#i am making sweet potato fries | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

in1-nutshell · 2 months

Note

AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT ELITA'S TWIN! I need the reunion with Sentinal and Elita.

The long awaited reunion has finally been written!

The last writing for Buddy was nice and sweet... get ready, no one is spared for what's about to come...

Hope you enjoy!

Elita One's twin sister with the personality of SG! Blackarachnia reuniting with Sentinel and Elita

SFW, Angst, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian (techno organic) reader

TFA

Buddy had been looking at the main screens for any docks with extra steel beams, the injury rates had been going up with the recent arrival of the Elite Guard.

They had been on edge since she heard about the Guard landing on Earth’s soil. Even refusing to leave the base, constantly working on menial tasks to keep her occupied.

Buddy hunched over her work area trying to fix some chips that had gotten fried.

Blitzwing walks in.

“You are still here? How are you even functional? Its been how long since you’ve gotten out of here?”--Blitzwing

“Hmm.”--Buddy

“You should go outside before you start rusting here.”--Blitzwing

“Hmm.”--Buddy

“Why you—”--Blitzwing

“The sparklers aren’t working correctly.”--Buddy

“What?”--Blitzwing

“The transfuser need to be tweaked.”--Buddy

“Are you even listening—”--Blitzwing

“Tweak to the left… tweak to the right…”--Buddy

Blitzwing leaves the med bay and returns with Lugnut.

“Your turn.”--Blitzwing

Lugnut comes closer to Buddy and taps her shoulder.

“Buddy.”--Lugnut

“If I can just get the cells to work correctly…”--Buddy

“Blitzwing hit his helm against my servo.”--Lugnut

“Then I can finally get the thing…”--Buddy

“I threw an Autobot off the roof.”--Lugnut

Buddy using a mini blow torch on the chips.

Lugnut turning back to Blitzwing shrugging.

Starscream comes into the med bay after hearing the entire thing from behind the door.

“Step aside, watch how a master works this.”--Starscream

Starscream moves to Buddy.

Starscream grabs on of Buddy’s servos.

“As your Second in Command, I am ordering you to—”--Starscream

“I think I melded this one the other way.”--Buddy

“What—”--Starscream

Buddy slipping her servo out of Starscreams hold and continues moving and working.

“DID YOU NOT HEAR—”--Starscream

“If I put the cells here… maybe it’ll work and function with the transfusers…”--Buddy

Starscream looking back at Blitzwing and Lugnut.

“Did she just completely ignore me?!”--Starscream

“I know an impossible feat.”--Blitzwing

“… I’ll let that one sly.”--Starscream

“I have an idea!”--Lugnut

“Oh, please Lugnut. That slow moving processor couldn’t even—now he’s gone…”--Starscream

Lugnut going out of the room, soon returning with Megatron.

“Why am I here Lugnut?”--Megatron

“Buddy hasn’t left the med bay.”--Lugnut

“And?”--Megatron

“It’s been approximately 1 earth week. I haven’t seen her refuel too much.”--Blitzwing

“She’s too busy working on those chips to even acknowledge us.”--Starscream

Megatron walking over to Buddy’s work area before picking up Buddy with one servo and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Megatron! Put me down! I must continue working!”—Buddy

“Those chips are not going to disappear if you leave for a couple of minutes.”—Megatron

“But—“—Buddy

Megatron ignoring Buddy as he makes his way to the fueling station.

“…Why didn’t we think about doing that?”--Blitzwing

“…I don’t know…”--Starscream

The Prime did try and reach Buddy, but she was very short with her responses, mainly afraid that the Elite Guard would pick up on the signal.

She did make one point clear.

Not to tell any of the Guard that she was alive.

The last thing Buddy needed was to be on the Guards number one bot of interest.

Finally, after a bit of searching she found a dock with extra steel beams laying around.

Most of the Cons were out on missions, even Megatron was out for the moment, she opted instead to leave a note saying that she was out on another steel run.

Now at the docks, she found the neat pile of steel beams.

As she reached for them, she paused.

“These look too perfect… either Ernie from docking works is working more on presentation… or…”--Buddy

Buddy takes a couple steps back from the beams.

“…It’s a trap…”--Buddy

“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! HELP! HELP PLEASE!”

Buddy jumping at the screams but immediately goes towards the noise.

“Hello? Hello, is there anyone there?”--Buddy

“HELP!”

“I’m coming! Can you—”--Buddy

CRASH!

When Buddy turned the corner, she was caught in an electrical pulse net. She tried to get rid of the net, but it started electrifying her.

She screamed in pain, falling to the ground.

In her hazy vision, she saw a pair of pedes walking over to her and placed stasis cuffs on her, immobilizing her.

Another pair of smaller pedes came and placed something on her faceplate.

Then she blacked out.

When Buddy woke up the first thing, she saw was bright white walls.

Her neck was too stiff and upright.

And it was too bright…

Snapping her optics open she saw that she was in stasis cuffs, frozen in place, with a mouthpiece preventing her from talking.

She looked around, it looked like she was in a cell and there was thick glass separating her from the outside. The cells design looked extremely familiar… as if she had seen it before…

The sound of opening doors alerted her and looked at two shadows coming towards her.

She swore her spark stopped for a second when the figures came into full view.

In front of Buddy was Sentinel and Elita.

Buddy wanted to cry so badly seeing her twin and one of her friends.

Sentinel looked like her hadn’t changed much considering a brighter paintjob than the one in the Academy, maybe a new brand he was trying out. His infamous shield strapped to his back.

Elita looked exhausted but a bit chipper than Sentinel. Her frame had slightly more kibble than the last time she had seen her. Elita looked like she had opted to take up a staff as her weapon.

They were so close… yet so far…

She couldn’t hear anything what they were saying, must have been soundproof glass. But whatever they were talking about, Buddy had a bad thing they were talking about her.

She saw the doors open again.

In walked in Optimus Prime.

Optimus spotted Buddy and immediately went over to the glass placing his servo on it.

Buddy saw the fear in his optics seeing her in there.

Why would he be so scared of that… the Autbots wouldn’t subjugate torture as an interrogation tactic if that was what he was worried about.

But… what if the protocols had changed?

Surely, Ultra Magnus wouldn’t…

Right?

Optimus turned to Sentinel and Elita with a furious look on his face.

Buddy hadn’t seen that look before.

Sure, the Prime got angry, she had seen it before, but this time it was different.

He and Sentinel began arguing, or what looked like arguing.

Sentinel’s face went from confused to shock to furious.

Elita’s just went fully in shock slowly moving her helm to Buddy.

Optimus couldn’t be talking about…

No, he wouldn’t after…

A few more Autobots came into the room, but right now Buddy couldn’t care less about that.

Buddy wanted to get out of here.

She needed to get out of here.

Then it hit her.

She could still move some of her digits and extra appendages.

Granted it was a little bit, but it was still something.

Maybe it was because she wasn’t entirely Cybertronain anymore.

Abruptly all the bots started going outside of the room.

Elita giving her one slight glance before turning off the lights.

Silence filled the room.

It was time to put her plan into action.

Carefully wiggling her sharp digits into the cracks, Buddy twisted around until she heard a satisfying crack.

The cuffs slid off her aching wrist as she took off the face mask.

Thankfully the cell systems of the ship were still like the ones she used to work with back in her days at the Academy.

Slowly crawling through the vents, she managed to find a loose plating of the ship heading outside.

With a swift kick she was met with the starry night.

“It’s night?!”--Buddy

Buddy carefully scaled down the ship and softly landing on the ground.

“I’m so going to be put on base arrest for the next solar cycle if I keep this up… and I didn’t even get the beams! No, no, focus on the priorities!”--Buddy

Buddy wrapping up her webs in her servos.

“First get out of the base. Check. Second clean up any evidence and tracking devices. Check. Third thing escape. Almost check—”--Buddy

“Freeze Con!”--Elita

Buddy felt someone fall on her back, tackling her to the floor.

She quickly got up to see Elita armed with a staff.

Oh no…

Buddy wanted to talk but was met with Sentinel and Optimus racing towards them.

The group had finally been reunited, whether they knew it or not.

Buddy realized that she didn’t have any weapons on her.

She didn’t want to resort to using her powers, especially knowing how they reacted to other Cybertronains.

She swore that she would use them as a last resort.

Everyone was at a standstill.

Then Elita charged.

Buddy did her best to dodge and avoid every blow.

Granted Elita did land some but otherwise Buddy was able to dodge the rest.

Buddy managed to get a hold of Elita’s staff.

Elita leaped forward with her servos wide open.

Buddy used the staff to block any contact Elita tried to get on her. Elita was trying to use her power on her. There was no telling what would happen to her.

Suddenly something slammed into her helm causing her to drop the staff and fall to the ground.

Elita grabbed the staff and stood on top of Buddy with the tip inches away from her pipes.

Buddy saw from her side that Optimus was trying to get to her, but Sentinel was somehow managing to keep him at bay shouting something.

Elita One raising her staff over Buddy’s helm.

“ELITA WAIT!”--Optimus

“LITA!”--Buddy

The staff stopping inches from Buddy’s helm.

Elita looking down on her with wide optics.

Sentinel and Optimus have stopped fighting to see the scene.

Buddy quickly rolls from underneath Elita giving them both enough space.

“How—how do you know that?”--Elita

“…I’d be a pretty crummy twin if I didn’t want to annoy you from time to time, huh?”--Buddy

“What?”--Elita

“And Sentinel! Next time give a bot a warning before you throw the giant frisbee to someone’s helm.”--Buddy

Optimus walks forward but gets held back by Sentinel.

“I’m not going to ask again. How did you know that name.”--Elita

“…You know I didn’t think that me being gone for so long would make you less smart Lita—”--Buddy

“Don’t call me that! Who are you!”--ELita

“It’s me! Buddy!”--Buddy

“No you aren’t!”--Elita

“Elita listen to her! That is Buddy—”--Optimus

“Shut it Optimus! You honestly think that this disgusting looking Con is Buddy? This is just some Con trick!”--Sentinel

“Sentinel—”--Optimus

“I’m not hearing it!”--Sentinel

“Please! Elita, you know it’s me! Yeah I look a little bit different but I’m still the same Buddy you grew up with”--Buddy

Buddy moves slowly to take Elita’s servo.

Elita immediately retracts her servo as soon as they touch backing up.

“You’re not my twin sister.”--Elita

“Elita, please—”--Buddy

“She was gone on Archna 7.”--Elita

“Elita—”--Buddy

“She was an honorable Autobot who was too selfless for her own good!”--Elita

“Lita—”--Buddy

“STOP CALLING ME THAT YOU DECEPTICON FREAK!”--Elita

“…what…”--Buddy

It dawned on Buddy like a cold shower.

Elita feared her.

Sentinel feared her.

They both saw her as a monster.

A freak.

The enemy.

Optimus pushing pass Sentinel and Elita and standing in front of Buddy’s slightly trembling form.

“Optimus—”--Sentinel

“I think you two have done enough.”--Optimus

“Optimus you of all bots can’t believe this. We knew Buddy better than anyone!”--Elita

Optimus placing a servo on Buddy’s shoulder.

Buddy looking down with unshed tears building up.

“Bud—”--Optimus

“Optimus!”--Elita

“…I—I need to get out of here Prime…”--Buddy

“What? No, Buddy we can work this out—”--Optimus

“Prime. Not now… please just let me go.”--Buddy

Buddy sees a dark shadow coming from behind Optimus.

