height and other people…sooooo, ah, you threw him up in the air at the basket" Morgan looks very nervous again and is flanked by Beans.

"Flipped", Corey adds with a smirk, and Eddie returns an impressed eyebrow raise.

Steve puts his knife and fork down and says slowly, almost like he's trying to comprehend it simultaneously, "You were flipped through the air at the hoop?!" His hand rubs at his chest.

"Told you it would give you a heart attack" Corey laughs and shakes his head.

Steve feels awkward. Yes, the thought of his boy getting flipped through the air like a pancake at a metal hoop was terrifying, but he didn't want to seem like a complete spoilsport. Neither of them was harmed, and he guessed Morgan was probably only doing it to win over Corey, at which he had succeeded where many had failed. Steve feels Zee staring at him and turns to see a slight pleading look in her eyes. Steve swallows, "Well, you know, neither of you is hurt, so I'm not gonna make it a big thing. Just um, maybe something less risky next time, right guys?"

"Right," the boys say in unison, but one with defeat and the other with relief.

Steve turns to Eddie and mouths silently, "Was that ok?" He could feel the worry creasing on his brow. He knows how to speak to his kids but doesn't want to overstep with Morgan. Eddie looks at Steve with a sweet smile, and under the table, his knee nudges Steve's leg.

"Perfect", he mouths back, and Steve grins back like he won the jackpot or something.

The meal goes by with them generally chatting about school, D&D and music, mainly letting the kids take the lead on conversation until it's time for dessert. Eddie dabs his mouth with a napkin and asks, "Kids, think you can clear the table for dessert if we go get it? I mean, Steve did kinda do all of this." 

"It's fine, really. It won't take me five minutes," Steve says, quickly reaching for some of the dishes. Corey slaps his hand away.

"He did a lot today, didn't he?" Zee agrees with a beaming smile, but not without a small amount of teasing, "Sure, why not, right?" She looks over at Morgan, who agrees immediately, which prompts a shrug from Corey, who starts piling up some plates.

"Onward! To the castle! To retrieve the dessert in distress!" Eddie booms, leaping out of his seat and tugging at Steve's arm. With a jolt, Steve follows him out to the motorhome.

Eddie pulls out the steps and opens the door waving Steve inside first. Ascending the stairs, Steve is quite unprepared for the beautiful aroma that hits him from a space occupied by one grown man and a teenage boy. Was that peaches? Once inside, Steve takes the place in, and guiltily he thinks this place is a lot tidier than he was expecting. Eddie wasn't gross or disgusting, but he was, as it said on the outside of his home, a hurricane. Steve remembers piles of utter chaos around his room in the trailer, and sure sometimes he might forget where something was and get wound up about it, but eight times out of ten, he could walk straight up to one of the said piles or boxes and reach in and find exactly what he was looking for. This place looked terrific, sure the teal furnishings were a bit much, but Steve could see that Eddie mostly tried to cover those with throws or cushions made out of band flags or crocheted material. Above all else, he's surprised about how roomy it was besides the narrow mini hallway towards the back. 

"Wow, Eddie, this is amazing!" Steve says, and it's genuine, he always dreamt of owning something like this, but his life had been a little different in that dream. Six little nuggets instead of two and Nancy instead of no one. Eddie's comment from earlier repeats in his head. I'm really happy that all the choices I've made led me right here. Steve couldn't have agreed more. Eddie steps inside, too and shuts the door behind him.

"Sorry, old habit." He says awkwardly, turning and opening it again.

"If I got yelled at as many times as you did for leaving it open, I would always close it behind me too," Steve laughs, remembering, "How is he?"

"He's old and crabby, you know, like always", Eddie jokes, as he points to a photo hanging up, "That was his sixtieth birthday. I wanted to take him to see the Chippendales but his old man, Jack, got all uptight about it. So we had a meal out…and then I took him to see the Chippendales… in Vegas… the very next weekend" Eddie smiles fondly at the picture, "He's doing good for his age. It's why I don't like to stray too far from the remains of Hell-kins for too long these days. I know he stays there because Jack freaks out every time he goes somewhere new, you know. Sometimes he forgets who we are or when he is, and Wayne, gods love him, does everything he can to help him." Eddie folds his arms around himself and looks at the picture of him and Wayne, "It's diabolical, isn't it?"

"What is? Steve asks, looking at the picture. Wayne still had that sparkle in his eyes and that huge smile that was solely reserved for Eddie as far as Steve had seen. He hadn't known him long, but Wayne's impact on him had been tremendous. He made Steve think that along with the criminal track record, the other thing the Munson name should be known for is melting the iciest of exteriors and making people feel at ease. Well, on the right side of them, cross them, and they'd give you hell. Wayne was one of the few positive parenting role models that Steve thought about when dealing with his own kids. How he managed Eddie daily was nothing short of a miracle, but Eddie gave back that love and care in his own unique ways in droves.

