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luveline · 1 year

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Hiiii, I don’t know if you’re up for any marauders requests- so no pressure!!

If you are though, I recently sprained my wrist pretty (really) bad at work and have been not great about taking care of it, resting, ect.

If it’s not too much trouble- could I get a lil thing about the marauders absolutely doting on reader over an injury? Like so soft and sweet it could give you diabetes.

Thank you!!!

hope this is okay sweetness! fem!reader, 2k

"She's trying to stand up again," James says, finger hooked in your belt loop.

You glare at him down on the sofa. "Tattle tale," you scold. It's hard to maintain; he looks very sweet today, everyday, and more than handsome.

Remus stands in the doorway to the living room, the smell of the honey tea he's making on his heels. "Why, dove?" he asks, sounding amusedly horrified. "Can't you stay still for ten minutes?"

"I just thought I'd help with the tea," you say, taking a painful step toward him. James gasps and actually stands himself.

Your eyes widen. James is more of a threat-giver than an enforcer. He loves telling on you or better yet enabling your bad behaviour, but if he's getting up it means he won't be allowing you any further self-detriment.

"Be gentle," Remus says.

James raises his eyebrows at you and crowds you, hands on your hips. He gives you a little push. "Sit back down."

You sit, and your ankle feels better for it immediately, but you cross your arms over your chest and huff so they know you don't appreciate being bossed around. James laughs, more than aware.

"It's for your own good," he says.

Remus returns with your tea and you say thanks even though you're pretending to be annoyed with them both. "I would like to be allowed to get my own tea," you say, pleased when James sits back at your side with his own cup of tea, his arm heavy against you. "It's not as bad as you think it is, I promise."

"You have a bruise bigger than Jersey on your ankle and…" James lowers his voice slightly, "I know it's hurting even when you aren't standing. You get a notch between your brows, right here," he says, tapping the space above your nose.

"The less you use it the quicker it will get better," Remus says.

"That logic only applies to injury," says a new voice. The front door closes, and after a second Sirius appears in his coat and jacket. "The more you use me, the better I get." He winks at you.

You wink back. Delighted, Sirius peels out of his coat and shoes and swiftly takes the empty seat on your left. He kisses your cheek hello, his slender fingers tucked deftly behind your ear so he can turn your face to his.

"Have you been resting?" he asks.

"No," Remus and James say at the same time.

"She's done the opposite," James adds.

"Yes, well, she's not perfect." He shakes his head at you hurriedly, mouthing, "You are perfect."

You know he's joking but you get all melted, tight shoulders lax, head dipping back against the sofa cushions. Sirius hums his approval and strokes your cheek with his thumb. He's not usually the most affectionate of the boys, but when you're injured he acts like you're on your deathbed and deserving of the world's collective sweetness.

"How was work?" you ask him.

"Agony," he says quietly, and he's putting it on, trying to make you squirm. It's working. "I was worried about you."

"I take offence to that," James says.

"I know you're taking care of her," Sirius says, "don't be daft, I just know she won't behave. Especially if I'm not here."

Half of a biscuit soars toward Sirius and hits him in the chest. Entertained, you follow its trajectory back to the source and find Remus in the big armchair, cup of tea cradled atop his knee. "What?" he asks, seemingly chewing the first half of the biscuit.

"Sirius–" James warns.

"Prick," Sirius says.

Remus swallows his biscuit and takes a sip of tea. "Oh, sorry. Slipped."

"Why have you chucked a biscuit at me?" Sirius asks.

James takes the biscuit and eats it. You laugh from behind your hand.

"No reason. Y/N, dovey, do you want a biscuit?" Remus asks you.

You nod and start to stand to retrieve one, but two arms grab your waist. James' arm, tan, steely without any effort, stops you from getting any further. Sirius', less strong but twice as eager, pulls you into his side with a groan.

"Please sit down," he says.

You sigh and let your head drop onto James' shoulder. "I'm sitting. I just want a biscuit."

Remus sits on the coffee table in front of you with a funny look on his face, a mixture of love and disbelief. "I was bringing them to you." He squeezes the tin closed in his lap, his eyes resolutely on yours so you're forced to meet his gaze. He's handsome, too, they all are, but Remus doesn't know it, unaware of the effect his eyes have on you, the colour like browned honey and the little specks of amber that surround his pupil. "I'll give you a biscuit if you promise to stop making it worse."