“Optimus look out!”--Buddy

Buddy pushes Optimus out of the way and instinctively uses her powers on the figure, bringing them down.

Sentinel with the stasis cuffs in his servos fell to the ground.

“Sentinel! Optimus!”--Elita

Elita rushed to Sentinel and Optimus’s side standing protectively over the two of them.

“GET AWAY FROM THEM! GO BACK TO THE PITS WHERE YOU BELONG MONSTER!”--Elita

Buddy staggers back looking at the scene before her.

Optimus and Sentinel slowly waking up from the harsh toss to the ground and power drainage.

“I…I…”--Buddy

Buddy sprints away from the scene.

She ran and ran for once not caring to watch her steps.

Buddy needed to go somewhere, anywhere but there.

The thoughts of going back to the Decepticon base where immediately shot down. She didn’t want to explain this whole story to her team.

She couldn’t tell Megatron about what happened.

Eventually Buddy would return to base, but right now, she needed a place to calm down, let out some steam, and cry without judgement.

Lucky for Buddy, there was one place she could think of.

Carefully, she crawled into one of the empty cargo bins on a ship that was setting sail.

When the time came, Buddy came out of the cargo bin without disturbing the other bins and went to the edge.

A minute later the shoreline of the island came into view.

Good thing that the boat always came close to the shoreline, it was perfect for jumping distance.

Wadding in the water, Buddy made her way to the shore.

She continued through the greenery following the familiar pathway she had walked multiple times before.

The rush from the events was slowly draining away as her steps became more and more sluggish; her vision becoming more and more watery, tears sliding down her faceplate, she could feel her servos and frame start to shake.

Buddy came to a clearing and fell to her knees venting hard trying to stifle everything.

In a split second, she didn’t care who or what heard her.

She screamed.

Buddy didn’t remember for how long she screamed, but her voice box was starting to glitch from the excessive use.

Buddy trembling on the ground finally done with the screaming match.

“W-why…w-why?”--Buddy

Heavy steps are heard coming closer to Buddy, but she is too exhausted to even look up.

“Buddy-bot?”

Buddy looking up a bit.

“Hey Grimlock. Long time no see.”--Buddy

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfa optimus prime #tfa sentinel prime #tfa elita one #tfa x reader #tfa x platonic reader #Elita One's twin sister

100 notes · View notes

ladykissingfish · 2 months

Text

*Kisame walks into the hideout carrying a wet-haired Deidara in his arms*

Konan: Ohh, what’s this? Are congratulations in order?

Hidan: So the Uchiha’s sickly ass wasn’t enough for you to stick it in, huh? You had to go for blondie too?

Sasori: What’s this? Am I … am I finally free of this brat?

Itachi: I must say I’m disappointed by this turn of events … but no matter. Kakuzu, would you be interested in going on a date?

Kakuzu: Are you kidding? I’m already going broke on Hidan; you think I want to add your costly medicines to my weekly spending list?

Kisame: Ha ha, very funny, you guys. *sets Deidara down on the couch* Sasori, you’re going to want to wrap up his ankle, I’m pretty sure he sprained it. Tell them what happened, Deidara.

Deidara, mumbling: Not a big deal, hm. Just went fishing with Kisame-no-Danna.

Kisame: And?

Deidara: And .. . I hooked a really big trout. But when I was pulling it up, it wiggled off the line and got away.

Tobi: Don’t worry, Senpai! You’ll get him next time!

Kisame: Oh, that wasn’t all. Deidara?

Deidara, blushing: I took off my clothes and dove in after it, hm. But when I hit the water I landed too hard on a rock and busted my ankle. And I felt something bite my leg so I got back out. And … and there were …

Kisame: There happened to be two women picnicking nearby. Deidara didn’t see them when he jumped naked and screaming out of the water. The women went to go and get the police, and long story short, I had to talk them out of charging him with indecent exposure and lewd conduct.

Hidan, laughing: Haaaa!! Blondie you’re a fuckin’ pervert!

Konan: Oi, poor Kisame … your day was rough, huh?

Kisame: It wasn’t a total loss … *reaches into his satchel and pulls out a wrapped plate* The two women felt bad for causing a fuss, so they gave me a whole plate of fried chicken and some potato salad. Who’s hungry?!

*excited murmurs as everyone follows Kisame into the kitchen*

Sasori, to Deidara: Well, it looks like you won’t be making it in there. How about, after I wrap your ankle, I make you something for dinner?

Deidara: Oh, Danna, that’s so sweet! You —

Sasori: How does a nice, big piece of trout sound? Maybe paired with a drink on the rocks?

Deidara:

Deidara: You’re a jerk, hm.

#naruto #the akatsuki #shenanigans #this group is pure chaos #sasodei #kisaita #kakuhida #fishing #deidara #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha #konan #hidan #sasori #kakuzu #tobi

71 notes · View notes

infinitystoner · 6 months

Note

🐊 headcanons...

If Loki was somehow forced to buy birthday presents for Thor, Tony, and Nebula on their birthdays...what would he get them?

God of Gifts

Masterlist

Word count: >900 Author’s note: I don’t think I’ve ever written anything so quickly, but I couldn’t stop imagining Loki giving gifts to everyone! Here’s a sweet lil’ gen fic/drabble featuring some of my favorite Marvel characters.

This was ridiculous. Nevertheless, Loki followed his brother into Stark’s cabin.

“Happy birthday to us!” Thor bellowed, flinging his arms open and nearly knocking Loki back out the door in the process.

It was not Thor’s birthday, nor Loki’s. It was, however, the birthday of the Iron Man himself, Anthony Stark.

“We don’t know when our birthdays are,” Thor had bemoaned as Pepper handed out party invitations earlier in the week.

“Oh, how heartbreaking!”

“I know when my birthday is,” said Loki, rolling his eyes at her sympathetic look.

Thor was shocked. “What? How?”

“I asked.”

Of course, Loki didn’t know his exact birthday, but the day Frigga had claimed him as her own was good enough for him. Loki also knew Thor’s birthday, but that was of little consequence.

“You are more than welcome to celebrate with Tony, Thor. You too, Loki.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Loki replied as Thor gave Pepper a hug so mighty that her feet left the ground.

And now, Loki was at said party. Worse still, he’d procured gifts.

He surveyed the room, giving a cordial nod to Banner and Colonel Rhodes before approaching his first target.

“Many happy returns, Stark.” Loki gave a hesitant smile to the man leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Glad you could make it, Horns. Can I fix you a drink?” Tony asked before taking a sip of what Loki surmised was scotch.

“No, thank you. But, speaking of potables…”

Loki pulled three amber vials from his pocket and placed them on the countertop.

Tony set down his glass, picking up one of the tinctures instead. “And what exactly is this?”

“A gift.” Loki rocked back on his heels before continuing. “Your wife has you on a special diet, does she not?”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Yeah…”

“Well, one drop of these elixirs will make even the blandest of health foods taste like,” he tapped his finger on each jar as he explained. “Cheeseburgers. Fried potatoes. And doughnuts.”

Without a word, Tony retrieved a piece of broccoli from a veggie tray on the kitchen island and poured a drop of liquid onto the florets. With a flourish, he took a bite. Loki watched in satisfaction as Stark’s eyes widened.

“Schiiit–” he mumbled. “Unbelievable.”

Loki was caught off guard by the hug.

After explaining the magic behind the concoctions, he headed towards the living room – and his next target.

“Best regards, brother.”

“Ah, thank you for playing along, Loki,” Thor laughed, wrapping an arm around the younger prince’s shoulders as he sat on the couch. “I am glad to celebrate with you.”

“In honor of this most special occasion,” Loki replied, pulling a small brown parcel from his pocket and handing it to Thor. He picked at his palm as his brother opened the box, revealing four miniature figurines.

“Loki,” whispered Thor, his voice catching in his throat. “I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

Blinking back tears, Loki watched as Thor carefully sat the small figures on the coffee table. First was Frigga, resplendent in gold. Next was Loki, with gilded horns and emerald cape. Then Odin, complete with Gungnir. And finally, Thor, strong and mighty with lightning in one hand and his hammer in the other.

“Is this what you’ve been toiling away at in your workshop all week?”

“Yes, and I actually quite enjoyed the process,” Loki confessed, leaning forward to observe his own handiwork once more as he donned a mischievous smile. The figurine of himself was a few millimeters taller than Thor’s – practically undetectable, but Loki knew, and that was all that mattered.

“Just don’t let the Valkyrie see these, or she’ll want me to make enough to sell at the New Asgard gift shop.”

After promising Thor he’d work on figurines of the Warriors Three next, Loki headed out onto the front porch. There was still one gift left to give.

Nebula sat alone on the steps, looking up into the night sky.

“Heading back out there soon?” Loki asked, settling down beside her.

“That is the plan.”

“Here. For your adventures.” He handed her a tarnished skeleton key.

“Is this going to make our ship smell like eggs or something?” Nebula turned to him as Loki chuckled. Her skepticism was warranted. He was the trickster prince, after all.

In truth, the key was a relic from his youth. Long forgotten until yesterday, when he discovered it in his workshop.

“It is enchanted,” he explained with a grin, “but for use as a tool. That key will successfully pick any lock and open any door in the galaxy.”

“Liar,” she hissed, but Loki caught the twinkle in her black eyes as she observed the serpent at the key’s bow emit a green glow, twisting into itself.

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” he said, straightening himself before walking to the front door. “Happy birthday, Nebula.”

“How did you–” By the time she turned around, Loki had already disappeared.

***

“Some Migardian traditions aren’t so bad, are they now, brother?” Thor teased as they walked back to the compound later that evening.

Loki shook his head, but he couldn’t hide the smile spreading across his face. No, maybe life on Earth wasn’t so bad after all.

tagging @loki-cees-all @sarahscribbles @cleo-fox @tripleyeeet @use-your-telescope @the-lady-amphitrite @liminalpebble @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @joyful-enchantress @superficialdomina @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @tallseaweed @maple-seed @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fandxmslxt69

#gloriousbirthdaybash #marvel fanfiction #loki #loki drabble #loki imagine #loki fanfiction

134 notes · View notes

animedingus · 5 months

Text

I'll Help! ||Vinsmoke Sanji x GN!Reader Blurb||

Hey! My name is Pres, I was a somewhat well-known writer for the Queen/Bohemian Rhapsody fandom back in 2019/2020 with my blog @deaky-trash!!! I have returned to write once more with my new favorite thing in the world - One Piece! I am absolutely in love with the one and only Vinsmoke Sanji, but please bear with me! I have only made it to Skypiea so far, so I don't have the most extensive knowledge! Hope y'all enjoy my first fanfic in a long long time!!!

---

Pairing: Sanji x GN!Reader

Warnings: Smoking, Swearing, Injury

Word Count: 996

---

You sat in the dining room of the ship, watching as that damn flirt cooked the night’s dinner. He moved gracefully across the floor, moving from one task to the next with such precision it appeared as if he were performing a well-rehearsed dance, each step and turn executed with the elegance and purpose of a seasoned dancer. His long legs moved across the kitchen swiftly, and there was something about him…

No! No, you can’t. He flirts with every pretty face. You can’t be the special one, right? But god, he’s so gorgeous… The cigarette smoke billowing from his cigarette and covering him in this sexy haze, his blonde hair that looked oh, so soft and shiny, his sweet smile. It was mesmerizing watching him cook, and he was so natural, so beautiful in this moment of doing what he loves.