"That destiny made him wait for his person for so long and then took him away in less than half the time he waited" Eddie shakes his head, "Always gotta be looking after something or someone, huh,  Uncle Wayne?" he says planting a kiss on his fingers and gently places them on the picture. Eddie turns back to Steve and kicks at the floor a little, glancing down as he does, "He says hello, by the way." He says, looking up with a shy smile, and it's like something in Steve shifts again.

"He remembers me?" Steve says softly like he can't believe it.

Eddie snorts out a laugh like Steve's question is ridiculous, "Of course he does! His little Sunshine Steve? Christ, he wouldn't shut up when I told him I saw you at the library. Steve this, and Steve that. Practically swallowed the phone with the gasp he took when I said you had kids." Eddie pretends to be annoyed, but a laugh makes a smile break out across his face, creasing up his scars. Steve half smiles at Eddie and then at the picture. He always used to call him that, Little Sunshine. Even though when they met, he was almost a full-grown adult. Ah, here's the lil' Sunshine we've been waiting on he can hear Wayne gruffly say with a smile from the seat on the front porch of their replacement trailer. Even just recalling his voice saying it warms Steve's heart, someone older than him treating him with fondness, with a nickname he didn't even have to earn. Fond memories like that make him sure that Wayne is the most incredible grandfather to Morgan too. It's weird how you can know someone your whole life, and they just don't have the same impact as someone you knew for a blip of that. The time between Wayne getting a new place and Eddie leaving Hawkins was short a few months. Steve halts his brain from travelling down this painful road. They'd had a great day, and he didn't want to ruin it now.

"Would you say hello back for me next time you speak to him?" Steve asks tentatively.

"Of course, even though I'll have to sit through him going on and on about you" Eddie flails his hand in the air and then pushes his hands into his lower back as he tucks in his bottom lip, "But you'll totally owe me a huuuuge favour then, Steve" he sways from side to side a little looking directly at Steve now, "but I digress. The tour"

Eddie shows him around the Four Winds Hurricane. He's only had it a few years and got it at a steal because although it was only a few years old, some damage slashed the price. Luckily Eddie was able to fix it easily by himself. The kitchen has a full oven and gas stovetop, above it a microwave, to the left of that two small sinks behind them a refrigerator littered with notes, postcards, pictures and novelty magnets, and a small table with two chairs tucked underneath it. The snug hallway has a vanity area, wardrobe, and bathroom. There is a bedroom which is currently closed off because it's summer, so it's Morgan's space. He reassures Steve that he always gets Morgan a new mattress for the summer and laughs heartily. Then they move towards the front of the vehicle, where a sofa pulls out into a bed on one side, in front of that the driver and passenger seats, a TV in the centre console between them. Eddie sits side-on in the passenger seat and pats the driver's one, "Wanna try it out?" He beams up at Steve, who excitedly gets in the seat, "You wanna take her for a spin?" Eddie tempts him, and boy does he, but Steve doesn't really want to stray too far from the kids.

"Maybe next week?" Steve asks with a regretful smile.

"Sure thing", Eddie agrees as Steve reaches out to get a feel for the steering wheel. As his hands grip around it, his mind does that channel flip again, except this time he knows exactly what it was. He can still hear the yelling and screaming, remembering when they stole the RV with Eddie's help from the trailer park. He remembers talking to Nancy. Brain static. He looks down. He's in a jacket with patches and a protective vest and driving, but there is silence, which is worse than the yelling and screaming. His stomach sinks, crushed under the waves of dread. He looks over his shoulder and can see Eddie in the backseat. His scarless pale face emphasises his dark eyes looking out the window in trepidation. He won't look back at him, and Steve knows why. 

Steve's driving him to his doom.

"STEVE!!" he hears suddenly and is jolted out of his memories. Eddie's hands are clamped on his shoulders so tightly it hurts, his eyes wide with fear. Steve blinks, and Eddie inhales sharply, releases him and flops back in his seat with relief, "Jesus Christ, Steve. What the fuck?!"

"Eddie, I'm so sorry. I just- When I- You know what, it doesn't matter, are you ok?" Steve thinks about explaining, but it will just make him sound insane.

"Oh, it matters! The last person that froze on me fucking levitated and snapped into a million pieces. Did you see anything? It can't be him, right? He's gone, isn't he?" Steve can feel the panic start to work Eddie up again.

