#i feel like he likes sweets and chewy texture

[jrueships]

If Alpey and Jaba got ice cream together, which flavours do you think they’d choose? 🤔🍨🍨

From the way Jabari acts, some people would mistake him to be a pretty boring guy when it comes to tastes in food. He's a creature of comfort who, if uncomfortable, will battle and yell with all the ferocity of a territorial lemming to regain it. However, some people tend to oversee that comfort and luxury can come hand in hand. Jabari is not the man who will play it safe, he will squint at the ice cream's menu and carefully select one of the most obscure options ever after conducting some serious research either beforehand or during the process. This research includes asking the employees what they think of the dessert. Even if there's a line of hungry kids and their late to work parents waiting behind him, Jabari will hush the ground so he can calculate All the options to come to a stable conclusion that Yes, this Is, in fact, The Best choice of item to spend my money on. He probably likes combinations, like an upside down banana split or something odd like that. If he's buying ice cream at a place that's stabilized itself by making good ice cream, it can't just be any ice cream he can just buy at a store then. It has to be THEIR SPECIAL ice cream. He's here for luxury and specifics, whatever the ice cream store says they can do the best, like, actually do in terms of making it, sprucing it up with syrups and fruits, and decorating it all nice and different, mixing it, etc, he'll buy it. I feel like he'd be one of those people that buys those really fancy overloaded ice cream shakes where there's like syrup or crumbs decorating the outside of the cup like sugar on an alcoholic beverage and there's a brownie bar on top for extra extra appearance appeal.

Meanwhile, alpey just wants some Dondurma, which is a Turkish ice cream notable for its hard texture and melt resistance, so he brings his own special knife and fork sets, one for him, one for jaba so they can cut into their ice cream bricks :] !! He's fond of the sweeter flavors, but they can't be artifical. ... sadly, there is no delicious Dondurma, and the ice cream just melts and slips between the slits of his special fork with much despair and pity. His ice cream lacks the sweetness and realness he desires, and they have no honey !!!! It's not stretchy or chewy at all! the texture is almost nothing !!!

It's okay, though, because Jabari orders him something special off the menu, an ornate mixture of various fruits and syrups and decorative pizzazz that they both end up using their forks to eat it. The creature of luxury cannot stand to see his fellow critter in need lack his own creaturely comforts. Before Jabari orders Alpey a new unique ice cream, he coaxes (demands) alpey to try a spoo-forkful of the carefully considered dessert of Jabari's choosing. Once he can tell Alpey likes Jabari's ice cream more than the simple and safe one he chose, Jabari buys Alpey something similar but with more sweetness. Cue another hour long research session that makes the poor teenagers groan as they watch their line grow longer and longer behind the happy couple(?) clinging onto their weird little forks instead of spoons.

#i think jabari and alpey are a strange mix of picky and also ill eat whatever x likes #jabari wants high quality recommendations #hes open to options... but they have to be Good #and you have to be reliable or confident when offering them or else he'll shake his head and close down on you for even trying #when clearly #youre not ready to help his precise culinary demands #alpey is more like.. i eat what i like and what i dont like.. i dont eat <3 #i feel like he likes sweets and chewy texture #but if it's too chewy that it becomes a chore to eat #he stops and puts away the rest as leftovers #meanwhile jabari buys with the purpose of not having any leftovers #he wants something that will clean his plate at the end #he'll only take desserts so he can try to replicate the recipe at home since he loves it so much #alpey is too lazy for that #bro just wants ice cream 😭 #but it also needs to be ice cream he likes !!! #he likes the ice cream his family would have! #... he does not have that here #it's ok tho bcs jabari is very interested in learning new things especially in food and sports so maybe #one day he'll surprise alpey with some jaba made alpey ice cream #!!! #ted asks #HOW CUTE! I LOVED THIS ASK! I LOVE THE GUNSMITH PROPAGANDA SPREADING!!! IT'S SO CUTE #alpey #jaba #theyre so puppykitten love to me

[kcrossvine-art]

hi friends! :D y'all voted and fought neck and neck for this SO- heres the first entry into our little cooking journey of J. R. R. Tolkeins fictional food for his fictional little guys he puts in fictional turmoils for our enjoyment and awe!

 Before we get started i wanna say i owe my heart to all the LotR fans who upkeep the wiki, debate the cannon, and create their own versions of the foods mentioned. Both because of my love for people who LOVE (passionate people)(passion about anything) and because my own knowledge of this series is a little dusty. I've never seen the movies but I did read the books growing up. I'll be learning and remembering things from a fairly newbie standpoint, so no worries if you yourself arent familiar with the series! (and if you are familiar, hopefully youll forgive me!)

We will be making Lembas ('waybread') today! If you've made your own version of this please feel free to share it, similarly if you have any ideas for what we make next!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to Lembas?” YOU MIGHT ASKWell so the funny thing is we kinda dont know. At least not entirely? The elves are dicks like that. But heres what we'll be using in ours-

Butter

Self-rising flour

Granulated Sugar

Raisins

A small dried fruit of your choosing

Almonds OR Pecans

EGG

Whole Milk

Heavy Cream

And if you would like for dipping-

Blackberry jam

To the extent i understand this is kinda like hardtack from the bri'ish military, but a fantastical version of it that actually tastes really good. Hardtack was a military provision with the texture of a brick that took a long time to spoil and could be easily carried with soldiers. So the texture we're going for is super dense, packed full with nuts and fruits (haha just lik-), but perhaps not that dense. We want something closer to a dog biscuit than actual tack.

I remembered something about corn being mentioned, thankfully the wiki clarified that no actually the british just referred to any grain as corn back in the day. Thank Fuck! Although I would like to try a version of this using masa in the future.