“Need help, Sanji?” you asked softly from where you were sitting. He looked up from the stove and turned to you, that same damn smile plastered across his face. His cute face… No, stop that!

Sanji laughed a bit. “Sure! I wouldn’t mind some help.” His voice was so smooth, so sweet, and it was so much more loving whenever he spoke to you. Your heart swelled as you approached the kitchen counter, giddy to be helping him in the kitchen. It felt as if you were a little kid again, your heart pounding in your chest every time you approached the tall blonde. Even the sound of your name rolling off his tongue made you blush.

“How about you toss those in and watch them fry? I have to cut up some meat,” he said, handing you a metal bowl with sliced potatoes. He continued in a teasing tone, “I trust that you can watch some fries,” before giving you a wink and turning to the counter across from the stove.

You poured the potatoes into the frying oil, the hot oil splashing back and hitting you on the cheek and neck. “Shit!” you shouted, jumping out of instinct and knocking over the pot of scalding vegetable oil. The wood sizzled, and it splashed against your legs before Sanji could even react. You winced in pain and Sanji scooped you up, away from the oil and onto the counter. He himself avoided it, stepping over the burning puddle to grab a first aid kit from the cabinet.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping between your knees and applying burn cream to the areas where the oil splashed onto your skin. He was never this close before.

“I think so… Did it get you at all, Sanji?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, okay?” His gentle hand rubbed some of the cooling ointment against your cheek, making you blush. He squatted to wrap your shins in the bandages from the first aid. His hands were so gentle, and every touch to your skin was deliberate and sweet. He made sure not to let himself place too much pressure on the burns. He looked up at you reassuringly, wanting to be absolutely certain that you were okay. He cursed himself internally, wishing it were him instead. His frown was evident, and it made you upset in turn.

“Sanji… It’s not your fault, it was an accident. I promise, I don’t blame you at all for anything that happened,” you said softly, reaching down to rustle his hair in a show of affection. That frown softened into a pout, knowing that despite your forgiveness, he still blamed himself for your injuries.

“I still feel bad. Your beautiful skin, and your perfect face got burned.”

Seeing him kneel in front of you like that, with his hands on your knees and your legs spread apart, and that pathetic, begging pout on his face did things to you. You laughed a bit and motioned for him to stand back up, him following the direction of your hand. You cupped his face, pulling him close.

“I promise, Sanji. I’m fine.”

Now, his cheeks were glowing a bright shade of pink, his eyes darting around the room to avoid eye contact. Another giggle escaped your mouth and you turned his face to ensure his eyes locked with yours. You had officially broken the poor man, and it looked as if he was about to melt into a puddle alongside the oil on the kitchen floor.

Sanji finally met your gaze, his eyes a mix of concern and something softer, something more vulnerable. The warmth of your hands on his face seemed to ground him, and for a moment, the world outside the kitchen faded away. It was just the two of you, surrounded by the chaos of a minor kitchen disaster, yet in a bubble of intimacy that neither of you had anticipated.

"You're always taking care of us, Sanji," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the ship. "Let someone take care of you for a change."

His eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth twitched into a small, genuine smile. "I guess I'm not used to being on this side of things," he admitted, his voice a blend of amusement and something akin to wonder.

Then, in a move that surprised both of you, you gently pulled him closer, bridging the gap between you. Your lips met in a kiss that was tentative at first but grew more confident as Sanji responded. It was a kiss that spoke of new beginnings, of a shared understanding and a mutual respect that had blossomed into something more.

When you finally broke the kiss, the room seemed a little brighter, the mishap with the oil a distant memory. Sanji stood up straight, a newfound determination in his eyes. "Let me finish dinner. You should rest.”

“I could always help finish up dinn-”

Before you could finish, Sanji had already brought you back to your original seat at the dining table. “Absolutely not going to happen.”

80 notes · View notes

vermont-writes-fanfic · 6 months

Text

How they make Breakfast

In response to @gothicchippy , how the people of the Hellsing Organisation and Father Anderson make breakfast! Let me know if there should be a part two!

Requested: I am going to tsay that's a yes

Warnings: Mentions of blood, blood drinking, killing people, and the mention of scars

Characters: Father Anderson, Alucard, Sir integra, Seras, Walter, Pip Bernadotte

Father Anderson:

Seeing as he seems to take care of the children back at the orpahange in Italy, it seems like he would be well versed in some good breakfast making. He would let you help make breakfast and his specialt is an italian breakfast which is simple and consists of yogurt which he would take teh time to make himself, jam and bread and fluffy fresh baked criossants. He lets you help out and will try a breakfast that you might have in mind. He keeps it light and healthy for the kids making sure they are taken care of and raised healthy. He has quite the skill in the kitchen and often times he lets you relax with him ot trace the scrs on his hands as he waits for somthing to cook or bake.

Alucard:

A morning with him isn’t rare though don’t expect it to be bathed in sunlight and giggles. The last time Alucard had human food was…a long time to best put it. He never had to cook anything because his food of choice is blood and Walter took care of all the cooking for the Hellsings. Instead you take it upon yourself to cook instead, though he is never far from you offering to help we’re he can. He’ll crack eggs or toast bread, but after the first few times of trying this little endeavor you learned not to let him man the spices.

Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing

She spends her days holed up in her office most time taking care of her work and looking at the papers she is being sent. Reports from all over the UK of many new young kings appear and in quick succession. Typically she could manage at least toast and Walter always made her tea, but lately even that is left wasted at the table as she works into the late hours. Without much luck and knowing you’re u favorable of her less than healthy eating habits, Walter asks you to coax her into eating breakfast. And you happily oblige, opting for a less American options, you took to fried mushroom, bacon, sausage, and nook and cranny. It was funny, she had no idea how to cook but the moment she was convinced to have breakfast with you and you asked her to cook she smiled and confident as ever she said,

“If I can’t learn how to cook for you, then I can’t call myself your lover now can I?”

With the assistance of Walter you end up at the desired breakfast and enjoy it on the terrace.

Seras

As part of trying to keep her humanity, Seras makes it a point to cook you breakfast almost every morning. Oftentimes you wake up to a bit of juice with some eggs and bacon or the very common beans and toast. When Seras isn’t out working and manages to stay up enough for you two to make breakfast. With a bit of convincing and a promise to clean anything used, she was able to get the kitchen every once in a while, with this she takes you into the kitchen and of course, you help prepare. Washing your hands consists of soap ending up in someone's hair or on their clothes and plenty of goofing around, after, she’ll bring out the sausage, eggs, potatoes, and cabbage and let you take care of the cooking while she peels the potatoes and dices them up. When everything is complete the two of you will sit down in her room and eat chatting about what you had ready for the day while she whines about Alucard or talks about the mission from the previous night. It’s pleasant and pretty sweet as she compliments you on how you can cook. As you eat, she sometimes wishes that she could to, that it didn’t have to be blood.

Walter

Being the top butler in the Hellsing manor, Walter has no trouble making a wonderful breakfast and is capable of making food from around the world. His memory may be a little behind him but he is still capable of making breakfast. He prefers to make the breakfast himself and will often serve you whatever he had made for Sir Integra that morning but if you request something different he is more than happy to oblige. He makes you bubble and squeak most mornings because it is simple enough to make and retains heat more so even if you wake up late it’s warm enough for you to enjoy it. On the chances where Sir Integra is out for the morning or someone else, Alucard, has taken care of serving her breakfast, he will take the time to teach you how to make a light pastry for breakfast.

Pip isn’t one for extravagant meals or something expensive, he’s still a mercenary. However, he does have a taste for the more expensive tasting things so in true french fashion he opts for a light pastry instead. If he is strapped for time then a bit of baguette and some fruit jelly works just fine for the both of you. Other times, if you and him are feeling especially patient you manage to properly make a pastry , while waiting, Pip will pull you into a dance leading you around the kitchen or tell you jokes or stories from his time some years ago overseas. It always comes out a little under or over done, not that the two of you mind.

@gothicchippy

122 notes · View notes

viiioca · 5 months

Text

day 17 - sea

from the journal of Estelle de Laussienne, 20th of the 4th Astral Moon, 4 7U.E. There's something very romanticized about the sea breeze, isn't there? Those stories we loved so well as children certainly seemed to think so. It's calming, refreshing, cleansing, so on, so forth; whatever a grim, quiet man might need to brood over some tragedy in the solitude of nature before the next act of the narrative begins. They always describe it as clean or crisp. Brisk. Bracing. How enticing! I certainly believed them all until I docked in Limsa Lominsa. I am no professional wordsmith, but perhaps I can paint a picture. It is late afternoon, when the temperature is highest and tides are lowest. I am in the markets, along with hundreds upon hundreds of other gentle citizens who have been marinating in their own sweat since morning tea, as we are gripped with a heat wave and humidity so hellish it has me questioning my faith. It is the zenith of summer, when the sluggish tide movements struggle mightily to properly exchange water out of the bay, and the wastewater grows ripe. The markets are situated in limestone tunnels, which make for a cooler midday, supposedly, save that the only method of exchanging air is through a hot, wet breeze that meanders casually from one end to the other, depositing not only the very specific scent of rotting ocean matter, but all the various excretions of the hundreds of bodies I am unfortunate enough to be downwind from. These are the nice markets, full of legal goods and respectable importers for Limsa's more moneyed professionals. Like Ishgard, wealth can be measured by altitude here; I have opened a clinic in the lower levels, closer to the water's edge. There are spaces where the water overflows at high tide and leaves behind a sort of -- grime. The markets there have fish that rot on the rack by end-of-day. There is a tannery operating up the canal that dumps an utterly eye-watering amount of piss and pigeon shit into the water (a smell so foul I can only describe it with equal terms). If that wasn't bad enough, the wind carries all the wonderful perfumes of everyday beamhouse operations to all of us who are simply trying to mind our own business. On my first day of work, I asked a patient what the godsawful smell was, and he promptly introduced to a colorful local expression involving Llymlaen and bowel movements. That is not to say the city is without charm. When the air cools, and the breeze comes to us northerly, from colder waters; when the sun sets behind the limestone spires; when I sit with strangers and a bottle of wine and a table full of these little delights -- thin ribbons of cured ham and toasted bread, olives and olive oil, bits of octopus and fried squid and potatoes spiced with sweet and hot peppers. The people here are friendly and brimming with conversation, happy to sweep foreigners up into their lives once they've passed muster and all the purse-cutting has been successfully thwarted. I don't regret it -- I only wish I had been, perhaps, a little more forewarned.

[roevember 2023 prompt by wintertitania]

#ffxiv #my wol: estelle #roevember #roevemberxiv #roevember 2023 #femroe #roegadyn #gpose #my writing #long one today whoops #the siren of worldbuilding called and i was helpless

48 notes · View notes

alexrose000 · 8 months

Text

Diet. Workouts. Lifestyle

We are now entering a period wherein we adopt the culture of South Korean artists, especially their food, exercises, clothes, dramas, and music.

Have you ever wondered why K-pop idols and actors are so skinny?

K-idols and actors balance and are strict with their lifestyles, including their workouts and food intakes.

Who wouldn't like to be as skinny as them? Let's start to be fit before the year ends.