"Listen to me", Steve speaks calmly, reaches out and puts his hand on Eddie's shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "He's long gone. This is gonna sound crazy, ok, but when I touched the wheel, my brain just took me back to driving that stolen RV. Some kind of memory trigger. I didn't mean to scare you."

Eddie's face relaxes again a little, but his brow is still pinched in concern. He's not looking at Steve. Instead, his eyes search some imaginary far-off point beyond the floor. "You called for me. I answered you, but you just sat there. Like, frozen." his voice trembles when he replies.

"Hey, we're ok. You're safe. Nothing bad is gonna happen, ok? I'm here. The kids are inside. It's all gonna be ok, Eddie. I promise," he says reassuringly as Eddie hides his face in his hands.

"Sorry, Steve. I just panicked, you know. I should have thought about it before asking you to sit in that seat." Eddie closes his eyes and sighs before sitting in his seat towards Steve, "Does that happen often? I know you get lost in your thoughts sometimes, but that wasn't the same as earlier. I was calling you for a while there," Eddie asks with concern.

"The dog normally helps. She can tell, barks, and it pulls me out before it gets too much. Before I got her, someone was usually around, you know. Jenny or the kids. In answer to your question, it doesn't happen that much, mainly because of Beans. It used to happen more years ago, and it's happened twice today. Earlier wasn't so bad because it was something I didn't know about, so I didn't think it was the same thing, but this was something I've recalled a thousand times. The detail is so strong, and it just sort of pulls me right back into it," Steve sighs in frustration. "I'm not making much sense, am I? God, I must sound insane to you" Steve rubs his eyes with his fingertips in frustration. He feels Eddie's hand on his upper back.

"Nothing you could say to me would ever make me genuinely think that Steve. Not a thing in this world or any other." Eddie says gently, and when Steve finally looks up to check in his eyes if he's telling the truth, he adds, "I promise," offers him a small smile and points at the window, "Do me a favour, pull those curtains shut. I wanna show you something." Steve eyes him curiously. "Don't worry, it's nothing lewd, Steve. I use it when I can't sleep cus of the nightmares" Steve pulls the curtains across, and Eddie gets the others and shuts the door, and the motorhome descends into darkness, where Steve can just about make things out. Eddie guides him to the little sofa by the forearm, "Sit down here and look up".

Steve sits on the sofa next to Eddie. The seat is large enough to have space between them, not that Steve would mind greatly if there wasn't. He looks up at the ceiling and can just make out the ripples of the dark fabric that he's now only noticed attached to this part of the ceiling. There is a click to his right, and tiny dots of light appear across the dark space. Then he starts to make out some patterns and lets out a happy exhale of realisation. It's part of the night sky, in miniature. They sit silently for a little while, and Steve feels his heart rate slow down and a fuzzy peaceful feeling swim over him. He remembers this, only this time, neither of them is drunk, high or both. It almost overwhelms him to know that Eddie uses something from their shared past to comfort him, just like Steve does.

"I'll say this for it, it's much comfier than a car bonnet or trailer roof," Steve says quietly as if to not disturb the fake stars in their pretend sky. 

"Yeah, and I don't have to wait for a clear sky either. It's always here," Eddie says, and Steve can hear the smile in his voice. A few more moments pass in the dark and quiet.

"It was just cheap bourbon," Steve says, eyes still trailing over the lights.

"Huh?" Eddie almost laughs.

"In the decanter upstairs, it's not the expensive stuff. I tried that, and it tasted much better, but it didn't help", Steve adds, "So I went to find the cheapest bourbon I could, and honestly, it's disgusting, but it works" Steve feels Eddie's hand find his on the seat between them.

"Like we used to drink,'' Eddie softly confirms he understands, and Steve hums in agreement, pushing his hand further into Eddie's. There is another quiet patch before a solemn "I'm sorry I left, Steve" breaks the silence.

"No, please. I don't wanna hear that, Eddie. Don't be sorry for leaving, it really doesn't matter. Thank you for coming back," Steve says with a smile illuminated by the dim, warm white lights. He feels a squeeze on his hand and returns it. Then two squeezes which he returns again. Then an exchange of three, Eddie laughs gently in the subtle light. "Thank you for this. For everything, really. No pressure, but I'm really happy you're back, no matter how long." Steve manages to say the words but doesn't dare to deliver them directly to Eddie, so he sends them into the air above them, "We should probably go back to mine, though. We've left three kids in a kitchen by themselves," Steve says, making Eddie chuckle. He pats Steve's hand as he lets it go, clicks the lights off and gets up to open the curtains.

Eddie picks up a dish towel and opens the oven retrieving a very ornately decorated pie. The pastry lattice work on top is a beautiful golden brown adorned with other pastry embellishments made to look like leaves and berries. "Eddie, don't you have any oven mitts?"