AND, “what does Lembas taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Took a few tries but eventually got it perfectly chewy and dense

The raisins cook-in like little beads of flavortown sweetness

Cant speak for other fruits but for dried apple it softened up nicely, kinda matching the raisins in the end

Im a big pecan slut, pecans fuck on anything especially here. Crumble them on top after you coat the dough with the egg-mixture for some visual appeal

Somewhat flakey outside

The jam was my idea, it was nice but might be too sweet for some tastes

Would pair very well with a kiwi flavored drink

Or mead

I can see why this would a travelling provision. Its both sugary (a good thing when expending energy) and filling (also a good thing when youre travelling) while not being overwhelming with flavor (if youre prone to motion sickness. Horse sickness? Do get motion sickness on horses?)

Its like how if you're going hiking you want a good mix of sugars and salts, to balance your intake of water.

. If you wanna make it like the illustrations or the movie, use a cookie cutter for either triangles or squares . If you don't have a cookie cutter, an apple cutter also works ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . try to keep the board you'll roll the dough out onto chilled before you use it, it seems better for the texture of the food though i dont entirely know why

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So from beginning to end, it took about an hour and half for the first attempt. Down to about 40 minutes for the second attempt. These are a real simple recipe because its not like a croissant where the margin for error is nonexistent. Middle-earth be damned my boy can work a grill.

I'd recommend storing in a tubberware container, but if you're deadset on using leaves please rinse and dry them first, and wrap the bread in either wax paper or saran wrap underneath. We dont have mallorn leaves in real life (as far as we know) but most salad greens should work, or as Marie Porter says (linked in the reblogs!) a banana leaf.

I really enjoyed the process of making this recipe, itd be really easy to batch-bake these en masse, and the process of eating said recipe. Like all jokes aside, i think this would be a great substitute for trailmix. Its not going to get smushed and even if it breaks a bit it wont affect the taste. It wont keep you fed for a whole day but pair it with some pickles or a salty snack and yeah itll keep your motor running.

I give this recipe a solid 10/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Let me know if you think I got something wrong, or if you ran into issues with the recipe. We're off to a strong start, lads!

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

6 TBSP butter, chilled

2 cups self-rising flour

1 TBSP granulated sugar

½ cup raisins

½ other dried fruit (strawberry slices, oranges, etc.), chopped

Handful of almonds or pecans, chopped

1 egg, well beaten

½ cup whole milk

4 TBSP heavy cream

Method:

Preheat your oven to 400 f.

Cut the butter into slivers/small pieces. With your hands, combine the butter into the flour in a mixing bowl until the mixture resembles coarse sand.

Chop your dried nuts and dried fruit until it feels right.

Mix in the sugar, raisins, nut, and dried fruit of your choosing

In a seperate bowl, beat the egg until combined, and then mix in the milk until combined. Keep a bit of this mixture to brush the tops of the bread.

Stir while adding the egg/milk mixture and the heavy cream into the flour. Mix just until combined into a soft dough.

Knead the dough until firm on a floured surface.

Roll into a half inch thickness and cut with a square or leaf shaped cookie cutter. (...or in my case, an apple corer).

Place on a lightly greased baking sheet, with about an inch of space between each piece. Brush the tops of the lembas with some of the mixture you saved earlier.

Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until it turns a soft gold and the inside is chewy.

#cross cooks lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #lotr art

[in-class-daydreams]

Dear Husband (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian Sallow x Pregnant!Fem!Reader Synopsis: Pregnancy hormones have done something to your brain and you just can't get out of your husband's business. You're far past clingy at this point and your sweet husband is taking it like a champ. Alternatively: Preggy Brain Go Brrr TW: Slightly suggestive, but barely. Like on the spice scale, it's mayonnaise with a dash of paprika.

You have a big fat crush on your husband.

Yes, yes, he’s your husband, of course you have strong feelings for him, and you’d already developed a crush on him back at Hogwarts about three days into your fifth year. Obviously, that tingly feeling eventually developed into love, but this was different. You’ve long since fallen for him, but since he got you pregnant, you were just obsessed with the man.

Sebastian originally wanted to take more days off from the ministry due to you being with child, but you insisted that you were still three months out and didn’t need his constant presence just yet.. Though, you were beginning to regret that statement as you reclined on the couch, eating from the box of licorice spiders resting on your protruding stomach. If Baby Sallow was going to make you carry them, you figured you’re well within your rights to use them as a table. Licorice spiders were never your favorite, but your pregnancy made you crave the oddest of things, the licorice being one of them. And your sweet husband never complained about you decimating his stash of his favorite candy, not once.

Currently, your husband was busy in the kitchen cooking you breakfast before he went to work. His black dress shirt had the sleeves rolled up and his hair was only a bit more styled than he used to wear it as a student. You stuffed a handful of candy in your mouth and savored the chewy texture. Then you wondered to yourself if your child will look like him. They better not, if they’re going to make you round and make you push them out of your nethers. Then again, your husband is just so handsome you wouldn’t mind having a copy of him running around, but the problem is how you’d ever say no to either of them. It’s a dilemma to be sure.

“Are you comfortable, darling?” Sebastian asks. “I can bring more pillows from the bedroom if you’d like.”

You shake your head. He dotes on you plenty and while you’re quite sizable, you’d hardly consider yourself burdened with child just yet.

“Could you put the potatoes on the counter, please?” You rub your belly. “I don’t want to have to bend down for them later.”

“Of course.” Sebastian bends down and hoists the heavy bag onto the counter.

Confession time. You don’t have that problem at all. You are both a powerful witch and an ancient magic wielder, so you are more than capable of levitating as much as your entire house above your head. But if you did that, how could you watch your husband’s shirt tighten around his biceps?

You bite your lip watching him play both roles. Dressed as a breadwinner but doing domestic tasks. Cooking for you, making your shared bed, massaging your legs after dinner. You’d never admit this, but it’s empowering to have one of the most talented Aurors the ministry has ever seen at your beck and call.

That last thought is the final straw. You can’t take it any more. While his back is turned, you heft yourself up and approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his midsection. You bury your face in his back and nuzzle him like a cat.

“Hello to you, too,” Sebastian chuckles, moving to turn to face you, but you hold him still.

His scent is intoxicating, a mix of your laundry detergent, a little woodsmoke, and something else uniquely him. You used to wear his Slytherin jumper back in the day for his quidditch matches, and you’d bury your face in the sleeves when no one was looking.