First, be determined to workout once or twice a week at your convenience for thirty minutes to one hour. There are a lot of workout exercises on YouTube right now; you just have to do them and make a choice on which exercise is best for you. For me, cardio workouts standing I usually do once a week. First year of pandemic, usually I do workouts every day. Yeah, I was satisfied. In two weeks, I did achieve abs and became skinnier. Some of us hit the gym to become fit, which is also good.

But let's see how K-pop idols and actors do their workouts. As they said, before you make your debut in a group, you must undergo a series of training sessions in proper exercise, diet, singing, dancing, etc. Let's focus on their workout.

4th Generation Le Sserafim workout routine: 100 jumping jacks, 4x25 burpees, 2x10 jump squats (holding ears), 1 song plank crawl, 2x10 plank up and down, 2x10 plank twist, and 75 crunches

Girls Generation leg workout routine: 15 thigh hovers, 20 squats, 10 side planks, 20 inner thigh lifts, 15 hip kicks, 15 high knees, 10 lunges, and 19 hip raises

Blackpink Jennie Kim does pilates exercise for one to two hours for five days in a week. This helps to be flexible, strengthen, and tone the body.

BTS’s Jungkook Workout Routine: Knowing Jk, he does boxing exercises in his Weverse Live, but he also does 20 squats, 20 pushups, 20 jump squats, 20 pike pushups, 10 planks, 20 mountain climbers, 15 burpees, 20 crunches, 20 leg raises, and 20 Superman’s exercises to achieve his amazing toned body.

Exercise has advantages; it helps our brains improve, helps us manage our weight, strengthens our bones and muscles, improves our daily activities, and has a low disease risk (don't abuse it too much because it may also have a great risk in our body).

Second is food. Who doesn't like food? Do you know kpop idols and actors are forbidden from eating condiments, sweets, fried chicken, tteokbokki, pastry, ice cream, noodles, hamburgers, and jokbal before they debut as artists because they need to have a slim or skinny figure? They undergo really strict diets.

In the Philippines, there are a lot of fast food chains and restaurants opening from time to time.

Salt is usually what we put in our food, but have you heard that if we intake too much salt, there is a bad risk to the body? Salt intake in excess can be associated with disease, weight gain, and much more, but for us Filipinos, we can't remove it from our foods. We are fond of eating noodles, junk foods, fast foods, and restaurants. I read a lot of articles about how some salty foods can cause swelling. Sweets can gain us weight, and articles show they tend to give us acne or pimples. As per my experience, I am very observant about it. Back when I was in high school, I loved eating sweets like chocolates, candies, and much more, which gave me acne on my face and on my back. In time, I stopped eating chocolate, any sweets, and milk too. It slowly disappears, but then again, consult a physician for more information. Meat is really delicious, but the fatty part is no good if eaten too much, especially if you are really on a diet. The breadings, sauces, and ingredients we put on them are sometimes bad for our health. chicken, preferably the breast part for those on a diet.

Let's see how K-pop artists eat.

For IU, apple, sweet potato, and protein shake for a day

Suzy Bae ate one chicken breast and a banana for breakfast and drank a glass of milk. For lunch, she ate brown rice and a small vegetable salad. She finished the day with two sweet potatoes.

Blackpink Jennie's low-sodium (salt) diet, detox juices, and salad with avocado

That’s why they could lose weight in a short period of time. Remember to drink water.

I'm not saying it is bad, but in moderation, did you know that home-cooked food is still the best for me because we can control it on our own? Eating vegetables and fruits can also help us in our diet, but it really depends on a person's lifestyle and diet. There are a lot of apps now that you could try to help us plan our meals and exercises. We just need the determination within ourselves.

Wait for Part 2! for a more extensive how-to diet

#food #diet #lifestyle #kpop diet #workouts #exercise

66 notes · View notes

a-d-nox · 5 months

Text

*SALE* holiday leftovers: build your own plate

[ status: CLOSED ]

hello, my friends/followers! i am so excited yet sad to announce this sale. firstly, i am excited because i never thought i would ever hold a sale AND WHO DOESN'T LOVE A SALE!!! secondly, i am sad because this is the LAST CHANCE for you to purchase all of the below reading options (unless i see fit after this sale to re-instate any of them as options). i am grateful for everyone who has previously purchased a reading from me and thus helped me to see a trend in the readings everyone enjoys!

a few things:

- please note that with the sale i am likely to have an increased demand.

- the sale will last from today (november 22nd, 2023) until november 29th, 2023. BUT if the demand gets too high i am at my leisure to close/end the sale early.

- you must fill out this google forms. if there are issues with the link please dm me.

- all readings are non-refundable.

reading options ->

drink options (1.50 USD)

apple cider: a tarot reading. you ask a series of 3 yes or no questions (they must all be different questions). you may chose if you want to hear the why or why not.

cranberry juice: a tarot reading used to identify the energy that surrounds you and how can you best protect your energy.

espresso: an archetypal reading. i use the fantod pack, a creepy little deck, to tell you what disturbing image you are. from the waltzing mouse to the burning head to the body bag, this deck keeps you guessing and i can tell you how you can beat the elements of this strange archetype.

pumpkin juice: a tarot reading. a short reading regarding the energy of the day (or surrounding a situation) and what you should look out for.

appetizer options (3.00 USD)

baked brie: a matrix of destiny / wyrd web reading. side hustle potential assessment based on the wyrd web.

cheese ball: an astrology reading. pick three things you wish to know about your mercury return cycle (what your communication style will be like this cycle, what your voice is like, how your thinking changes, your health changes, perspective changes, your writing style or endeavors, social media trends (your online status), short trips you could be taking, your mannerisms and how they change, your mode of transportation / transportation woes, etc.).

cranberry brie jalapeño poppers: an astrology reading. pick three things you wish to know about your mars return cycle (your confidence and lack thereof, sex life, what will make you angry / frustrated / aggressive / competitive, your impulsive behavior, where you are dominant / a leader, the challenge(s) you face, etc).

cranberry-glazed turkey meatballs: using the green glyph's rune deck, i give general advice on any given subject matter.

fried mashed potato bites: a tarot reading. why you struggle in romances. warning: harsh / brutal honesty.

mac and cheese balls: using the green glyph's oracle deck, i give general advice on any given subject matter.

popover: a matrix of destiny / wyrd web reading. a generational number combo assessment based on the wyrd web.

pumpkin hummus: a tarot reading. what is your strength and what is your weakness - great for job applications as well (i don't care if you want to copy and paste it for use in your applications).

sugar roasted nuts: a matrix of destiny / wyrd web reading. a love assessment based on the wyrd web (matrix of destiny). assesses what is stopping you from finding love, what your romantic partners are like (the ideal and toxic versions), and how you can keep love flowing towards you in this lifetime.

sweet potato bites: a tarot reading. vibe check on your mind, body, and spirit as well as advice (if needed). this is NOT a medical assessment and can NOT be used as a diagnosis.

side options (6.00 USD)

mashed potatoes: a tarot reading. seven card draw evaluation of the energy of each day of your week ahead as well as advice to make the week the best and most efficient that it can be.

rolls: a tarot reading. best bet for any topic NOT seen in the list - will address the past, present, and future regarding your question as well as the energies involved.

sweet potato casserole: a tarot reading. stuck between two options? this reading will help you weigh pros and cons as well as tells you the potential outcome of acting towards either option.

main course options (20.00 USD)

turkey: using the green glyph's lenormand deck i give general advice on any given subject matter. this a reading using the maximum amount of cards in a lenormand deck.

glazed ham: a tarot reading. at a crossroad in life with three options and no clue which to go for? this one is for you - lets you know where each leads and gives advice cards as well.

duck confit: a tarot reading. the current vibes of each energy associated with the astrological houses (1h-12h).

32 notes · View notes

mylevisdontfitanymore · 11 months

Note

I don’t know what to do w this thought bc there is no plot but I’ve been thinking a lot abt stucky Wandavision au w belly kink and it’s just all sweet and innocent at first yk 1950s all pg and sweet and it just dives into an absolutely kinky hellfest of Bucky stuffing Steve making him burst out of his suit each decade with just a fatter Steve with different popular foods of the era and is KSBDKD ekem anyways -🐮

This is gonna be another case of me admitting that I am not a good Marvel fan because... I didn't watch WandaVision 🫣🫣 BUT you're a goddamn genius because that concept is so hot.

With every decade, Steve gets fatter. Fatter and fatter and fatter. Testing the limits of all these different styles of clothes. Finding new favorite types of food. Each morning, Steve leaves their home a little larger and a little slower until... maybe he won't be leaving at all 😳

Warning for stucky belly kink, (probably) historical inaccuratacies, weight gain, stuffing, clothes destruction/tight clothes, immobility, some name calling (pig, whale, etc.), and all that kinky goodness below.

1950s

I'm thinking about the excess that was the 1950s in America.

The post-WWII booming economy lends itself to this picture-perfect life that is seemingly within reach (if you were white, middle class, and heterosexual). A house, a car, a dog, children, etc. And all this overflow - this excess speeds up Steve's gain like nothing else. Bucky is a stay-at-home house husband, while Steve goes out to work; so, that also speeds Steve's gain because Bucky has to keep himself busy, he's got to do something other than clean, launder clothes, pay bills, or whatever. Cooking and grocery shopping fills most of his time in a way he enjoys.

Bucky always ends up cooking too much - making too much food for just the two of them. Then, because he's made too much, he overuses ingredients, and he has to go back to the store to get more... maybe he should get more when he's there? Right? He needs to buy more ingredients so he doesn't have to come as often. Steve ate everything Bucky cooked anyway, so it's not like it was actually too much, right?

Right?

So, at the start of the decade, Steve is nice and strapping. Under his pressed shirt, suit jacket, suspenders, and trousers, he's got a full fucking six pack, tight, high pecs, and broad as hell shoulders with legs that go on for days. But Bucky is getting good at building a soft husband. With every dish he perfects, every meal he cooks, he gets closer and closer to a chubby husband. Every day.

Hamburger, tuna fish, and chicken casseroles; meat loaf; fried chicken and deep-fried vegetables; mac and cheese; spam and canned ham; spareribs and salisbury steak; hot dogs; buttery mashed potatoes; banana cream pies, cherry angel food cake, and pineapple upside-down cake... all popular foods that Steve readily eats. And eats.

No matter how much Bucky makes, Steve will try to finish it all. He deeply appreciates being cooked for and he wants to show his appreciation. Even if, at the start, not everything is perfect.

If Steve doesn't finish it all by dessert, Bucky knows it will be gone by the time he wakes up with Steve in the morning. Steve gets up for work, Bucky gets up to make his hardworking husband breakfast, sending him off with a full belly (nevermind the fact that Steve is still gurgling through his dinner from the day prior and his midnight snack turned midnight feast).

Anyway-

Steve becomes accustomed to coming come from a long day at work to delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. It's never long before Bucky comes out, full frilly apron and all, and steers Steve into their dining room, sitting him down and serving up all the different dishes he's made for that day in a seemingly endless stream.

Steve compliments and moans his way through all of the dishes. Trying every single one. Not just trying a bite of each, but eating the lion's share of every dish. He makes sure Bucky has his fill, but everything else goes toward Steve. He can't help it. He's a stubborn, determined guy. Even if it didn't taste good (which it does, Steve could be convinced he's in heaven), Steve would be eating it all. But it does taste good. And he wants his husband to know he's doing good. So... down it all goes.