"Yes, they're in the drawer!" Eddie says, shutting the oven, waving his hand a little as he places the pie on the stovetop.

"Then why aren't you using them? You'll burn your hands!" Steve says like he's telling off one of the kids.

"I'm a grown man Steve. I can stand a little heat from a pie, from an oven that wasn't even switched on," Eddie says with a bit of sass.

"Oh, is that so?" Steve says, putting his hands on his hips and leaning into his space a little, making Eddie grin. "Well, it will be pretty painful to hold my hand again with burnt fingers, won't it?" Eddie blinks and hurriedly retrieves the oven gloves from the drawer and puts them on. Steve smiles satisfactorily, and Eddie pretends to be really put out by the request, but the corners of his mouth curl up occasionally.

"We'll get the door for me then, Mr Health and Safety, or have I gotta do everything around here?!" Eddie says in a false annoyed voice, picking up the pie in his oven-mitted hands. Steve opens the door for him and lets him out first as they return to the house.

As they open the door, Steve can hear the kids deep in debate about something,

"Seriously, you can't truly believe that?" He hears Corey scoff, "Like, he's great and everything, but cool is not a word I'd associate with him. You haven't seen his dancing."

"I hate to do it, but I agree with my brother. He's the best but cool, no," Mackenzie giggles, "Is this something Eddie told you? Because I can tell you this for sure, he is definitely biased regarding Dad. Like, majorly!" Steve turns and looks at Eddie, who shakes his head and shrugs.

"No. He has never said anything like that. Well, not directly. I've got this book. I've had it since I was a kid. Eddie made it for me." Morgan starts, and Steve looks at Eddie again, who is picking up his pace towards the kitchen. Steve catches up to him, silently stops him, points at the telephone table, and Eddie reluctantly puts the pie down. "I was sick a lot when I was little, always in and out of the hospital, and he told me these stories a bunch of times. The main character in them was my favourite, and I asked him if he'd write them down so that other people could read them to me when he wasn't around. Well, Eddie, being the way he is, didn't just write it down. He made me a whole damn book. It's a story about a Prince. In the beginning, he's mean because that's how all the people in his kingdom are. Then one day, he meets a princess, and he falls in love, but she's not all she seems. Secretly she's a badass monster hunter, and unfortunately for the Prince, she is so deep in the grief for her friend that she can't love him back. So the Prince is horrible to her and banishes her from the kingdom. He asks his advisors for help when he realises his mistake, but they only know meanness and cruelty, and the Prince can see what a terrible place his kingdom is for the first time. The Prince knows that deep down, he isn't mean and cruel, but it's all he's known his whole life. He goes to find the princess to apologise, but when he gets there, he doesn't find the Princess. He finds her as a monster hunter trying to save a young boy with his brother. The Prince, seeing her with another man, is heartbroken and nearly goes back home to his kingdom, but he hears her scream and charges into battle. He finds a magic mace, and together they defeat the evil monster and save the boy. But that's just the first story. The Prince becomes a monster hunter too. He battles monsters and bad guys and, through the Princess, makes a whole new group of friends that they protect fiercely and save the world." Steve looks over at Eddie, who is busy looking around the hallway, avoiding his eyes, foot tapping.

"Ok, great story and everything, but what does that have to do with Dad? He's not an author," Corey laughs.

"Wait a minute," Zee says thoughtfully, "Did one of these stories have a super brave bard in it who looks after people in the village? Like the pied Piper, but he saves a whole town instead of leading all the kids away? I can't remember it all now" Eddie's eyes shoot to him, and suddenly the ceiling fascinates Steve.

"No...oh hang on, actually…there was a bard, but he wasn't brave, he was a coward, he disobeyed the Prince's orders, but the Prince saved him and carried him all the way home." Morgan says curiously before continuing, "But my point is the Prince in my stories is your Dad. Obviously, the monsters are a metaphor for something, maybe like bullies? I don't know. Your dad is a hero."

"It could be anyone, though, right? So how do you know it's our Dad?" Zee asks.

Morgan clears his throat and, in a theatrical voice, says, "For the Prince, despite the cold-heartedness that surrounded him, had glorious hair and handsome eyes of warmest brown. The gods themselves spilt their honey to give him golden sparkles in his eyes, so he would never know true darkness, and upon his golden skin, they mapped the stars, so he would never lose his way" Steve notices Eddie is blushing a little and decides to cut him some slack. He nudges him and points at the pie and then at the kitchen. Eddie gives him an apologetic smile, picks up the pie and walks into the kitchen.

"I don't get it," Corey says, and there is a slight clattering of plates.

"I do," Zee says softly.

"Get what?" Says Eddie, and Morgan gulps nervously at his sudden presence as he places the pie on the table.