Speaking of quidditch, Sebastian is a few years removed from the sport considering his busy career since graduation, but Imelda’s rigorous training regimen withstood the test of time in the form of your husband’s thick forearms and broad shoulders.

You run your hands from his toned stomach, up his sides, and over his pecs before retracing your pattern down to thick thighs in tight slacks. His line of work made it necessary for him to keep in shape and you thanked every being in existence for that.

Sebastian puts a hand over yours when you start tugging his tucked shirt out of his waistband.

“Keep that up and you’ll be having burnt toast for breakfast,” he warns.

You whine, shaking off his hand and digging your fingers under his shirt to trace the warm skin across his hips.

“What if I have a different meal in mind this morning?” You press yourself against him, to which his breath hitches and he shuts off the stove. He spins around in your arms and tries to say something only for you to plant kisses up and down his jaw and down the slope of his neck. Sebastian’s head tips back and he groans under your touch and you smile against his neck. He’s been weak to you for as long as you’ve known him, give or take a few days.

But when you undo a button of his waistcoat, he makes a strangled sound and stops you, breathing quickly.

“Believe me, I want this desperately, but I can’t be late today,” he says like it physically pains him.

You rest your head on his chest and look up at him with the trained doe eyes you use to get your way. What are you supposed to do? Let him leave the house looking like that without you getting your fill of him? Preposterous.

Sebastian looks towards the ceiling as if he was asking a deity for strength to deny you. Granted, that’s what it would take at this point, but when he looks back down at you with resolve, you wonder if it really is divine intervention or if you’re just losing your touch.

“Please, love, I need to compare notes with my temporary partner. She won’t like it if I’m late,” he reasons.

You pout. “Ominis would understand.”

“Yes, but only because he’s fond of you. If I was married to anyone else, he’d give me an earful for being late. Besides, he won’t be back for another few weeks.” Sebastian turns back to the stove and plates your food before handing it to you.

You take it reluctantly and grumble. “Stupid Ominis. Stupid Turkish dark wizard.”

Sebastian smiles and gives you a gentle kiss on the lips. Then he bends at the waist and gives your bump a kiss as well.

“He’ll be back soon and then you can distract me before work as you please.” The thought is enough to placate you for the moment.

“Will you be in the office around noon? I’ll make you lunch,” you offer.

He confirms with another kiss. “I’ll see you then.”

Sebastian shrugs on his coat while you marvel at his delicious shoulder to hip ratio. If he wasn’t so prodigal with Auror work, he’d have made a fantastic model, you think. That would be a disaster in its own right, though, because the last thing you need is even more people oogling your husband.

On his way out the door, Sebastian looks at you over his shoulder and says, “But if you come by, we can’t shag in my office.”

Your jaw drops to the floor and you gasp in indignation.

“What! Why not?” you demand.

Sebastian sighs. “Because Baby Sallow makes it hard for me to bend you over the desk and, frankly, you’re not exactly quiet.”

“I’ll be quiet! I promise!” The thought of not getting your hands all over your husband until after his workday ended was turning your brain into mush. How on Earth could you survive that long? You nearly tear up at the idea. Ah, this must be the phase of pregnancy where your emotions are all over the place.

Sebastian closes the distance between you, laughing. “Wait a bit longer, and you won’t have to be quiet.” He whispers in your ear, “When I get home, I’ll make sure you can't be quiet if you try.”

At that, you shove him up against the door and kiss him senseless until he’s flushed and has to adjust himself in his pants before finally leaving for work.

~~

The next time Sebastian works from home, he’s at the dining table pouring over several thick files of documents. This was the type of work he was amazing at. Growing up with professors for parents and a natural love for reading (even if that love caused some issues back in the day) made him an excellent investigator and you so loved watching him work.

You dip a slice of green apple into your cup of molasses and take a bite. It was certainly? A flavor? But your pregnant body demanded it and so apples and molasses it would be.

“But the bank account was clean…” Sebastian mutters to himself.

You lean against the counter, head resting in your free hand like a blushing schoolgirl. You bite the tip of your thumbnail as you admire the man who mastered the Dark Arts by the end of sixth year. Sure, he was an Auror now and used his expertise for good, but it was even more impressive that he was so close to the point of no return and was able to pull himself back from the brink. He liked to say it was your love for him that brought him back, but you always replied that you only helped him find the strength he had all along.

“You’re staring.” 

You hum in pleasure at the sound of his deep voice. He has the same accent as most of the people around you, but his just makes you want to kick your feet and squeal.

“You’re so handsome,” you say dreamily.

Sebastian’s ears turn slightly pink. “Oh, well, I’m glad you think so. Thank you.”

You bite your lip. “I want to marry you.”

He barks out a surprised laugh, glancing at the gold band on his left ring finger. “I have good news for you.”

“I’d marry you a second time.”

Sebastian puts down the document he’s holding and eyes you.

“And a third.” You get up and make your way over to him to wrap your arms around his neck. Sebastian takes you in his arms as you continue. “Look at this face.” You trace constellations in his freckles with your eyes. “So handsome. Do you have any idea,” you gripe, “how many of our classmates would have done anything to have a chance with you?”

Swaying you both from side to side, Sebastian says, “Can’t say I recall. I was quite busy during my fifth year and on. Someone decided they wanted all my attention to themselves.” He kisses your nose.

“When quidditch season started back up in sixth year, it was impossible. You were walking around, getting bulkier by the day, wearing that damned uniform.” Tracing a finger up his chest, you continue to complain. “And I was just supposed to go on with my day and focus on lessons while the other girls were talking about how big and strong you’d gotten over the summer? Completely unfair.”

Sebastian grew several inches over the course of a few months and his development was not gradual. No, he went from boy to man almost overnight, and that, combined with his charming nature and sharp wit, made him a hot commodity sixth year and on.

Since being married to him, you’ve realized that what you saw at Hogwarts was nothing compared to what he would become. He was a cutie when you met him, and grew frustratingly attractive over the next few years, but Auror Sebastian? Your husband? He was outright handsome.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask sweetly, to which Sebastian immediately agrees. He’s never really been able to say no to you, has he?