Until, by the time dessert is rolled own, Steve has his hands flat on the table over top of his knife and fork where they rest on his placemat. His glass is empty for now, he's gulped down glass after glass of milk with his meal, and he'll have a few more before he's done - the fatty drink bloating him by filling in all the cracks that fold can't fit into. Steve's got his head bowed, and his chest is heaving. Eyes squeezed shut.

Full.

"F-full," Steve puffs out, his lips slick. But, he's not done.

As he's stuffed his face, his tie has shifted to the side, exposing his shirt buttons. A while ago, Bucky helped him messily roll up his shirt sleeves as to not get them (more) dirty. He looks disheveled. Every shallow breath leaves his stretched stomach expanding more, truly testing the limits of his previously nicely starched shirt. Now his shirt is stained. He isn't a messy eater, but with all he's eating, there's no way that he wouldn't drop something on his swelling belly, beginning to split his suspenders apart and crush his belted slacks down.

The more often they do this, the more they settle into this time period, the more the buttons of Steve's shirts gape - little diamonds growing between each button, exposing more and more of his ribbed undershirt.

Someday, they're gonna bust. Coming off one by one. Pop. Pop. Pop. Bucky's toes curl just thinking about it. The release of each one, too tight, Steve's pot belly - his swelling gut, a beer gut under construction - forcing them to come flying off. Then, his belly rounding out. Expanding into the new space. Happy to be released and ready for more with the added space and freedom.

1960s

Bucky mourns the loss of visible straining buttons with the change of fashion following the decade. Or, actually, he mours the loss right up until he gets to stuff his heavier husband again. In his new clothes.

Then, when he does stuff him in this new style (with new foods, of course), Bucky is suddenly much happier. Not just from stuffing him. He's much happier because, as it turns out, the buttons being hidden isn't that bad. Not at all 🤤

With his stuffy little sweater over his dress shirt, covering his tie and gaping buttons and struggling, worn-out belt, Bucky suddenly gains a whole new level of appreciation for sweaters - the sweater makes him look even chunkier. A layer of softness over his softness. Rounding him out even more. Padding him just that little bit more.

The sweater balloons out and out, showing the indents of each straining button underneath until...

His belly gets to be too much, too big, and his sweater creeps up, showing off the bottom of his button-up shirt where it's getting tugged out of his unbearably tightly belted pants.

That little sliver of his shirt. Exposed. It makes Bucky crazy.

And, oh, there's the waist band of his pants (not for long, his belly will start hanging over before long), too. A little bit.

Just a peak.

A tease that leaves Bucky unable to do anything but feed Steve a whole course by hand, packing food into him with the goal to push the hem of his sweater up higher and higher on the dome of his gut. He wants that dress shirt to come untucked from the stretch he's putting Steve's tummy through, too.

He wants it.

He wants to see the slow, drawn-out progression. The tease. Up and up and up; rounder and rounder and rounder.

Another perk of the sweater is the heat it brings. Steve's a big, growing boy, so he already gets hot fast. But, it only gets worse with his fat and added sweater insulation. Now when he stuffs himself - or when Bucky stuffs him - he turns the prettiest pink then red. Glistening with sweat. 🥵

Overtaxed.

Overheated.

Overfed.

More and more every day, more and more every year, Steve looks more overfed. Fatter. Heavier. Rounder.

(That might be the part about time, how it blends into a montage of growth.)

Sweaters and vests aren't Bucky's favorite 60s trend, though. Far from it. Bucky's favorite thing about the 60s is how suddenly everyone is into finger foods.

Deviled eggs, skewered meatballs in sweet-and-sour sauce, celery stuffed with cream cheese, cheese balls, etc. Anything you can eat with your hands, no silverware. Also, with the finger food comes dips. Clam dip, onion dip, and many more that Bucky would've never thought to make on his own. Dips for dipping little bits of food gripped between fingers.

And finger foods are fucking awesome because Steve eats then messily. At first, he shoves them inhumanly fast into his face, moaning and gasping and sighing. He comes home feeling starved (re: after not being stuffed to the brim, hardly able to move, during the workday), and seeing all the little pieces of food turn him into a monster. A hungry beast. He plows through the little morsels. Never getting enough. Steve uses one hand to settle his swelling gut, and his other hand blurs as he rapidly goes between trays of food and his mouth. Again, eating like an animal. An animal of Bucky's making - he trained him to eat like a pig after all.

When Steve finally slows down, rubbing his tummy and patting it, trying to get his belly to digest faster so he can have more, Bucky gets to swoop in. Another reason finger foods are fucking great. He picks up the little foods delicately and tucks them into Steve's still watering mouth.

With every mouthful, Steve's lips and tongue brush his fingers. It's electric, the wet, hot, slick feeling of his mouth. Pure sin.

Bucky's hands are close enough to Steve to feel it when he moans or when he burps, the hot rush of desperate air. Steve only burps around Bucky's fingers when it comes up so suddenly that Steve can't turn his head to the side to burp more politely. Privately, that gives Bucky quite the thrill, his dirty, hungry pig. Burping uncontrollably. Sure, moaning is hot as hell, but there's something extra about his burps.

Also, about the gurgling of his gut.

His gut under that fucking sweater, dress shirt, and tie. Now he's not just bloated anymore, though... not after a decade of stuffing, now he's got fat. His gut is bloated all the time, glutted fully, but he's also fat. He's soft.

He's never been more handsome, but he's only going to get more handsome as he gets fatter.

1970s

With the turn of the decades, Bucky buys himself more clothes and gets himself familiar with rising food trends, and he also does as he always does, buying Steve new clothes, too. Usually, though, he buys what he knows Steve will wear. Just underwear for sleeping. Blue jeans and t-shirts for non work clothes. And formal work clothes. Boring and simple because Steve's never really cared about his body or looks, uncaring so long as he keeps functioning, but he's so handsome it doesn't matter that he doesn't care so much about fashion. This time, though, Bucky also buys what he hopes Steve will wear. Because something catches his eye.

He can't help himself.

He hopes with everything in him, that Steve will wear some of the tiny, little shorts that have come into fashion for men.

He desperately wants to see Steve in tiny shorts.

So, he buys a few pairs. Some jean shorts that look unforgiving and might cut his doughy waist in delicious halves, some softer more sweatpants-like shorts that will be easier on his sensitive, overstuffed body, and a pair that are modeled like women's athletic shorts, just for the shits and giggles of seeing Steve in something designed for athleticism.

Despite buying them with the intention to get Steve in them, Bucky's still not prepared for it when it happens. He doesn't even have to use his puppy dog eyes or have to wait to ask Steve until he's stuffed and pliable! Steve just shrugs and agrees to it. He's gotten more and more pliable (more domesticated) the larger he's gotten. Maybe it's the fat slowing his body and mind down. Maybe it's making him dumber to be full and indulged all the time. Maybe be stuffed satiates him, leaving him without any room to be stubborn or argue.

Either way, Bucky gets Steve into them. And he is unprepared.

Steve is poured into the little shorts. Not only is there no space between his pale, bare thighs, his thighs squish together, trying to find more space - they're so soft, wide, and excessive - and not getting any. His massive ass hangs out the back of the shorts. Dimpled and round. Like cake. Soft, soft cake that Bucky wants to bite.

His poor husband works up a sweat, waddling from one side of the room to the other and back again and again when Bucky tells him to. He wants to see that ass move.

He's. chunked. up.

Also, also, there's his hips. Those trim, little hips are nowhere to be seen. Instead, his tiny waist has expanded. His love handles hang out of his undershirt - a ribbed, white tank top - and lap over the waist of the shorts. His tummy has really, really started hanging recently; it's just as exposed as his fat sides. It's so heavy and large. Swollen like a fat tear drop.

He looks edible.

As compensation for being forced to strut his overweight, plush, pale body around their living room, Bucky feeds him his entire dinner by hand. And he does it from the couch. TV trays have been popular since their inception in the 50s, but Bucky has always gotten more of a kick out of feeding Steve at the table. Progressively watching his belly approach the table, then push over the edge of the table and spill onto his placemat as he's gotten bigger; progressively watching his hips fill his dining chair; progressively watching Steve struggle harder and harder to walk out of the dining room when he's finally finished, stuffed full.

Now, Bucky breaks out the (slightly out of fashion) trays.

He sets up the feast, course by course. Some of it is actual food: pineapple chicken, quiche, stuffed veggies, and cheese logs. Some of it is snacks, more and more processed crap becoming more common: cereal, crackers, chips, etc. And some of it is dessert: carrot cake and pudding.

Before he eats any of it, though, those little shorts are swallowed by Steve's heft. The scrap of fabric is hidden under his massive muffin top. Bucky digs his fingers into those pudgy love handles and groans.

"Gonna feed you outta these," he promises, voice gone all breathy.

Steve bats his eyelashes and lets his mouth drop open, expectant, and so outrageously hot. After the first bite, he speaks, though, chewing, then licking his lips, "you always do."

"Mmm-hmm, you wouldn't know how hard I had to look to find these in your size."

Steve makes a sound, but his mouth is stuffed fill.

"It was so hard. I wonder if they're gonna stop making anything big enough for you soon."

Stee swallows thickly, "they wouldn't."

Bucky stuffs a heaped fork into his mouth. Making a noise of consideration.

"You hear the news, people are just gettin' fatter. Year after year."

"You're getting fatter."

"Uh-huh."

"Gonna get so fat for me."

"I already am. 'M huge."

"Gonna make you fatter. Huger."

"Yeah," Steve moans, his eyes shut, entirely trusting Bucky, "Gonna get too fat for fat America to even keep up with me."

(I know obesity was actually declared an epidemic in the 80s, but shhhh)

1980s

The 80s brings pasta salad, beef stroganoff, sloppy joes, pudding pops, 7-layer dip, blackened meat, bread bowls, cool ranch Doritos, and Hot Pockets. And Steve tackles it all looking like the hottest, fattest bad boy. Maybe like a mobster boss with his light wash jeans that look like they're painted on and his black leather jacket that he can't zip up. He could zip it up around his gut for, like, a week. Then, he outgrew it. Like everything. That gut.

God.

His gut has grown obscenely round. Like a ball. A beach ball. Maybe a small yoga ball. It forces his legs to spread when he walks, even if he isn't full, and it makes his back arch, too.

It's heavy. He complains about it. It's hard to lug around. He gets embarrassed when he's forced to sit down and then get up because he has to put so much effort into getting up. Heaving himself to his feet. Grunting. Bracing his back as if he's expecting. Getting up from the bed in the morning, getting up from the table after breakfast, getting into and out of his car to get to work, getting out of his office chair for lunch, getting out of his lunch chair, and on and on.

He has a hard time moving.

Bucky can tell.

Steve puts on his leather jacket and jeans on the weekend and then parks his ass in his recliner. He only moves when he has to go to the bathroom. Otherwise, he sits all day. Eating. Watching TV. Letting Bucky lower his recliner into a 180° line so Bucky actually has room to ride him. (One of the only ways to have sex now, with how large Steve has grown). There ain't no way Bucky would be able to get to his dick with that fat, thick belly in the way. There isn't even any room on his lap anymore. The monster of always-hungry gut has it monopolized. And his thighs are nearly too wide, too fat for Bucky to comfortably straddle.

But...

Bucky is a little obsessed with his leather jacket.

Sometimes, when he's half riding him, taking his cock, half feeding him a sloppy joe that makes him look like a pig, smeared over his mouth and chin, he will slap Steve's gut until he sucks in with a pained groan. Then, Bucky'll use all his strength to pull the sides of his leather jacket together, and he will wiggle the zipper up as far as it can go.