"Really," James seconds, "we want you to get better, that's all."

You slouch further into his shoulder, away from their doting concern. "It's not as bad as you think it is."

That's a bad lie. You and Sirius had been walking back up the garden steps after a red squirrel stakeout —the squirrels keep eating from Remus' bird feeders and therefore scaring away the birds— and you slipped in a strange way. You ended up sprawled out on your back and you'd burst into laughter, while Sirius looked down on you absolutely horrified. It was only later, an hour or so afterwards, when you'd been helped up and placed affectionately in bed, that your ankle started to ache, and you found you couldn't put any weight on it after all. Your panicked tears had terrified the three of them. They've been ridiculously lovely since then.

"Maybe I could have another look?" Remus asks.

It's a well-organised dance when you're together, and this part's no different. Remus hands the biscuit tin to James as he stands, and Sirius pushes the table back with his foot so Remus has room to kneel down in front of you. James opens the biscuit tin and knows your favourite without having to ask, offering it to you as Remus straightens out your leg.

"Is this compression thing a good idea all of the time?" Sirius asks.

Remus pulls it down, humming as you hiss in pain. "Oh, I know, dove. I'll be really quick," he promises.

"It's not so horribly bruised," James says.

"I hate that we're all looking at my foot right now."

Remus squeezes your toes. If you weren't wearing a sock under the compression support you'd have to break up with him.

"I think it looks less swollen," he says eventually, rolling up your sock and putting the compression back into the proper place. You gasp at the sudden movement and his brows crease in sympathy. "Sorry, dove."

"Let's elevate it, right?" James asks.

"Yes, I think so. I'll get you a pillow," Remus says.

He stands up, turns to leave, and then turns back to press a kiss to your temple.

"Me too," Sirius says, kissing your cheek.

Having refused to move from James' shoulder in your embarrassment, you're out of the way for James to kiss you too, and it's a good thing. Anymore sweetness and you'd probably melt into the threads of the sofa.

"I'll owe you one," James says.

Remus gets a pillow to prop up your foot. James becomes your dedicated human blanket. Sirius looks for a film to watch on the telly while discussing takeaway options, even when Remus claims that he's going to cook tonight.

"Takeaway is too expensive," Remus says.

"Cooking makes a mess that you'll insist on cleaning," Sirius argues.

"Takeaway also makes a mess," James says.

"We can't cook because I can't help," you declare. "And that's not fair. You guys will all be laughing and flirting in the kitchen and I'll be sat here by my lonesome watching Footloose."

"Footloose isn't on until ten," Sirius says, looking at the TV info bar with a smile, "you'd be watching Night Rider."

Remus holds his hand out from the armchair. It's miles from reaching you, but you know he's suggesting an alliance. "How about," he begins softly, "we have a takeaway and those two can do whatever they want."

"Remus," James says.

You stand up on your uninjured foot. The boys groan at your moving but don't argue, letting you limp to the armchair where Remus is sitting with little more than a chorus of defeated sighs. He puts his arms out for you, his hands and grip strong as he helps you down into the seat next to him. There's not really enough room for two, but he makes it, his arm crossing over your chest and under your arm to lock you in against him.

"This is ridiculous," James says.

Sirius shuffles across the sofa into the gap you've left behind. "We could always hide the menus," he says to James. "Neither of them know the numbers. Plus, she can't walk and he can't be bothered."

Remus pulls you in impossibly closer. "That's true."

The two boys opposite spring up from their seats, laughing as they begin plotting a cruel plan. You rub your fingertips up and down the length of the arm holding you, letting your head flop back into Remus' chest as you say, "They'll realise they like us too much to starve us soon enough."

"I know." His hold on you relaxes. "I really do wish you'd stop putting weight on your foot. Please. It needs time to get better."

"Okay," you say, a sucker for him when he talks so softly. "Sorry. No more walking around while it heals."

"Don't be sorry, just get better quickly. I need reinforcements against their nonsense."

"You love their nonsense."

James and Sirius return looking pleased with themselves not long after, and an hour passes quietly. When the doorbell rings, you're unsurprised to find they've ordered your favourite takeaway.

"You're predictable," Remus says.