“But it’s just a paper trail. Terribly dull without context,” he warns.

You nod your head in understanding. All you want is to be near him. When you move to the other side of the table to pull over a chair, he stops you and pulls out his wand. From there he shifts around the furniture so that the sofa is right next to the table so you can lounge near him.

“I love you, Seb.”

“And I, you.”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy imagines #sebastian x mc

[juuuulez]

📰 | part six: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, mentions of past abuse, six chapters in and we are FINALLY getting the tiniest hint of romantic feelings, (y/n) and Judith being cute, more Father!Negan.

summary: You, Carl and Negan cook spaghetti. Annnnndddd that’s about it.

Okay this one is short but also lowkey sweet but also sad…….I just think that Carl in this episode was soooooo cute and malewife I want him so bad.

The trip to Alexandria was uncomfortable.

You essentially ignored Carl the entire way, though he figured that was better than the yelling and scolding. That, and you also hadn’t made Negan aware of the little tirade that occurred in your bedroom, to which he was equally thankful.

Subverting back into your precious attitude, cold and annoyed, you followed both Negan and Carl through Alexandria. It was obvious that you weren’t exactly paying attention, mind elsewhere, mentally preoccupied.

Nonetheless, you shot Negan a little glare when he made Olivia cry, clearly unimpressed at the blatant disregard for her emotions. Still, he only grinned, parading you both back to the Grimes’ household.

It was slightly irritating, when Negan would get like this. Trying to prove a point, whilst ignoring the problem at hand. What most perceived as a good mood, you knew it wasn’t exactly genuine, and with your own dwindling patience there was nothing more you wanted than to leave here, and go home.

Have a bath, maybe. Read your book.

But your frustrations are mirrored within Carl, whomst Negan finds some entertainment in agitating. So, he sticks around. Cooks. Engages the teenage boy in any meaningless activity, simply to get a rise from him, and likely a rise from his father later.

Though… you took some satisfaction from the grumpy look on Carl’s face, forced to wear an apron and roll out pasta. His hair looked much nicer without that stupid hat, and the bandage being gone let you see the true expanse of his pale skin.

Get it together.

However, you were oblivious to the similar light that Carl was beginning to view you in. Each time you’d help out, you would brush the flour off onto the back of your dark jeans, leaving white, dusty handprints on your ass. Without the jacket, Carl could even notice the little blemishes along your arms, some scars mostly faded, others jagged and raised.

As Carl rolled out the pasta, you’d pick little bits off the edges, chewing on the raw dough. It didn’t taste the best, but you were hungry, and it had a nice texture that made you want to go back for more.

“Stop eatin’ that,” Negan scolds, having caught you going back for your third helping of uncooked pasta. “Raw eggs, doll. You’ll get salmonella.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a myth.” You retort, words muffled around the chewy mass in your mouth, letting it melt onto your tongue. When you reach down for more, Carl swats your hand away with the rolling pin, to which you give him the finger and depart.

After all, you’re still not too pleased about the whole ‘trying to shoot you’ situation. Now, he’s denying you sustenance, in the form of raw pasta dough.

Whatever.

You settle down on the couch, laying back with a huff, staring at the roof. It was times like these where you began to question everything. Like, was it really worth it? Yes, it was, because you were guaranteed safety in this unpredictable world. But, God, if it didn’t get lonely. Salvage often came in small moments of banter with Carl, but he essentially wanted you dead, which certainly helped diminish your enjoyment.

“Why don’t ya’ go wake Judith.” Negan suggests, which garners the attention of both yourself and Carl. You sit up on the couch, brows furrowed whilst you contemplate the notion.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You mumble, still sounding dejected, which spikes Carl’s curiosity. What he would give to know what’s going on inside your head.

Yet, Negan perseveres, still trying to push you out of this slump. “Well, I think it’s a great idea. Could do you some good, doll.”

Not willing to air out all your dirty laundry here, in Alexandria, in front of Carl, you obey. That’s not without a sigh of discontent as you rise from the couch, making it known that you’d rather do anything but.

It doesn’t take you long to find where Judith is sleeping. Or, was sleeping, as the toddler now stands up against the bars, watching the door curiously for whoever has come for her. You bite your lip, standing there awkwardly.

“Hey, there..” You mumble, reaching into the bassinet to pull the girl into your hold, where Judith is quick to wrap her chubby little arms around your neck. “Want some food, beautiful girl? Yeah, that’s right. You’re so pretty.”

You absentmindedly whisper at the toddler, jostling her slightly as you make your way back to the living room.

Okay.. maybe this is kinda good. It’s managed to pull your mind from that dark place, if only momentarily. However, you can’t help but feel a little envious.

You’d give anything for your own sister to be alive right now. Though, at the same time, you felt at peace with the fact that she never had to experience a world of violence and undead.

But maybe hadn’t she died, and hadn’t your mother passed during childbirth, your own life may have ended up differently. No abuse, no guilt. You’d have been a normal kid, with a normal family, and a beautiful little sister.

Too late for that one now.

You sit down on the couch, Judith in your lap. She watches over your shoulder curiously, quietly, whilst your fingers gently rake through her blonde curls. “Such a good girl.” You coo, enjoying the way her big eyes stare up at you whenever you speak.

How could one ever hurt a child? You’d have to be sick. Fucked up. Scum like that deserved to die, or better, suffer.

When Carl walks past the couch, Judith perks up. Her little hands extend, reaching out for her brother, trying to get his attention. Though somber, you smile, shifting a little to help lift Judith upwards and into Carl’s hold.

Seeing the siblings interact causes something to wash over you. It’s there before you can decipher the emotion, and in order to disguise it, you’re quick to leave the house.

The summer’s air is fresh against your skin, warming your arms, legs, face. You blink three, five times, before pressing your palms firmly against closed eyelids. This will not be where you break. Sure, you could have a meltdown at home, locked away in your bedroom. But not here. Not where you were supposed to be a ruthless leader.