"Oh, all the hype around Britney Spears", Zee replies quickly.

"That's not-" Corey starts before yelping as Zee rushes towards him, and he runs around the table back to his seat.

"Wow, this looks great, guys!" Steve says as he grabs a knife and a pie server from the drawer. 

"It's a peach Melba pie," Morgan says excitedly, "it's got peaches and raspberries in it. I hope you don't mind Mr Harrington. I made a little batch of creme anglaise, or it's nice with ice cream too, or just on its own, well, if you like those flavours. Do you like peaches and raspberries?" Morgan rambles, and Eddie pushes his hands out before him, encouraging him to relax. Steve turns to Morgan with raised eyebrows and a smile.

"You just whipped up a creme anglaise?" Steve asks in surprise.

"Yes, sir. Only learned to make it this summer, and it goes really nicely with so many desserts. You can make it thicker, and then it's more of a custard like British people have, like the consistency of a vanilla pudding almost" Steve can see the enthusiasm on his face, all wide eyes, solid eye contact and animated hands, just like when Zee would tell him of her D&D escapades. Steve hands the utensils to Morgan.

"I'm impressed by our manners Morgan, but Steve is fine. Why don't you serve the dessert how it's supposed to be? I'm happy to try your recommendations," Steve says kindly.

Morgan straightens up and positively beams at Steve, "Ok, yeah, I can do that. Um, ok, so" he excitedly gets up and starts serving a pie slice for everyone. Zee seems to get the biggest and most decorative portion, "So, um yeah, you can try a bit of it on its own, and then I'll pour you a spot of the creme anglaise, and you can try that, and if you like it, you can have as much as you like." Morgan sits in his chair but doesn't touch his pie. His fingers tap together nervously as he watches everyone else. Steve tastes a small piece of the pie. Initially, he tastes the flavours he expects of the peach, raspberry and pastry, but then the layers start to come through the crisp, sweet butteriness of the pastry, the slight detection of spices mixed in with the fruit, and his taste buds are in heaven. Steve emits a noise of bliss that potentially should not be heard at the dinner table, making Eddie nearly choke on his food.

"Wow. That is really something else. Where did you get this?" Steve asks about to take another bite before a very pleased Morgan gets out of his seat, stops his hand before he takes another forkful, pours a little of the accompaniment onto the pie and stands back to watch him. Steve would have gladly finished the pie as is, he's still determining how this sauce will improve on the most delicious pie he's ever eaten in his life, but he tries it anyway.

Of course, he's wrong. The addition was perfect. The tartness of the fruit and spices burst through the creamy soft vanilla on his tongue, and it is incredible. He shuts his eyes a moment to savour it, and when he opens his eyes, he looks happily at Morgan, "It's good. Really good, Morgan." He moves around the table, doing the same for everyone else except for Eddie, whose slice Morgan covers entirely, and circles back to Steve.

"Do you want any more si-Steve? Morgan asks

 "Sure do!" Steve enthuses, and Morgan pours a zig-zag over the rest of Steve's pie. 

"That should be a good balance," he says, sitting back down to eat his own serving and putting the pouring jug between them all, which Eddie immediately reaches for, receiving a cautioning look from Morgan. Eddie huffs and goes back to his pie.

"I, um, I made the pie," Morgan says nervously, not taking his eyes off his plate.

"You did not!" Corey blurts out, traces of raspberry around his mouth, reaching for the jug. "You must have got this from one of those fancy bakery places. Like the one Val used to work at," he says, pouring the addition onto his pie. Steve instinctively goes to tell Corey off, but Eddie nudges his leg and shakes his head with a little frown. 

"I'm totally serious, dude! I made it in the RV!" Morgan says back quickly.

"Did not!" Corey says, taking another mouthful.

"Did too!" Morgan rapidly fires back to a grinning Corey.

"You did not! I didn't see you make it, so I don't believe you!" Corey says and exchanges a glance with Zee.

"Yeah, for the second time today, I have to begrudgingly agree with my brother. We didn't see you make it. This could be from anywhere," Zee says with a disappointed tone.

Morgan points at Eddie, "He saw me make it."

Eddie looks at the pouring jug and then at Morgan, "Technically, all I saw was it come out of the oven. But, unfortunately, I was busy working."

"Noodling on your guitar, you mean?" Morgan says in frustration before looking at Steve with hopeful eyes, then just out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches Corey sending a wink to Eddie, and Zee giggles 

"If it's worth anything, Morgan. I believe you, but to prove these naysayers wrong, maybe you'll just have to come back and make another?" Steve suggests.