"Well," Sirius says, lifting his chin, arms laden with cartons, "how else is she supposed to get better? She needs food."

In an example of extreme overkill, Remus and James act as crutches, helping you walk the short distance from the living room to the kitchen table. You're surprised James doesn't just attempt to pick you up in a fireman's lift, as is his usual style.

Sirius sets the table. Remus makes drinks. James doles out the portions of food, knowing what everyone wants without having to ask, and you miss being able to help. You're usually moving with them, an integral thread, ebbing and flowing in tandem. It's nice to watch them together, but you miss doing your part. James' hand warm on your hip as he eases you out of the way, or Sirius' childish attempts at tripping you up on the way to the silverware drawer.

"Sorry for being so useless lately," you say, twisting the fork in your hand over and over.

Three glares pierce you at once. "Who says you're useless?" James asks.

"You're out of commission for the moment," Remus says agreeably, "that's far from useless."

"I feel bad, having you wait on me. I know I'm making it worse all the time by refusing to just rest but I don't like you having to do everything for me, it's not fair."

Sirius sits down in the chair beside yours, tucking himself in quickly. "You realise that we'd look after you forever, right? Like, if you needed this much help and looking after every day, that wouldn't be a problem."

You shake your head. "Don't be silly."

James clears his throat. "No, listen to him. He's right."

"We don't mind helping you to the table, or carrying your washing downstairs for you, or any of the things we've offered to do for you since you hurt your ankle."

Remus sits in the seat across from you with a pointed look. James joins him, a packet of painkillers in hand. He pops two out for you, saying, "You're not useless just because we've had to give you some help. And if you were useless it wouldn't matter. So don't say sorry."

Remus nods. "Exactly. Don't feel guilty about an accident, dove."

You look at Sirius unsurely. "You really don't mind looking after me?"

He reaches over to handle your thigh. "No," he says, gaze soft, fingers squeezing into the fat of your leg lovingly, "we really don't mind."

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azistaproducts1234 · 6 months

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#biscuits for diabetic patients #biscuits for sugar patients #best biscuits for diabetes #best snacks for diabetics #best biscuits for diabetics in india #sugar free biscuits for diabetic #sugar free biscuits for diabetic patients #best sugar free biscuits for diabetics

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klausysworld · 10 months

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Can I get some fluffy Klaus headcanons where he’s dating someone who cooks/bakes? Not as a career, but as a hobby

Klaus and his little baker girl:

When Klaus met y/n she didn’t know that he was a hybrid. She found it odd and somewhat worrying with how little he ate and often cooked or baked things for him whenever she saw him.

She knew her food was good, she’s had many friends and family members tell her so and so if he didn’t eat her food then she knew something was wrong.

Thankfully Klaus has good taste in all senses and nearly licked the plate clean.

He could see the glint of relief in her eyes and the warmth that spread through her when he told her how delicious her strawberry tart was and it made his heart swell.

It was clear to Klaus that this was y/n’s love language, giving to him and caring for him.

Klaus wasn’t used to walking in to a warm meal and a smiling face each night.

Every night he made sure to stop at y/n’s knowing she would have something ready for him no matter how late he showed up. He found that since knowing her, he felt hunger for something other than blood but instead for actual food and for her presence.

No matter what she was making: a stew, a roast, a steak, a pasta dish, a fish dish, something savoury or something sweet. Whatever she served him, was always delicious. And he always wanted more.

He wasn’t sure where she got all the time from to bake him his shortbread, brownies, angel cakes and other little treats. Between him being at her house and her being at work while he’s amongst a war, he didn’t know how she managed to find the time for her hobbies. But he was thankful she did nevertheless.

Klaus was certain that if he weren’t supernatural then he would’ve had diabetes from the amount of sugar she fed him. At one point he questioned if she was trying to ‘fatten him up’ to which she laughed and offered a ‘maybe?’ back to him.

He loved how sweet she was, so soft and innocent in the best of ways. Her biggest worry was that he didn’t eat enough and her main wonder of each day was what she would cook for dinner.

And when she accidentally found out he had a big family, her first thought (after getting upset that he didn’t tell her) was to invite them all for dinner. He was very reluctant but he couldn’t tell her big eager eyes no, not when he knew it was something she would love.