You take a moment to compose yourself, pulling your mind away from the past, and back to the present. Now. Where you were supposed to be teaching Carl a lesson, teaching Rick a lesson. The whole of Alexandria.

Rows and rows of houses stand before you, all with their same white picket fences, clean porches. You envy this lifestyle, to some degree, but also know that it’s unnatural. Everybody has that demons, you just need to hide yours better.

The door behind you opens with a slight creek, and you quickly wipe your wet palms against your jeans, which are already soiled with flour.

“You alright?”

Carl is standing there, in the doorway. He must have suspected that something was wrong, and couldn’t just mind his own damn business. For this, you shoot him that same spiteful glare, though he recognises that you’ve returned to not quite looking at him, either letting your gaze fall onto his forehead or shoulder.

“None of your business,” You sneer, pushing past Carl in order to enter the house once more, mentally putting your walls back up. “Haven’t you got chores to do, housewife?”

This causes Carl to frown, looking down at the apron he’s still wearing. He’d forgotten it was there, but now fumbles behind him to untie the fabric, abandoning it over a stool in the kitchen. He’d wash it up later.

For whatever reason, he persists, following a few paces behind you.

“It wasn’t about you,” He begins speaking, though you fail to catch on right away. “I think… I wanted to shoot you to prove something to me, not to you.”

This again?

You just wanted to forget about it, at this point. The longer you stewed on the brush with death, the worse you felt. Well.. if you could even call it a brush with death, for you’d known the gun was unloaded.

But if it was loaded, would you have still taunted him like that? Probably.

Maybe you secretly liked how Carl fed into your violent tendencies, those inhumane wants and needs. Yearning for something carnal.

“Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” You say dismissively, just wanting the conversation over with. Luckily enough, Carl seems to drop it.

As the mismatched family sat down to eat, you could feel Carl staring at you, burning a hole into your skull.

You ignored him in favour of eating.

In fact, you ignored him for the rest of the day.

But that night, when you returned home, everything you’d pushed away just came flooding back.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #negan smith x reader #twd x you #carl grimes x you #negan smith

[20cmstar]

sweeter than honey ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

pairing: felix x reader type: fluff warnings: none ◡̈ word count: 835

Your shared home was filled with a warm, softly sweet bread-like scent as leftover faint traces of flour and sugar dusted the tabletop. You quietly watched as your boyfriend, Felix, moved with effortless elegance about the kitchen, completely mesmerized by the way his silhouette flowed. He seemed to be walking on air, his footwork fluid and coordinated as he retrieved ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry. His brows wrinkled in concentration as he carefully measured each ingredient, looking at the instructions on his phone as he added a few of his own unique touches here and there to make it special. He would occasionally mumble, his baritone voice soft and low, as if though mentally synchronizing the recipe’s steps to ensure a flawless batter. He was so focused that you dared not interrupt him since you found it extremely endearing and touching how his brows furrowed together in concentration. Whenever he suggested testing out a new pancake recipe he discovered online, you were excited to try it. In fact, you didn't need much persuasion after observing his opulent eyes gleam with initiative and enthusiasm pooling like stars in dark brown cosmos.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help, my love?” You inquired while feeling little guilty about watching from the sidelines as he performed all the work. A rush of butterflies flitted madly in the pit of your stomach as his soothing chuckle stroked your ears. You felt like you would melt with each passing minute as he stared at you with a special tenderness in his gaze. “Yes, sunshine, I’m sure.” Felix replied, and he kissed your left temple quickly and reassuringly while stooping over the counter. You felt a tingling sensation where his lips had once been, and your cheeks warmed and adopted a subtle scarlet hue. Your chest began to fill with an incredible amount of love and admiration for the man as a gentle smile pulled at the corners of your lips. Regardless of how long you'd been together, the man's words and actions always left you virtually breathless and flustered. How you ever got so blessed to have such a considerate man with a pure, loving heart baffled you, and all you could hope was that he felt just as cherished and adored by the love and care you offered him daily. “What makes this pancake recipe different than the others we have tried, Lix?” You queried, curiously inspecting the batter in the bowl for any significant changes, but it appeared to be the same as before. Felix watched as your face twisted into one of perplexity and let out another small chuckle. “I have to fold bits of honeycomb into the batter for this recipe.”

Your interest peaked as you saw him take the ingredient from the refrigerator. You leaned forward to get a closer look as he placed the glass jar on the counter and started to twist the brightly decorated top. “Does it taste like normal honey?” Your lips were pursed as you hummed and fought the impulse to dip your finger in the syrup that covered the comb. Felix shrugged, indicating he was just as fascinated as you were because he had never actually had raw honeycomb before. “I'm not sure, but why don't we give it a shot together?" He suggested sweetly gathering two spoons and dipping them each into the top layer of the honeycomb and the syrup surrounding it. You both lifted your spoons to your mouths simultaneously, taking the first bite. It had a honey flavor, and the honeycomb itself provided a subtle, sweet flavor that wasn't overbearing or harsh. You were honestly surprised by how refreshingly sweet it was despite the initially chewy texture. You eagerly eyed your boyfriend to see what he thought of it. He seemed equally surprised as you were. You found yourself dipping your spoon back into the jar for another taste. “This is so good, Lix! I like how sweet it is. The pancakes you're baking will go perfectly with it.” You chimed, praising him for discovering a delicious new recipe.

Warm fingers delicately cradled your chin before you could get your spoon to your mouth. Felix leaned forward and kissed you tenderly, the honeycomb’s traces still traceable on his lips’ velvety surface. Though taken aback at first, you quickly returned his expression of affection. You pouted and chased for his lips to give you another kiss when you parted ways. He laughed, though, and cradled our face with his warm hands. He gently rubbed his nose against yours as his thumbs caressed the skin on your cheeks. “Yes, the honeycomb was wonderful, but you, my sunshine, are even sweeter than honey.” Felix winked adoringly, and he laughed merrily at the way your neck and ears flared brightly with red. Rendered speechless by his charm, you gently smack his clothed chest. But when he went back to making the pancakes, the largest smile crept across your face as you observed the man you utterly adored.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! It has been a while since I wrote works and published them, so I hope everyone who crosses this enjoys it! ◡̈

Requests (as long as they are open) and constructive criticism are always welcome!