"I could do that? I mean, yeah. I could do that! Then you'd have to believe me," Morgan says, questioning at first and then slipping into confidence.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to come back then," Eddie says, sighing, trying his best not to smile. Steve hooks his ankle around Eddie's under the table, and after taking in the initial cute jump of surprise he does, Steve goes back to finishing his pie.

One communal table clean up and two very heated games of go fish later, it's time for Eddie and Morgan to head home. Steve really should be used to card games getting out of control between his kids, but add Eddie to the mix, and it was chaos. At least Morgan was a small oasis of calm for Steve to smile over at whilst the arguments ensued. Steve wasn't sure how the goodbyes would go, but unfortunately, it was just a wave exchange this time. 

As the kids are getting ready for bed, Steve hovers in the door frame of his bathroom. He isn't entirely sure why, but they always brushed their teeth together in his bathroom every night they were here. Though he could guess it probably had something to do with the amount of toothpaste, they'd get all over his mirror.

"So, er, did you enjoy today?" Steve asks. He gets enthusiastic nodding in response over the sound of vigorous brushing, "Happy for them to visit again?" Immediate nodding from Zee, a thoughtful pause and then a nod for Corey. "Cor?" Steve inquires, and Corey swills out his mouth to speak.

"I liked them well enough, it was fun, and the pie was great, but um…Ken can handle herself, I think. I'm just a bit worried about you, Dad," Corey says with genuine concern, and Steve tries his best not to laugh, "This Eddie guy, he's funny and cool, I guess, but he's not like you. He's kinda crazy, and I don't want him to make you big sad, is all. You know, like some of the other dates." Steve's heart sinks. He thought he'd hidden his disappointments well enough over the last few years, but clearly not as well as he thought. From the use of big sad, this is something Corey had asked Jenny and Val about. "But I know those kinds of things can't be predicted. Otherwise, people wouldn't try, would they? Everything would just work out forever," Corey adds thoughtfully, looking in the mirror, and that guilt creeps over Steve again about his failed marriage. 

"Hey, you've got nothing to worry about, especially no need to worry about me. I can look after myself. It's only because you've only ever seen the Dad side of me you think that. I used to be quite the force to be reckoned with in my youth," Steve says with a smile at them both in the mirror, and Zee and Corey share a wide-eyed glance between one another. 

"How mean are we talking exactly?" Zee asks cautiously.

Steve hides his smile, not wanting to let them know he heard them talking, "Oh, absolutely devastating", he says seriously, folding his arms, "Positively medieval", he adds as they exchange a gasp.

#steddie #steddie fan fiction #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie fan fic #steddiefanfiction #steddiefanfic #madaboutmunson #madaboutmunsonagain #eddie munson #steve harrington

[clemencetaught]

"Here," it's... it's just bread. It's a bun, sure large enough to still some amount of hunger, but it's just bread. And yet, María holds it in front of Patrick with the face of someone who'd consider it a criminal offense to refuse it. Nevermind that she's stolen it from one of the banquets. "Just making sure you're eating." ((RUH-ROH it's Len again~ and I promise I forgot about the Peeta bread thing until I re-read this IGNORE THAT--!! FDKLGJDLAJSGF Hope you didn't end up getting sick BUT IF YOU DID HOPE YOU'RE RESTING AND FEELING BETTER SOON 🥺)) || okay but panem is also known as the nation of bread & circuses– ( unprompted w/ @mythvoiced )

He doesn’t eat much in the Capitol. 

Which is ironic, seeing how most of his life before the games, Patrick was always hungry. Always trying between schooling and factory shifts to figure out when his next meal was going to come. Why else would he and Hyuk have taken out tesserae all those years ago? It was preferable, playing the odds in the Reaping to starving for the rest of the year.

Nowadays, food is the least of his concerns. Whereas there is still a dearth in District Three, there is surplus in the Capitol. No surplus isn’t the right word; a surplus would mean the Capitol keeps the extra for the future. No, there is an excess of food in the Capitol, an excess that is dumped and left to rot after the pigs have had their share, have had their fun.

When he remembers that, food in the Capitol, no matter how finely it’s been prepared, becomes disgusting. Repulsive when it is combined with the thought of the districts, his people, still starving and fighting one another for the Capitol’s ‘scraps’. One plate is enough for Patrick to feel the bile swish in his stomach and even crawl back up his throat– how is he supposed to enjoy this filth now?

(But of course the Capitol has a way of perverting everything. Who else would have invented a liquid that makes one vomit what was just digested to make room for more food?)

“You didn’t have to,” is the first set of words to come out of his mouth, however. It’s such a childish gesture on her part; as a victor, she and her family should have more than enough riches to cover for food whether she’s in the Capitol or her own district. That and it’s considered normal to take leftovers from these banquets.