Steve grunts and moans and burps.

If he has the air, his lungs compressed by his gut, Steve will moan, "it hurts! Buck! I- I can't! M' too full!" But usually he can't even complain. He just has to take it.

When he stops sucking in, the zipper flies down.

Or, it usually does.

One afternoon, the pressure of his fat is too much for his jacket. Steve is bubbly and drunk and burping and Bucky is so close, writhing on top of him. And Steve's gut surprises them both by breaking the zipper.

It bursts open.

Instantly, Bucky's hands are all over that gut, and he's coming. All Steve can do is moan. Blinded with the release. His belly is stretched. Tight. Hanging off of his body. He's gonna fucking pop. Too much.

When did he get this fat?

Why does it make him so horny?

God.

He whines, almost choking out a sob, grabbing for Bucky's still slim hips with fat fingers, as he cries, "more, more, moremoremoremore."

1990s

Steve may spend all of the 90s on a sugar high because he eats like a fucking kid throughout the years. All the sugar. All the processed crap. It's addictive. He swears. They have to put something in it. He smashes through boxes and boxes of snacks. All at once. The amount he goes through in just a week is unbelievable. He's a fucking black hole, well, not exactly... because Bucky knows exactly where all the food goes. His ever-swelling husband.

Steve eats it all, lunchables, hot pockets, bagel bites, pizza rolls, gushers, string cheese, fish sticks, fruit by the foot, toaster strudel, etc.

All literal junk. Junk food.

Bucky feeds him real food, too, of course. But Steve swears it feels like he can't get enough. Not enough food. Not enough of the fake, processed shit. Even when he's fighting his body's physical ability to fit more inside of himself, he can't have enough. He needs more. More sugar that his brain needs. More rich, homemade food that he will always eat, and will especially eat if Bucky gives him those puppy dog eyes, too.

So, what is he supposed to do but eat?

Admittedly, throughout the decades, Steve's never felt this out of control. He is, though. He's so out of control. And it feels so good.

He doesn't want control back. He only wants more.

Despite his vivacious hunger, Steve still can't believe how fast he's piling on the pounds. It's like he can feel himself blowing up. Like, if he leaves a hand on his gut, it'll expand visibly under his palm. Hot, gurgly, and only tight when he's at his absolute maximum. Most of the time, he's officially too fat to know when he's packed to the brim.

Nothing feels better.

Nothing fucks his mind more than thinking when he puts his hands on his body, he'll find a rock hard, bloated tummy only to sink his fingers into jiggly waves of fat; an ocean of fat. And it's all him.

His belly.

His fat.

Steve can, for a little, hide the bloat the shitty food leaves him with with the oversized, still bad-boy, grunge-like clothing of the decade, but he outgrows it so fast that he never can hide it for too long.

Even those JNCO jeans and baggy flannels can't contain his massive body. His belly. His love handles. His ass. His thighs. His rolls. He's too big. Too big for anything to be oversized on him.

Bucky buys him clothes more often throughout this decade than any other. It's not just in Steve's head. He is speeding through the pounds. Day in, day out, he's growing.

He's always eating. Always sweating. Always moaning.

If his mouth isn't full of food, he's sleeping, showering, using his mouth on Bucky, or he's chugging teeth-rotting soda. The carbination makes him burp so easily, and the burps shift all that food inside him around, allowing his belly to create just a little more room. Room that Steve instantly has to fill.

It's kinda like his body is finally taking after his hunger. When there's any tiny amount of space in his belly, his mind tells him he's starving and he has to fill it; if there's a tiny amount of slack in his clothes, his body expands to fill it. With so much fat and so much food, Steve's eyes are heavily lidded constantly. He feels drunk all the time when he's pigged out. Slow and lazy and uncoordinated. All he can do is let Bucky feed him and let Bucky take pleasure in his blubbery, irresistible body.

2000s

Diets, raw diets, explode in the 2000s, but Bucky won't let Steve hear a word of it. He skips the fruit smoothies and salads and replaces them for Steve with more junk food. Pepsi. Energy drinks. Cupcakes. Cake pops. Pizza. There's also, again, meatloaf and mac 'n cheese. Chicken pot pie, too.

Steve keeps going. He keeps stuffing down junk on top of all the actual food. He keeps gaining and gaining and gaining. It's a barrage, constantly, of food.

"Buck," Steve's loose lips slur, "'m-I'm fat."

"You're not just fat, Stevie. You're huge. A hog. Massive. Enormous. A whale. Immense. A fucking yoga ball of blubber, baby."

"Yeah," Steve whines, rubbing the bloated sides of his gut that he can reach. "Fat."

"No, baby, you're more than fat. You're massive. Say it-" Bucky commands, jiggling his heavy belly.

"I'm m-massive."

"So fucking fat that I can't believe it. Need more words to tell you how huge you are."

Steve just shivers, looking as if he's suspended in orgasm. Getting off on being told how unbelievably big he has grown to be, and how much more bigger he is going to get.

Regardless of his size, Bucky isn't so sure that Steve is aware of the change in style. He's pretty sure he's just aware of his inflating body and the food. The new foods. The returning foods.

Into the Future

When he's not working, Bucky swears Steve is constantly in a food coma. Even when his eyes are open, he's all dopey. Zoned out and happier than Bucky has ever seen him so long as he's eaten within the last 30 minutes.

What a big, fat dumbass.

The perfect husband.

I don't even know what alternative universe this is; I didn't think this far because this is just a mess of horny, but I would like to imagine that by this point (the 2010s, 2020s, etc.), they have more than enough money to retire, OR maybe Steve is still working for a while, but he starts being able to work from home with computers becoming better and more common, so he doesn't have to leave. No more calories wasted by needing to walk or spend lunch away from his feeder husband.

But, just because he can, he still forces himself into clothes. At first. He doesn't need to because he's not seeing anyone else, he may as well be naked all day every day, exposing his white, soft fat that's striped with stretch marks from decades of indulgence, ballooning like biscuit dough from a little cardboard tube.

Still, he keeps forcing himself into clothes for some time.

He does it until he can't.

It happens seemingly overnight.

Suddenly, he's too fat. Too big. Even his shirts large enough to look like a tent on a normal sized human are too small. He can hardly walk by himself, so, of course, dressing himself is out of the question. His body is just too big. Round. Heavy. All he's good for is eating.

He's overqualified for stuffing himself. It's all he's been focusing on for decades, after all. Steve always ate like it was his job, packing down delicious, fatty calories by inhaling food until he was on the cusp of bursting, forming new stretch marks before Bucky's very eyes, but now it is his job.

"Grow for me," Bucky whispers worshipfully, "that's all you gotta do, baby. Grow." Crawling all over his overflowing body.

And grow Steve does.

Until he's bigger than he could've ever imagined being.

Steve's stomach is massive - a huge, round, plush ocean of fat attached to his front. Thick and blubbery. His ass is dimpled and just as massive with thighs to match. His heavy body leaves him lumbering and waddling whenever he does manage to get up. Awkward but also so fucking hot with the way he jiggles all over as he manages one foot in front of the other.

Meanwhile, Bucky spends his time still cooking but also loving on his massive husband. He's always worshipping all that fat, massaging and groping and fucking it. He's irresistible. Unbelievably attractive in his truest form - a show winning hog.

As Bucky feeds and fucks his rolls, Steve just lies there, his head tipped back, food in his plush mouth, panting. Chest heaving; moobs wobbling. Splattering come somewhere deep in his rolls as his fat rubs and moves against him just right - that's all the stimulation he gets these days, his dick has been swallowed by his lard.

There isn't a time when Steve isn't stuffed to feeling as if he's gonna pop. Even though it takes so much more to fill his stretched-out tummy these days. Even in the middle of the night (because Bucky wakes him up to funnel shakes or melted ice cream straight into his ever-expanding gut).

By this point in their long lives, Steve's the size of their mattress.

A full, huge glutton.

And Steve doesn't want to stop. Neither does Bucky. With every mouthful of food, Steve moans just as loud as he always has, praising Bucky's cooking like he's a God (and he practically is at this point, he's spent so many years perfecting his craft). Plus, Steve's just as eager to try new foods. Still, Steve's just as pleased to add pounds, stretch marks, and rolls to his oversized body. The only difference is that now, popping buttons or bursting seams are not bench marks for his gain. Now, the signs of his growth come from the creaking, then the cracking of the slats underneath his massive body.

One day, the bed is going to give out. And he's only going to groan for more food - not for it to be fixed where he lies in the middle of the shattered bed frame, unable to do anything about his predicament. He can't even think about it. All he can think about is how hungry he is. His stomach is packed, and he doesn't know where any food is going to go, but he needs it. He needs to keep chewing, to keep growing, to keep feeding. Please. Please. Please. It's all he needs. He's addicted.

In conclusion:

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #🐮 anon #belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #chubby steve #immobility #animal play #tight clothes #clothes destruction

74 notes · View notes

bg3fan · 5 months

Text

How to bake your way to a smith´s heart

Part 1

( I think you can read this as a one-shot)also caution it´s not proof-read

Emma left an hour ago, that means that you´re left with cleaning up the bakery, you two own. It isn´t big and it did cost a fortune but with your parents help you two were able to buy it and finally fulfill the dream you both had since growing up.

As kids you two would build your own bakery with cardbords and use mud or sand to make your dough while flowers and grass were used as sprinkles.

Sighning, you wipe the floor clean from all the flour, losing your hope that Dammon would visit you today. Perhaps you did creep him out by comming unannounced and even telling him that you´ve been watching him.

After you came back you didn´t dare to look out of the window, too embaressed that he might catch you.

Finished wiping the floor, you stand up with aching knees to wash the dishes next in the other room.

While washing them, you hear the door´s bell and annoyed you come out at the desk to tell the customer that you´re already closed for the day.

But to your surprise; Dammon is standing there with a small bashfull smile, carrying your basket in his hand. "Am I disturbing?"

You hold your hands up and shake your head "No, not at all... but we are all out off sweets, unfortunately." You give him an apologetic look.

"Ah, I´m sure your treats are much tastier here, inside the quiet bakery than in my forge... but I´ve come to bring your basket back." He puts the item on your desk as he looks around, admiring the decoration and it doesn´t seem like he is ready to go yet.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" you catch the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks as he rubs his neck while asking.

Your own face heats up "Uhm, yes, erm- I mean no I don´t have plans but yes I-I would spend it with you- if that´s what your asking of course..."

Dammon chuckles at your behaviour and you can´t help but laugh a little too. It´s clear that he knows you have a crush on him which gives him the confidence to ask you out.

"Then we could go for some tea or a light meal in the tavern?" You nod and look down on yourself then back at him "but I´ll need to go back home and change real quick, if that´s ok."

The tiefling agrees and tells you that he´ll be back in an hour to pick you up, so that you two can walk together there.

After he left you run up the stairs to your room and get ready as fast as possible. You put on nicer clothes and decide that you should let your hair open. Quickly putting on a little makeup, you grab your bag and go downstairs. The half finished dishes are long forgotten in the sink.

Dammon´s already waiting for you outside, wearing a simple shirt and vest, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows which reveal several little burns and scars on his arms from working in the forge.

You rush outside, his tail wags excitedly as he catches the sight of you by his side. "I hope you didn´t wait too long" you start.