#kpop #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz headcannons #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #skz fics #skz fluff #skz felix #lee yongbok #felix x reader

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

Hiya, and love your works! Do you have any drabbles or headcannons on Ominis having a hard time choosing a treat at Honeydukes wheneveron trips to Hogsmead? I can imagine all the different scents driving him crazy sometimes lol

Headcannons for Ominis at Honeydukes

Warnings - none

Ominis loves all the scents in the store

although a lot of candy doesn't smell particularly strong, since he has a sweet tooth he loves the sugary, chocolatey smell that wafts out as soon you open the door

it's a place that really makes him feel happy and somewhat childlike, it's not like his parents ever took him somewhere like it

he likes to pick out favorites based on their textures

he prefers sweet, chewy candies over chocolate bars or hard candies

especially if it has some gooey, teeth rotting liquid in the middle

he's in the shop every time he's in Hogsmeade so the shopkeepers will often let him sample things to decide what he wants

he definitely takes advantage of that when he knows it's someone who hasn't seen him lately and he'll have lots of samples for candies he's definitely never had before

he likes to enjoy the sensory experience, but will pull out his wand to read labels make sure he's not about to be tricked into tasting something horrid

he would scold Sebastian for tricking him into nasty flavors, telling him he was ruining his good time

he's into candy much more than pastries so he'll trade Sebastian extra sickles and galleons in exchange for helping him hoard breakfast treacles and tarts

#ominis gaunt #ominis #ominis gaunt headcannon #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy headcannon #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x reader #ominis x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis headcannon

[ewesless]

Goof Up Poll #1

Who left their chocolate chips for baking cookies with on the counter top when the dishwasher was running and melted 1/3 or more of the bag?

Okay, I'm going to do something a little different with this one. Drabbles! I mean, definitely vote your vote, but hear me out?

Why Solomon? He's a disaster in the kitchen, but he also is going to add some cayenne and powdered goji berries for a kick and healthy superfood twist. SOMEHOW the bag of chocolate chips melted and turnes into a solid brick. Oh well chocolate melts and evenly distributes, right? Especially with a torch! It also adds a delightfully, extra crunchy texture to the thick, flavorful crust (I'm woefully unimaginative compared to the Magic Master Chef :( These abominations would be safely removed by a stab happy, hazardous materials disposal specialist named Raphael.

Why Simeon? He's canonically a cute, old, out of touch ditz and enjoys cooking thoughtful recipes for his housemates. He would definitely keep some sweet snacky stuff like mini packs of M&M's or other hard shelled candies like Reese's Pieces as pick me ups and for Packed Lunches. So he would have a batch with cinnamon chips or butterscotch chips too. Apart from being specialized for the palate of the recipient he would put them in adorable bags with personalized labels written in his elegant script. Leviathan framed his tag, begged the others for theirs as rare memorabilia collectables and Mammon sold him his at a steep price...which he paid for on the spot. 6/7 SECURED. When he learned that Beel ate his which was devastating he demanded Beel regurgitate it OR ELSE. Fear the taste of his spicy newt chip dust fingers!!

Why Luke? Poor kid doesn't have his emotional regulation under control yet :( (I say as an old fart who doesn't either) He would be upset and also discover that the baking powder was expired and that the flour was contaminated by Solomon making his cursed pancakes so this was actually a blessing in disguise? Feeling unnerved but lucky he'd go to the store (with ??? as his chaperone, but I think he shops alone too?) and while there he would have a nice distraction by seeing inspiration for cupcakes or other little baked goods for next time. When he gets home he gets back into his groove and bakes a great batch of cookies! He calls his comfort friends and after a vent session he feels better and they suggest baking together. "How about Snickerdoodles?" He likes thick and chewy big ol' bakery style cookies.

Why Diavolo? There was a chat where he was part of a sleep away exchange at HoL (Lucifer wouldn't let him room with him 😓) and when he baked he had eggshells in it. He mistook salt for sugar and made perfectly spherical cookies in Nightbringer (they pair well with Demonus.) Diavolo's Salty Balls if Barbatos wasn't lurking nearby he would not think twice about eating the forbidden raw cookie dough and will pay the price for it tomorrow. If Barbatos was observing/teaching he would all of a sudden discover that his errors or mistakes would be magically fixed (Because sometimes Barbatos CANNOT ABIDE Diavolo making or learning from mistakes. He just can't help himself sometimes either, like a compulsion 😔) He likes crisp chocolate chip cookies, which is fortunate because that was exactly what he got.

Okay this one I have been waiting for. I am no better than the plot writers with Lucifer 😂

Why Barbatos? Barbatos does not have a dishwasher machine (he is the dishwasher) even as of OM (it was mentioned in a Sweets Masters chat that I forgot the name of 🥲) so imagine with me if you will that he was not aware that they radiate heat outside of the machine, not just in your face when you open it before the drying cycle is finished...

He has been enjoying THE HELL out of his new dishwasher this week. He's in a good mood, the Little D staff are miraculously well behaved despite now having 2+ hours freed up from no longer washing dishes by hand. Hm... (give them more breaks, please. Rest and recess is good for productivity, workplace rapport and emotional health.)

Today the Young Master's treat shall be his own recipe for Decadent Devildom Chocolate Chip Cookies.

While the ingredients are warming to room temperature he does the dirty dishes that were brought in shamefacedly by Little D no. 4 that he had hidden in the library while he was binge reading...5 days worth of them. That's forgivable because he now has an excuse to run his beautiful, large scale industrial dishwasher again! What he doesn't realize though is that it would heat the countertop. It melted his butter and chocolate chips.