And yet, she’s staring him down like they are in covenance– it’s odd…strange how the things the Capitol deem sacred, she’ll approach with the irreverence of a foreigner and yet with the most mundane of objects, like a loaf of bread, most likely one of the hundred baked today and will be replicated tomorrow, like it is worth the weight of gold. He takes a hold of María’s loot. The loaf is still warm, freshly out of the oven, he wants to believe. Like it came from one of the bakeries in say, District 12, rather than a Capitol banquet table. Does she look at the Capitol and its elaborate feasts the same way? District Eight is probably just as bad if not even worse than his own district when it comes to food shortages so maybe her thievery makes sense.

When one has gone without food for long enough, no amount of surplus is enough to satiate the insecurity. He knows that feeling all too well. His stomach growls in anticipation. “…Normally, the Capitol likes to have this with caviar.” A delicacy from District Four along with butter shipped from District Ten. He splits the loaf in two, the inside crackling and breaking into two crisp pieces. “But I think…I think it tastes just as delicious on its own.” He hands María one half while taking a bite out of the other. “Take the other half; I can’t finish it on my own.”

It tastes delicious. 

#vomit cw #not that he actually does but there is mention of it #mythvoiced #mythvoiced ( maría. ) #anger said her real name was grief ( maría. ) #the victor ( verse three. ) #the victor ( answered. ) #AND HERE I AM NOW IN THE DEPRESSO VERSE :'DDDD #not me SOBBING first over the reference to the bread.... :'D pe*eta is my darling nobody does it like him </3 #hahaha not me with this hc that... #probably the victors in the outlier districts have complicated relationships with food #just bc a lot of them probably?? suffered from food insecurity?? #and then you go to the capitol and suddenly there's an abundance..... #at the price of the districts starving... :/// #that's gotta trigger some complicated reactions in the victors especially #so in patrick's case #it's not just that he's not hungry but that seeing the excess is...repulsive to him in most cases #(aka more trauma that since he doesn't actually acknowledge ends up manifesting physically....) #BUT FOR MARÍA!!!! HE WOULD EAT FOR HER :'D HE WOULD SHARE WITH HER TOO BC THAT'S WHAT HE DOES WHEN HE GOT FOOD BACK THEN #he'd share with his loved ones :'D #THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK IT WAS VERY STIMULATING TO ANSWER :DDDD (the others are on their way too <3 ) #ALSO THANK FOR UR WELL WISHES....i am feeling much better now <3 #a question of justice ( answered. )

[regicidal-defenestration]

KaF3Countdown - A Client and A Case

He hadn't expected actual fairies.

Oh, sure, the little ginger man in the big coat - he'd introduced himself as Cain maybe? - had warned him that they'd be dealing with magic. He'd said there was "probably" no danger, with the "don't sue me, I can't afford the legal fees" heavily implied. He'd even - fuck, it was spelt weirdly wasn't it? Kane, then? - given him two small silver coins for protection, which he'd taken to show willing.

But Feels hadn't expected actual, real life, fairies living in an old lady's garden, curdling her milk and scaring the neighbour's cats.

Kane had been called up by her to have it exorcised, although, as he was keen to point out, exorcism would have likely made the fairy problem even worse.

Feels had come along because he'd seen Kane's advert in the paper - wanting a partner in his "paranormal detective agency".

It had sounded interesting, or something that'd make a good story at least, and more than that it paid well, well enough to have gone out with him after for a meal at an actual restaurant.

"Is this, like, your day job?" he asked around mouthfuls of chicken vindaloo.

"God no!" Kane laughed, then at least had the grace to look embarrassed about it.

"Do you know how many people think I'm just conning old ladies out of their life savings?"

"I thought it was a front for selling drugs," Feels admitted.

Stopping with a forkful of korma halfway to his mouth, Kane gave him a baffled look.

"And you still came?"

A shrug.

"Didn't have anything else on today. Anyway-" Feels pointed at himself, then back at Kane. If Feels was built like a solid log, Kane was barely a twig. 

"- I reckon I could take you in a fight, magic or not."

Kane paused, barely.

"That's exactly why I want to offer you a job."

That's exactly why he-

What?

What?

Feels couldn't deny he'd enjoyed the day. Or, enjoyed was possibly the wrong word. Worried for his health and/or sanity, maybe. Enjoyed bargaining with the fairies to get them to leave in the same way you enjoy coming face to face with an unexpected bear, but only afterwards when you live to tell everyone about it.

He'd definitely enjoyed the food. Even enjoyed Kane's company when the man wasn't being a prat, which amounted to approximately half the time they'd spent together, rounded up generously.

And instead of saying any of this, Feels asked instead:

"A job?"