So after a lot of threats and physical fights, Freya, Elijah, Kol, Rebekah, Hayley and Hope all arrived at miss y/l/n’s home along with Niklaus of course.

She had made a mix of foods for them so they could pick what they wanted and made some simpler dishes for young Hope as the fancy foods didn’t appeal. It was something that instantly made the Mikaelsons like her and also have them all see the love shine in Klaus’s eyes. True, pure love.

It was the first of many things the mikaelsons would try from y/n.

Once she became a frequent visitor there and they came comfortable at hers, they were almost always snacking on something.

Elijah had a craving for cobblers and crumbles, Freya had taken to anything with strawberries in it, Kol went for anything in sight and Rebekah wanted to try everything at least once. Meanwhile Hope and Klaus were slowly learning some of y/n’s recipes and Hope was making slight alterations to make them more to her liking.

Often Klaus would notice y/n adding a cake to Hoped lunch box and sneaking out of bed early to set the breakfast table.

If she were to ever miss a meal then every mikaelson was on alert thinking she was missing.

If she didn’t bake something for a couple days then they were trying to find what was wrong and when she got too stressed and over baked Hope was bringing brownies to school while the vampires in the compound would come and steal a biscuit.

Everyone loved y/n’s baking and her cooking. Many times Freya, Rebekah and Hayley had tried to tell her to open a coffee shop but she argued she like her other job just fine and liked that food was something she did because she loved and not because it was a responsibility.

The mikaelson home was a brighter place with her cheerful smile and loving nature.

Klaus was so much happier with her caring nature around him. So much warmer as a person, whether or not it was the constant sugar rush or the flood of affection, he wasn’t sure but he loved it either way.

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tastegood12345 · 1 year

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#diabetic biscuits #diabetic snacks #sugar free biscuits

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 5 months

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Hello! Merry Christmas! Btw is your requests closed? Well if it is you can just ignore this.

I request Ranpo, Chuuya, Dazai, Juono, Atsushi, Akutagawa with a gn reader who eats 24/7 yet their weight doesn't increases, like at all you cannot see them without food they always are munching on something be it chips, Ranpo's stolen candy, biscuits basically anything they fr be munching on something and they fr hungry 24/7 too.

Merry Christmas again! And a HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Btw take this Chuuya he fr adorable.

Thank you! Happy Late Christmas and Late Happy New Year!

And awww. This Chuuya is so cute! Thanks:)

And here is your request.

🐾 BSD Cast feel a little bit worried about you not gaining weight and being always hungry. They were afraid, that, you either have diabetes or parasites. But, after medical checkup showed, that you are completely healthy and simply have super metabolism, they calmed down.

🐾 Everyone will cook the best food for you and make sure, that you always have snacks.

🕵🏻 Ranpo and you have some friendly bickering over stolen snacks. After you finish bickering, you two eat snacks together. Fukuzawa makes sure, that all off both of you have enough snacks.

🍷 Chuuya cooks for you. His food is on a fancy side, so, you eat it slowly, to enjoy the taste. Chuuya will even ask Verlaine and Rimbaud for tips on cooking french cuisine.

🪢🦀 Dazai is your partner in eating cup noodles and crab meat. Both of you are Kunikida's nightmare, because of your love for instant noodles. Kunikida is sure, that instant noodles aren't food, if you are hungry, ask him, he will cook for you.

💧 Jounou feels, like he is walking on eggshells. Because, he is afraid, that you will adopt Tetchou's eating habits. So, Jounou monitor, what you eat. He doesn't look into your plate, he simply makes sure, that you don't mix coffee with soy sauce.

🐯 Atsushi is ready to cook for you every second of a day. Even if you wake him up in the middle of the night, he will cook for you without questions. Atsushi, Kyouka and you are often eating chazuke and tofu together.