Not missing a beat he melts the chocolate down in a double boiler and chills it in the refrigerator on a baking sheet (They had a refrigerator already. One mention is in the Barbatos chat that I forgot the name of with Diavolo's Opaque Mysterious Refrigerated Container) while it chills and the butter warms *properly* on a unheated surface. He goes and monitors Diavolo, anticipates that he may need to scold him. Surprisingly Diavolo is ahead of schedule! Inspection of the Little D's reveals that they have performed well above standard (because as stated R and R is goodddd) Wow....all is going well today!

The result is Chunky Chopped Chocolate Chip Cookies! Milk and Cookies for everyone to reward them for their hard work and a sweet happy ending!

Edit: Proofread your insomnia writing 6x. Better yet read it out loud! Or else you will be like me and gnash your teeth over forgotten words, disorganized sentence structure and typoes that you're still finding the next day and too tired to fully fix.

I love my super fun run on sentences and adjective overkill 😂 They make me oddly happy.

#useless poll #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me simeon #useless writing

[basilly]

dates with them

sypnopsis: what kind of dates would you have ?

includes: kita , akaashi , osamu & suna

warnings: no pronouns mentioned , wc 588

kita shinsuke | spa nights at home

after long, grueling days working in the heat, kita's physical and mental health take a toll. thus, you came up with spa nights! he obliges without an argument, enjoying the way you would care for him.

working your fingers carefully along kita's features, the cool mask instantly relieves his skin. he begins to relax, the tenseness from his muscles dissapating. his snowy hair was pushed back with one of your fluffy bunny headbands- he looked quite adorable.

"anddd there we go- ta da! matching face masks!"

you grin at him, only a mere couple inches from his face. he smiles softly back at you in return.

"thank you love."

he pecks your lips in appreciation, the only spot that wouldn't mess up your work.

akaashi keiji | making boquets for each other

you've always wanted to make a boquet of flowers that represented your stunning boyfriend, especially with flowers the color of his eyes. you could truly get lost in them, a stunning deep teal. though he wanted in as well, he's the boyfriend to get you flowers "just cause".

sticking another eucalyptus leaf into the vase, you believed you were almost done. you stepped back, admiring the beautiful arrangement of flowers. you decided on a variety of yellow, white, and deep teal flowers.

"keiji i'm done!" "mm give me one more second"

peering carefully to your right, akaashi was adjusting the position of a large white lily. his boquet for you consisted of daises, white lilies, and honeysuckles.

"yellow and white flowers?"

he merely smiled, eyes still trained on the assortment.

"daises mean i truly love you, white lilies: my love is pure, and honeysuckles represent devoted affection."

turning his gaze to you and softly grabbing your hand, he brings it up to place a soft kiss on the back. you could only remember burning up so much you needed water.

osamu miya | attending the food night market

it is no secret that food is the way to his heart, so what better way to spend your night at the night market? trying new things, new flavours, all with someone you love :)

"thank you!"

accepting the paper boat from the vendor, you weave through the crowd carefully.

"'samu- look how yummy!"

the steaming dango came in various colors, coated in different glazes. your mouth practically watered at the sight of it. osamu carefully picked them up by the skewer, blowing oon it gently before hovering it in front of you.

"here, take the first bite." "what. but i can get my own-" "just bite it!"

carefully biting down, the sweet glaze enveloped your tongue, the mochi texture perfectly soft and chewy. osamu took his own bite, instantly letting out sounds of delight.

as the food came and went, osamu couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy int he world. to have someone enjoying food as much as he does right besides him was all he needed.

suna rintarou | stargazing on the rooftop

quiet nights right alongside the twinkling stars and his s/o was his definition of serenity. often the two of you would find yourselves cuddled on the rooftop, enjoying the cool air and dim lighting.

"where do you think the lyra constellation is?" "i'm not too sure- i haven't heard of that one."

your soft whispers were almost too loud in the quiet night. suna's eyes dropped slightly, the relaxation of it all getting to him. your head rested on his arm, tucked perfectly into his side.

here, on the rooftop, held all the special moments. the stiffled giggles, deep conversations, and confessions, all in one spot.

every moment on there was one to cherish.

#suna x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #akaashi x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #akaashi fluff #osamu x you #suna x y/n #suna rintaro fluff #haikyuu scenarios #basilly #akaashi drabble #osamu scenarios #osamu fanfiction

[polizwrites]

Treading a Rocky Road

This is a fill for today’s @flashfictionfridayofficial  prompt [#FFF244 Critical Ice Cream] as well as a March prompt from @buckybarnesevents   Build a Bucky Bingo - Bad Coping Mechanisms 

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark  Rating: Teen Tags:  Tower fic, ice cream as a coping mechanism, flirting & innuendo, pining, pre-slash Summary: Bucky gets swept up in Tony’s emotional eating episode .. but he doesn’t mind a bit.  

Bucky was minding his own business,  leafing through a reader’s guide to Lord of the Rings when Tony swept into the common area of the Tower. “Come with me. Now.”  

He grabbed Bucky’s hand,  barely giving him time to scramble up from the comfortable armchair he’d been sitting in before dragging him into the kitchen. 

“What’s going on, pal?” Bucky spluttered out as  Tony sat a large insulated bag down on the island.

“I have had a terrible day and now feel a critical need for ice cream,” Tony replied as he got a couple bowls out of the cupboard. “They only had my favorite flavor in the quart size,”  he opened the bag and pulled out a fancy-looking container,   “ and if left to my own devices, I will eat this whole damn thing and make myself sick,” Tony thrust a spoon at Bucky, “so I need you to split it with me.”  

“Uh, okay.” Bucky wasn’t really hungry, but there was no way he was going to turn down something sweet. Or a chance to spend time with his crush.  “What kind is it?” 

“Rocky Road.”  

“Never heard of it.”

Tony’s face lit up as he pried the top off.   “Oh sunshine, You are in for a treat!” he exclaimed with an almost fanatical grin.  “Unless you’re allergic to walnuts or almonds?” 

“Nope.”  Bucky hoped he wasn’t blushing too much at Tony’s casual endearment.  He held out his bowl as Tony loaded it up with what looked  – and smelled - like chocolate ice cream with chunks in it. “What’re the white bits?” 