"I can't promise it'll be safe," Kane said quickly. 

"There's no guarantee we'll even find clients, or that they won't all be dead ends or pranks."

"Job in the loosest sense of the word then?" 

It hadn't meant to have come out so sarcastically, and Feels felt bad at Kane's grimace.

"If it doesn't work out, you can forget I ever existed. But I know… I know there are people out there who need, actually need the kind of help we can give."

Kane spread out his hands.

"So, what do you think?"

And Feels realised he didn't need to think about it.

"What's our next case?"

#kaf3countdown #kane and feels #this was a last minute swerve jdfhgk like. i had something else written then was like 'wait exactly fits shaman and the rock and i just put #the word case in there for it to be less of a reach' #so instead you get this! #writing

[findingmypeace]

I don’t think I’ll be able to write a whole post. I may or may not have my phone for long. This has been one of the hardest treatment stays ever. I’ve been at CFD since Monday. But I’m currently in the ER. CFD sent me here for fluids. I’m still dealing with all of the physical symptoms I was before I came and it’s been explained to me that it’s all related to dehydration. They had me on couch rest and even had someone escorting me everywhere because I’m cfall risk. I’ve been trying so hard to keep up with the amount of fluids they want me to drink but it hasn’t been enough.

When I say this has been my hardest treatment stay ever there’s only been a 2-3 meals snacks since I was admitted where I haven’t had a full blown panic attack. I’ve been so scared of all food and water. I guess after lunch today it wasn’t a panic attack. It was more that I was so angry with myself for struggling SO much. Shouldn’t this be easier? I’ve been to treatment so many times. I know what I need to do. Why can’t I do it? Wtf is so scary about actual water!!! I feel like that’s ridiculous.

Yesterday I met with the medical doctor and she laid out what I need to do to stay out of the hospital. Drink 3 cups of water + 1 cup of Gatorade, eat at least 50% of my meal plan, and no purging.

TW: I thought of putting this under a cut but instead I’ll try to be vague and give a warning that there will be talk of behaviors. Please skip to the end of this post if that’s triggering for you.

So the goals were laid out for me. I tried so hard to meet them. By afternoon snack I had done 50% of breakfast, AM snack, and lunch. I needed only 10oz more to meet my fluid goal and I had fought purging urges so, so hard. Of course I still have to be supplemented every time I don’t complete a meal at 100%. But I really was doing so much better than previous days.

Afternoon snack is what tripped me up. The actual snack was fine and I did the 50%. I needed to. I enjoyed good conversation and I wasn’t already in the middle of a panic attack by the end of snack. I still got supplemented of course. That was the problem. I appreciate that CFD does supplements different than the last place I was at as it’s based more on making up for the nutrients you did not consume rather than, less than 50% meal completion is two Ensure Plus’s and 50% or more is one Ensure Plus. While I appreciate that CFD does it differently the logistics of the set up aren’t that great. I sit at the table by myself, with everyone in the kitchen, and only an open doorway for them to monitor me. They’re all walking around cleaning up the kitchen after a meal snack. The temptation to purge is at 1000%. It’s an epic battle to not purge when I’m sitting there. I know that even just a little would help lessen the anxiety of the food and fluids. The temptation got the better of me after afternoon snack and I purged. I knew that I shouldn’t. The intense fear of the food and fluids combined with maybe getting some relief from the anxiety just became too much. But it wasn’t actually instant relief. There really wasn’t a way of hiding what I had done so within a half hour I was in a room with my dietitian, the nurse, and the executive director and I was told I would be going to the hospital. At first I freaked out. I thought that meant I would be in the hospital for at least a few day. I, once again, started panicking. A little while later I found out that they meant I would just be going to the ER to get some fluids and coming back. I am so grateful they are allowing me to come back. But they did call an ambulance to pick me up. Thankfully, it wasn’t that they thought I needed ambulance but all available staff were required to be at CFD so there was no one else to take me. As I’ve been writing this the IV bag is now done. I am terrified of that much fluid and at the same time it’s actually easier to deal with it that way (through IV fluids). I hope with the IV bag finished I can go back to CFD. And yet I am terrified for what is to come when I go back. Once again facing fluids and food and panic attacks and talking about everything I stuffed down. So many times I want to bolt. I want to throw my plate or cup as far as I can and then runaway. It’s a constant. But I’m trying so hard and everyone in that room when they told me I was going to the hospital also said that they can see how hard I’m working. It’s just so, so hard, and terrifying. I don’t think I’ve cried this much in my entire life.

Anyway, I miss everyone on here. I haven’t had a chance to catch up on everyone but I would love to hear how everyone is doing.💕

#personal #ed treatment #bulima #eating disorders