🧥 Akutagawa learns, how to prepare treats for you to enjoy with tea. He uses Rashomon to cut fruits for you. He and Gin often invites you to have some tea and figs together.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #Self-Aware Ranpo Edogawa #Self-Aware Dazai Osamu #Self-Aware Saigiku Jouno #Self-Aware Akutagawa Ryunosuke #Self-Aware Chuuya Nakahara #Self-Aware Atsushi Nakajima

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sixth-light · 1 year

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(tws ahead: discussion of food, diets and diet culture, eating disorders, calorie counts, and fatphobia in the context of pregnancy)

Truly one of the most bizarre things about being pregnant has been the official advice around food. Food and eating is difficult enough already when you're pregnant - there's excellent scientific evidence that it's advisable to moderate your caffeine intake and avoid alcohol, and an entire laundry list of stuff you're supposed to avoid for food safety/food poisoning risk reasons. (I am a nerd and I read the last scientific review of the linked advice from the NZ Ministry of Health, so I can say with confidence it's also pretty well supported.) Personally, I am largely indifferent to going without alcohol, but after half a year or so my brie cravings are getting pretty intense. That's going to be even tougher for people with food restriction issues. And then there's the potential nutrient deficiencies that come when a baby is sucking up all your available iron, calcium, etcetera.

But on top of all this...a couple of things are also true:

later pregnancy and breastfeeding require a higher calorie intake because you're, uh, feeding an entire baby with your body and those calories have to come from somewhere

healthy pregnancy also requires weight gain because of the aforementioned 'growing an entire person' thing

Western Anglophone society absolutely loses its goddamn mind at the thought of telling women (and other pregnant people, but they are clearly not thinking that far) that it's okay for them to eat more than normal, let alone gain weight

So there's reams and reams of official advice which has like one line saying "maybe don't diet when you're pregnant" quickly followed by "but it's OK! you can diet afterwards! you'll lose lots of weight when you breastfeed!" and then like. eight paragraphs on how while technically, they suppose you need some extra calories during some of your pregnancy, it is DEEPLY IMPORTANT that those calories only come from the most healthy and boring possible foods, because otherwise you might gain too much weight which is the worst possible thing that could happen. Try carrot sticks! Fat-free yoghurt! Dry toast! I have literally seen advice suggesting the extra calories you need can be gained from a "small snack". Maybe an apple. (Most of the estimates I've seen about extra calorie needs in later pregnancy are in the range of 3-400 extra calories a day. That apple would have to be the size of your head.) This is all followed up with dire warnings about gestational diabetes, which is lurking in the wings waiting for any pregnant person who dares use it as justification for eating that extra biscuit. There is clearly a really deep-seated belief at play that if you give them - us - an excuse to eat more we will gorge ourselves on, IDK, chips and ice cream, because the only thing holding us back from obesity is the constant reminder that gaining weight is BAD and that eating too much food is BAD (even though the reality is that weight gain and higher caloric needs are part of a healthy pregnancy). This reality has to be held at arms' length and hemmed in with restrictions and cautions lest all hell break loose. You are very literally advised to calculate your BMI, weigh yourself regularly, and have a target weight gain - i.e. implicitly to restrict your food intake if your weight gain is higher - which I'm sure is just chill and fabulous for people with a history or present of eating disorders.

(The cherry on top of this is that it's normal for pregnant people to have suppressed appetites in late pregnancy despite needing more food because, again, there is an entire baby in there squashing their organs. Add in all those foods that you can't eat, and it can actually be somewhat challenging to eat enough.)

The bit that haunts me is that we know that caloric restriction during pregnancy makes children more likely to have higher weights later on, and you know who is most targeted with this diet-but-don't-diet-but-actually-kinda-do rhetoric? Fat people, who are advised to gain at absolute most about the weight of a healthy full-term baby + amniotic fluid/placenta/etc - and that it's fine if they gain much less weight than that, barely more than the weight of a healthy baby, which would actually equate to total weight loss. During pregnancy. It feels like there could be a lot of self-fulfilling prophecy going on here vis a vis fat parents having fat kids. which is now sometimes characterised as a form of child abuse. FUN.

Anyway, I am sure I'm not the only person to have made these observations (and if you know good writing on this topic I'd love to be linked to it, because I'm way too chicken to try Googling) but man. As I said at the start: the level at which fatphobia and diet culture are institutionalised during pregnancy, to the detriment of actual health, is wild.

(For my money, sane advice would be 'healthy eating advice is the same during pregnancy as it is other times except for the specific foods you should avoid because of increased food poisoning risk, and you need to eat a bit more in later pregnancy. The end.')

#fwiw my midwife has never even asked to weigh me #and she only asks about food in the context of 'are you having any digestive issues' and monitoring of things like iron and B vitamins #so that's cool and good but oh boy #I wish I didn't feel grateful this was the case

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