He offers you his arm which you bashfully accept. "Don´t worry, you´re right on time." He offers you a smile and guides you to the next tavern.

All while you feel your heart beating against your chest because of how close he is. You´re itching to put your other hand on his arm as well, curious how his muscel and rigged skin must feel like.

Even though it´s almost 10 p.m the city is still wide awake, there are a lot of people who are also very drunk but the walk to the tavern isn´t long and you two arrive it in less than a 15 mins walk.

The noise of the tavern makes you feel a little uneasy since you´re not a fan of loud sounds in general and it seems that Dammon also caught up on that by your tense body language.

That´s why he guides you to a small table in the corner, hoping that it would ease your mind a little.

"Do you already know what you´d like to order?" he asks as you both look at the menu. "Yeah I think I´ll take the same as always; some fried potatoes with the yoghurt sauce."

He nods and calls for the waiter to order for the two of you "I´ll have the chicken steak with grilled vegetables and for my partner fried potatoes with yoghurt sauce. For drinks we would like some lemonade." And with a nod the waiter is gone.

You can´t help but figet a little on your chair as he called you his partner. "You look quite lovely tonight, [Name]" and again he manages to make a blushing mess out of you.

"Thank you, I know I probably looked a bit messy earlier when I came to your forge" you admit but he chuckles fondly and assures you that "No, I actually thought you looked quite adorable even though you came straight from your bakery. The flour on your clothes actually suits you very well."

The waiter is quick with your order and as Dammon thanks him he leans back with his drink "Don´t worry about being messy around me, I think you know my work isn´t the definition of clean."

And you do just that, you both dig into your meal and it seems that Dammon was very hungry since he eats way faster than you do.

After minutes of silent eating he begins "What made you decide to open the bakery nearby?"

Swallowing your food you start to explain "Well, it was always my dream to open up a bakery with my friend Emma. Even as kids we would tell everybody that we will have our own bakery someday. But without her and my parents I wouldn´t be able to, even though I had a lot of jobs to save up the money."

Dammon listens and nods understandingly "I feel the same way about smithing... and I´ve also worked extremely hard to forge my name in this town..."

He chuckles before looking at you "Pardon the pun."

Taking a bit of his meal he continues "How has business been going for you?"

You are relishing the possibility to talk about your bakery "You know, sometimes it goes good and then bad agan. It´s a constant rollercoaster actually so it´s never really steady. Also the customers for some reason rarely try any new receipts out and sometimes they are so rude about the littlest thing which leaves me questining humanity at some point."

Dammon smiles warmly with understanding eyes and he can tell that you are very passionate about your bakery.

"But how is it going for you?" you ask in return.

Before answering he takes a sip of his drink "It´s been an experience, for sure." He puts his glass down and rubs his chin thoughtfully, "The locals seem to appreciate my work, some of the adventures I forged weapons for have come back for more." he proudly tells you.

His expression sours for a second "Not everone is a fan of a tiefling though, at least not at first. I suppose my appearance can be intimidating."

Feeling bad for him, you put your hand over his "I´m sorry, I cant imagine how horrible it must be to be the victim of rasicm. I´ve also heard how some people talk about tieflings."

He turns his hand around to hold your as his voice falters a bit when he mentions "Yes... I´ve heard my fair share of slurs while walking the streets. Many avoid me or give me dirty looks."

You squeeze his hand, thinking about how people could be this mean to someone so nice, even if they don´t know him. "If it´s anything worth I think your tiefling features look good and I had no ill thoughts about you." Confessing this makes you avoid his gaze while your cheeks heat up.

Even Dammon can´t hide his blush as his tail stills before wagging happily again. "Thank you... that´s very sweet of you to say [Name]. Not everyone appreciates my infernal features, even me sometimes."

He chuckles and strokes his thumb over your hand. His hand leaves yours and you already miss his warmth over your now cold one.

The rest of the dinner goes rather quietly. You two talk a little about this and that, getting each other to know better.

As the waiter comes back for the bill, Dammon is quick to turn down your offer to at least pay for yourself, reasoning "Please, allow me to pay for today. I don´t often have someone to dine with and I´d like to repay you for the sweets today."

On your way home he again offers his arm which you happily accept. You two walk in silence, finally the city quiet down which creates a comfortable atmosphere between you two.

A shiver runs down your spine as the wind blows against your back. "May I?" he ask while taking his arm out of yours to put it around your shoulders, nodding you allow him as you snuggle his side.

Being this close to him, lets you feel his warmth and smell his scent, which make you weak once again.

At the entrance of your bakery, he starts "Today was really nice, I hope we could repeat it sometime."

"Yes, I´d love to." You give his cheek a little peck while he squeezes your shoulders. He watches you get in before waving a little bye, making sure that you´re save so that he can go to his own home across the street.

You don´t really feel like sleeping, thinking about the dinner causes you to giggle and kick your feet. You can´t help but daydream about the next steps with Dammon. How and when he would confess his love for you.

Also I´m always open to talk about this fine man, (I´m basically open to chat about literally every bg3 character) xD

#Man I want to smootch this tiefling so bad :(#dammon bg3 #bg3 dammon #dammon #dammon x reader #Dammon fic #Dammon fanfic #bg3fan #dammon fic

29 notes · View notes

slocumjoe · 1 year

Note

could i get your take on what the companions (or just my favorite boy X6's) top 10 fave candies/foods would be in a modern AU?

anon you are in luck, because I am constantly thinking about the diets and eating habits of my blorbos

The numbered list isn't in any particular order, it's just so I don't have to manually count each point

What the companions would eat if not in a post apocalypse

Cait; Wouldn't have a taste for fancier cuisine. Eats more...hick-ish. I can say that because I was a hick with this kind of diet, growing up. Has a taste for filling, cheap, low-effort food...think lots of fast food, but "healthier" fast food. Like Chipotle, Panera, etc. Can cook, doesn't often, but will if she has a craving. Savory or tart tastes. She tends to eat lighter than you'd expect.

Blueberry brownie anything, favors dark chocolate in general

Submarine sandwiches, anything with pickles

Key lime pie

Salt and vinegar chips and thinks critics of such chips are cowards

Peach Redbull, any energy drinks though

Storebought hummus and Doritos, has been seen eating hummus with just a spoon though

Blueberry bread pudding. Simple to make, fun to eat, very comforting. Buys her bread already stale from a local bakery, has a guy to hook her up with the old shit

Seafood chowder

Sausages in any capacity. Jerky sticks, breakfast sausage, etc. Loves chorizo.

Honey buns from the gas station

Curie; Health nut, she eats like every influencer claims they eat like. Only, Curie actually eats like that. Lots of fresh foods and whole grains, little red meat. However, Curie makes a point to have foods that other health nuts would condemn, thinks its really important to not label any food as "bad." So, she balances between health nut and normal person. Her taste leans toward bright and/or sweet. Dislikes red meat.

Salmon breakfast wraps

Tropical fruit smoothies, eats so much pineapple

Iced tea, favors raspberry. Never seen without an iced tea of some kind

Halibut tacos, likes red cabbage and a fuck ton of lemon on it. Soft shells all the way

Bananas foster

Whipped brie dip, eats it with anything but loves it on apples, basically dessert

Lemon pepper grilled chicken and rice

So many salads, loves that you can just throw shit in a bowl and call it a recipe. Likes strawberries and almonds

Lemon poppyseed muffins

Shrimp and bitter melon stir fry

Danse; mixed bag. One on hand, small town diner tastes. Simple, cheap, good ol' American food. On the other, he's doomed to be a soldier in every universe he's in, so...maybe he picks up some tastes and dishes from places he's toured. Gets a weird pallate that shoots in all directions and makes you wonder what it's like in that thick skull. One day he's a good American boy with pancakes and steak, the next he's eating cake mix dry and drinking tahini from a flask.

Anything BBQ, but a pulled pork devotee

Hot coffee so heavily creamed and sugars it looks like milk. He likes the twix combo of chocolate, shortbread, and caramel flavors

Prepackaged baked goods a la Hostess, fucks up little Debbie oatmeal cookies

Apple and pecan pie

Menemen—Turkish dish, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, bell peppers, spices to taste, and (controversially) onions. Adds sausage and cheese, eats it with a fork or spoon (its meant to be eaten with bread)

Khachapuri—Georgian cheesy bread with egg. Eats with a knife and fork. (its meant to be eaten with the bread crust)

Smores pop tarts

Beef and potato stew

Rice bowl with fried egg and avocado, bonus points if it has bacon

Straight cookie dough/brownie/cake batter, usually when he's black out drunk and cannot shame himself out of eating raw egg products.

Deacon; Very childhood comfort food. Y'know, things you had as a kid, but probably grew out of a bit? Eats out of gas stations/takeout frequently. Very open flavor pallete, has tried everything he's had the chance to. Likes one-handed food, stuff you can have the other hand free for. Doesn’t really have a 'theme', has broad horizons for his diet. Likes lighter, mild flavors, though. He eats lightly and on the go a lot.

Hot/corn dogs, taste in hot dog toppings varies

Egg salad sandwiches

French fries and vanilla ice cream, classic combo

Mango sticky rice

Cornbread with any accompaniments. Likes honey or chili, thinks if you have a drink with cornbread, you ain't a real cornhead

Penne alla vodka

Cucumber salad. This could mean a salad with cucumbers, that trending Asian recipe where you cut the cumber so its springy, or eating a cucumber like a hotdog.

Fried mushrooms

Usually just drinks water but will have gator/powerade when he's working. Likes purple flavor

Captain crunch cereal, loves all cereal though. Prefers the kibble stuff to the berries. Starts philosophical debates about the morality of Trix commercials vs Lucky Charms commercials

Gage; His favorite foods reflect his upbringing. Coastal swamp cuisine, cheap and made in bulk. Take Danse's pallate and hyperlocalize it, and then lower the budget by a good amount. Things he grew up eating. Would gradually replace his favorites with pricier, 'less embarrassing' dishes, distances himself from his origins. However, takes care to not looked too loaded. Smokey and savory flavors are his thing, likes more spice than people expect.

Doberge cake, which is layered with pudding, often half-chocolate and half-lemon

Red beans and rice, with stewed pork if they could afford it

Blackened fish of any kind, liked it with cilantro-lime rice

Steak with potatoes and/or eggs

Chronic iced tea drinker like Curie, though he prefers the bitter kinds

Scallops

Brussels sprouts defender and will fight for their honor

Peaches

Was introduced to curry during a business meeting/outing. Could drink that shit from a glass, has it with potatoes and porkchops.

Lobster anything. This is one of those 'less embarresing' things, but he genuinely enjoys a good lobster roll. Even if he prefers a freshly-caught lobster bisque. Again, something he had growing up, something he pushes away.

Hancock; Similar to Deacon, but favors fatty, greasy food. No, it's not the drugs, that's just his metabolism. He's a skinny twink, always starving, can never put on weight. Eats as much as Danse, who is a big guy and needs more calories than most. He's really into street food and foreign dishes, won't eat at a restaurant if they speak fluent English or have good customer service. IYKYK. Very comfort food heavy, lots of "this would slap with Netflix at 2 am"

A classic oxtail, mac and cheese, and collard green take out combo

Any and all American-chinese take out, usually gets eggplant tofu with chow mein and cream cheese rangoons

"Walking tacos", those things where you open a small bag of chips and dump White People taco makings in. Probably just tips the whole thing into his mouth

Yakitori, Japanese chicken skewers, popular bar food

Bloody Mary cocktails

Pizza, will fight for the honor of pineapple. Would really be into how Brazil does pizza

Frozen yogurt and ice cream, piles with toppings

Breakfast sandwiches or wraps. Egg, meat, cheese, doesn't matter the time nor specifics.

Jam donuts, loves cherry fillings

Puppy chow/muddy buddies, chex cereal covered in chocolate and powdered sugar. Eats his weight in them if not careful

MacCready; forces himself to learn how to cook for Duncan's sake, but for himself...good God. It's horrible. Eats like garbage. Would never drink water if not to set an example. Take out, frozen food, so much candy and soda. After Duncan, broadens his horizons. Finds he really likes soups. Just throw shit in a pot and it works. Eats on a budget, so that's a life-saver. Doesn't have a preferred flavor pallete, aside from his love of candy.

Meat lover's pizza. Thinks pineapple has no place on pizza

Used to drink Mountain Dew and diet coke, replaced it with iced teas and more organic fruit juices for the sake of his teeth

Chicken soup, either from a can, or homemade. Either way, slaps. If homemade, blends veggies for a hidden veggie stock. For him, Duncan is a lot better at eating veggies, MacCready needs to trick himself.

Sour rainbow ropes

Cookie crisp cereal, thinks whoever came up with it deserved the sloppiest head. Incredible design, no notes

Cheese and sour cream chips

Famous Amos cookies

Eggo waffles

Gnocchi is God to him. Its superior to all noodles and makes your Shit In The Fridge soup 1000 times better.

Rice pudding is cheap, easy, and a surprisingly efficient sweet-tooth satisfier. Makes it with pumpkin spice mix or chocolate.

Nick; Home-cooked meals all the way. Could kill himself with cheese and die happy. Lots of easy meals and snacking so he can keep working, but will treat himself to a nice, hard-earned dinner when he has the time and energy. Likes himself the smokey, the fresh, or the sour. Probably knows all the best sub shops in the city, probably in a turf war with regulars of rival shops. Jewish delicatessens are like church to him.

Lasanga. Most of his freezer space is lasagna. Eats so much of it. He's lactose intolerant. It hurts but it hurts so good

Latkes. Fried potato things, kind of like hashbrowns, except the potato is mashed/ground instead of grated. And yes. Also pastrami. But those little potato bitches...mmmph.

Red velvet muffins with cream cheese frosting.

Fried cheese in any capacity

A prosciutto, arugula, brie, and fig sandwich

Pickled pearl onions

Cobb salad

Black coffee. Temp doesn't matter, because he's going to forget it until its room temp.

Has been known to enter fugue states and consume an absurd amount of Chicago style hot dogs

Scones or just plain bread with butter and jams

Piper; Broke college student trying to make it as a reporter. Her tastebuds are fucked, they salivate not for flavor, or texture, but for those good, good low prices. Piper's diet is almost entirely snackfood or takeout. If she ever cooks, it's for Nat. But when taking care of just herself, Piper eats from a box or bag. When she does cook, it's very simple meals. Loves her carbs and her fruit flavors

Chicken Ramen with canned chicken and frozen broccoli chucked in. Also makes this for Nat

Hot cheetos, eats with chopsticks

Spaghetti and meatballs

Fruit smoothies/smoothie bowls, blends in veggies as well for the nutrition

Coka cola and anything from Fanta, loves fruit sodas

Anything carbs and I mean that. Eats a lot of bread, pasta, cakes, potatoes...they're the sweetheart of anyone on a budget.

Buffalo cauliflower, likes it more than Buffalo chicken

Chewing gum. Fruit flavors only, hates mint gum. Likes mint elsewhere, just not in gum.

Nickle-nips and other "jelly/juice in a wax package" candies. Likes the charm of it, also, free chewing wax

Suckers/lollipops, big on hard candy in general but the stick satisfies her smoking habit.

Preston; A mix of easy depression/bulk meals and dishes from his childhood. Lots of spices, cooks with a lot of straight peppers. Tends to eat his food 'raw', not made into a dish. Again, easy and quick to eat. Also tends to buy pre-prepared stuff for the same reason, buys more fruits and veggies and just eats them straight. Doesn't care about eating healthy, he just lacks energy to cook most days.

I have no choice to explain this as it has no name. Casserole dish, layer of mashed potatoes, layer of shredded or chunked chicken, layer of white breakfast gravy or brown poultry gravy, top with drop biscuits. It's buttery, its savory, it is white as snow. Easy, cheap, one ladlefull is dinner. You'll get a few meals out of it, and it's so filling you have like, five minutes before you're stuffed. I call it gut-glue.

Dirty rice

Eggs scrambled with spinach

Jollof/jambalaya

Veggies and hummus or ranch

Various fruits and berries such as grapes, cherries, blackberries, and oranges

Shakshouka, eggs poached in spicy tomato sauce and eaten with bread

Chicken biscuits, crackers dusted with, like, chicken bouillon? They taste like a chicken Ramen packet sneezed on a ritz

Slurpees/Icees/those syruped gas station ice drinks

Straight peppers, eats bell peppers like apples. Eats pickled jalapeños and scotch bonnets to feel something. Drinks the liquid in pickle jars instead of alcohol, or mixes it with gelatin and makes pickle jello.

X6-88; Pretensious rich asshole who eats like it. He rarely cooks for himself, probably has a personal chef or something. Maybe his work has their own restaurants, like Google. Eats mostly vegetables, but his favorite foods skew from "Dubai Influencer" to "12 year old who earned too much lawn mowing money and was let loose in a convenience store." So much sugar. Willy Wonka's factory is his idea of heaven and until it exists, he's an atheist.

Raw meats. Steak and tuna tartar, sashimi, and sushi

Braised duck with cherries

Nduja, a spicy pork sausage spread, has it with flatbreads

Oysters. Eats them all fancy in public, eats them from a tin with doritos at home

Anything from Hostess, Little Debbie, those brands. Fucking anything. However, would kill a man for any kind of Swiss roll

Chocolate milk

Gummies, very picky with brands, hates the harder kinds like Haribo. Wants his gummies soft as a marshmellow

Cadbury eggs

Milano dark chocolate cookies

Gushers

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #piper wright #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #porter gage

99 notes · View notes

lovesosweeet · 16 days

Text

better left unsaid // cth

chapter forty six

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters // read on AO3

january 22, 2019 madrid, spain orion

The flight to Madrid feels like it takes forever. I’m excited to go back, and based on how much Calum is checking his email, he must have a lot of things planned for us. I wish he didn’t, because I doubt I’ll be able to do more than a few things each day. I’m just too tired.

My doctors connected me with a hospital and a doctor in the city just in case I need to see one. They’ve got my records and everything and, while I can speak Spanish, Calum can’t, so we made sure to choose a facility with translators and bilingual staff. I doubt we will need to, since the past few months have been fairly uneventful. I just feel like shit, but nothing is changing.

We both have had to wear face masks from the moment we left for the airport, which feels silly, but Dr. Gupta said that if I’m in any kind of high traffic area, it’s vital that I do my best to protect myself. Although, it is a bit helpful for camouflaging Calum. With half his face covered and a hat on his head, you can barely tell him apart from another man of his height with brown hair.

Ilse and Giuseppe are flying in to Madrijd later on in the week to see us, and I’m so excited to get to see them, along with the other girls. I’m sad that we won’t get to do a lot of the things that we used to. We can’t go out anywhere to do pretty much anything. I’m really grateful to be here, but I don’t feel like Calum will be able to do anything here that we wouldn’t do at home.

Since we won’t be taking the metro, in an effort to keep me away from germs and sickness, Calum is renting a car here, so we’ll be able to drive around to everything. For his birthday, we’ll be driving to Valencia for a night so we can see the beach here.

When we land, Calum makes me pose under the “Bienvenidos a Madrid” sign, and I hope I don’t look as tired as I am in the photo. I’m trying not to act like it, but I really just want to go to sleep. We came all this way, and all I really want to do is hole up in our hotel room.

“Want to stop somewhere for some tapas and a glass of tinto?” Calum asks when we get our bags into the rental car and take our seats.

I look over at him. He has excitement written all over his face. His brown eyes are gold and sparkling, his smile endearing, and I can’t say no. “Sure, sounds good.”

I do my best to smile. I want him to enjoy this trip. It’s for his birthday, after all. I can’t ruin it by being too tired to do anything, so I swallow the feeling of wanting to go straight to the hotel and try to take in Madrid as we enter the city. In my heart, it feels so good to be back.

We get to a small bar in La Latina that has a patio and Calum can’t stop smiling while we sit at the small metal table. He reads over the menu, even though he undoubtedly already knows what we’ll order and can barely understand the rest of what he sees.

“So, I was thinking,” he starts, reaching across the table to grab my hand. “Oh, wow, your hand is freezing!”

He holds both of them now, rubbing them to try to warm them up. I smile at his sweetness, but raise my eyebrows for him to continue.

“We get some food, head to the hotel and take a nap, and then we can go to a convenience store to get some wine and stuff and then we can head to Retiro to watch the sunset?”

I nod. “Yeah, sounds perfect.”

He has me order for us when the waiter comes since my Spanish is far better than his. They bring us our drinks and food quickly, and Calum is taking on my role as obsessive photographer and says he needs photos of everything. He even makes me ask the server to take a picture of the two of us, something he has never done before in his life.

With Calum watching on, I do my best to sip from my jarra of tinto and eat a few of the fried potatoes he ordered for me. It’s obvious that I can’t stomach much, though, and it makes me feel bad. I feel bad physically, obviously, but I’m already worried about how this whole trip will go. I’m not going to be a fun partner.

“Lucia and Paula said they’re up for breakfast tomorrow,” Calum says, breaking my staring contest with my patatas bravas when I look up at him instantly.

I smile. “Cool, that will be great, Cal.”

He smiles back and nods before he pulls out his phone and types something in. When it’s face down on the table again, he looks straight back at me. “I know you may not be able to do much while we’re here. I know you’ve been really tired and sick for a while, so please just tell me if you ever need a break or anything, okay? Don’t over exert yourself. We’re here to do whatever you want to do.”

For some reason, that makes my heart drop.

“We’re here for your birthday, Cal,” I say. My tone is quiet. He just said what I should want to hear, but I don’t feel any better after he’s said it.

I want him to look back on this trip fondly. This is one of our last things we’ll ever do together possibly. After everything I’ve put him through, can I ruin this, too?

“I’ll have other birthdays,” he says.

My stomach lurches. I could throw up.

He realizes what he’s said, and I practically watch his mouth dry and the gears in his brain whir. I know he has no idea what to say, and I don’t expect him to. He’s not wrong. He will have other birthdays. He will have almost an entire lifetime of birthdays after this.

Without me.

I sigh, clear my throat, and refrain from crying.

“I know.”

next part

a/n: hi !!!!!!! lil baby update. ty for your patience as I've taken a break from BLU! check out the other two shorter fics I've written in the meantime if you'd like! they're both very different from BLU and each other but are only 10 parts each and ofc about cal. check my masterlist here if you need some new material :)

#it's my birthday so my bday gift to u all is a glimpse at the rest of BLU #5sos #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #calum hood #fanfiction #5sosfam #imagine #fanfic #michael clifford #calum 5sos #calum fanfic #calum fic #calum x ofc #calum x fem!oc #better left unsaid

8 notes · View notes