“Marshmallow.” Tony served himself an equal amount and - still using the large serving spoon - took a big bite of the ice cream.  He let out an obscene sounding moan that sent pleasant shivers down Bucky’s spine. 

“That good, huh?” Bucky murmured, taking a bite of his own.  The ice cream was amazingly rich and smooth, coating his tongue with dark chocolatey bliss.  The marshmallows  added an unexpected, but welcome chewy texture to the experience, contrasting nicely with the crunch of the nuts.  Bucky couldn’t hold in his own hum of pleasure and Tony’s eyes lit up in delight. 

“I know, right? It’s better than sex.” Tony winked. “Well, almost.”  

“Afraid it’s been too long for me to make a valid comparison.” Bucky found himself saying, adding in a wink of his own. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “That is both a surprise and a shame, my handsome friend.” He scooped up another spoon of ice cream and gave it a  slow, seductive lick.    “Let me know if you’re interested in refreshing your memory any time soon.” 

#writing stuff #flash fic friday #winteriron #pre-slash #emotional eating #bucky x tony #shameless self promo

[tomatoswup]

141 and Tacos [Headcanons]

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra

Whilst 141 and you are on a quick break through the streets of Mexico, do you spot a fairly sized taco stand on the side of the sidewalk. Eat up! What kind of tacos would 141 like?

A/N: Y'all can't tell me 141 DIDN'T eat any mexican food during their time in Mexico cause i knOW they were starving goDDAMN,,, Also this was written with a reader with Mexican origin or relation in mind, so take that as you will.

also first post on this blog ★

warnings: none unless you don't like the description of cow tongue or somethin' :)

Price

This man loves the good ol' classic Tacos De Carne

Asks the poor vendor to pour a ungodly amount of onions ontop because's who's gonna stop him cmon now,,

also he's british,,,

Rudy kinda looks at him like 'Damn does the man like onions this much?'

Fell in LOVE with the salsa verde although he had a stroke at first

Orders 10 tacos de carne and a quesadilla because he's about "variety"

After his first time eating them, he craves tacos a bit more after finishing missions.

That one dude that puts hella avocado in his tacos

No like literally the poor tortilla is gonna pop open

"..."

"What?"

"Price your taco is gonna literally fucking explode.."

Instead of killing enemies, Price is killing these poor tacos

He still eats them in peace tho 🫶

Soap

Soap's a bit more of the daring/curious one

So he tries the Tacos de Lengua first since you offer one to those who dared eat it because you're pretty sure none of the 141 members (excluding Alejandro and Rudy) have tasted cow tongue before.

Cringed at first when he took the first bite tbh

The texture was something that threw him wayyy off

Like who tf thought putting cow tongue in tacos was a good idea??

But as he slowly started taking it in, it actually tasted...good?

The meat was soft and chewy but it oddly felt comforting?

Quickly found himself to actually like the tacos and orders 5 more from the vendor.

Asks if your mother makes them, and if you say yes, he WILL ask for an invite.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU LIVE WITH?? YOU'VE EATEN THIS YOUR WHOLE LIFE?!"

croaked at the salsa roja though, started tearing up a lil`,, it's ok tho you pat his back as he chugs water.

Gaz

i will die with the headcannon that gaz is as gen.z as he can be

Orders Tacos de Birria because he remembered Rodolfo talking about eating some for lunch.

He also remembers seeing people cook them on his insta feed so

Likes the greasiness to them tbh

AND THE CHEESE PULL HE GOT WHEN HE TOOK THAT FIRST BITE? JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL THIS MAN IS IN HEAVEN

His leg gave out as he finished his first taco

you know the lil birria juice they give yall in a lil bowl? Stained.

His fingers are drenched and shi

50 napkins by his plate as he eats ong

Ate 4 before he tapped out

Will chug a coke and a water after so his arteries don't feel as clogged tho

This poor man is in a food coma at the lil picnic table by the stand by how full he got with only 4 of those tacos.

"Ayo where's Gaz?"

Gaz: -Sprawled out on the picnic table seat with his eyes closed-

"Oh fuck he's dead-"

"I lived bitch."

Ghost

Was very hesitant to taste tacos out in the streets at first because damn his paranoia does get ahead of him :(

But after everyone tries them, he tries to give them a shot

Didn't like the tacos de lengua because of the texture

And the tacos de birria were too greasy for him (but if he would've totally ate them after drinking though)

But damn, looking at the pastor slowly rotate on the vertical rotisserie did make it look really appetizing...

No regrets

Really likes the tad of sweetness added to the flavor because of the pineapple added

Ghost really loves meat so when he watched the vendor pack the tortilla with pastor, he knew he was in for a ride.

Orders quite a bit,, like 7 (or more if he's really hungry)

Faces away from yall to eat so you guys couldn't see his reaction but damn, that empty plate tells stories..

Alejandro

Being born in Mexico got it perks ngl

And being in Special Forces allows him to travel all around the Mexican states.

So he's tried alot of taco varieties

But his heart and soul will always be with Barbacoa straight from his momma's home OR from Las Almas.

Either in tacos or with a full plate of rice and frijoles puercos he will FUCK THEM UP.

Plate cleared and EVERYTHING

He loves eating them when he's homesick :(

Lives by salsa roja,, and throughout these headcannons I'm not talking about the salsa only made with tomatoes,, I'm talking about it being made with them red hot ass chiles.

The butt on fire kinda salsa roja

Drinks one corona whilst eating

But also waters that down with a cold water righttt after 😌

Rodolfo

Another classic,, Loves the crunch of the tacos de chicharron ♡

Like Alejandro, he pours an crazy ass amount of salsa roja on top

And lemon, lots of lemon on top,,

Soap and Ghost watch him in curiosity and fear as he drenched his tacos red

You give him props fr fr

Always drinks a Jarrito de Tamarindo with his tacos, like a baller~

Orders like 5 normally and like 1 taco de chorizo on the side :P

Just as a palette cleanser, but besides tacos de chicharron, he also likes the taste of tacos de lengua

But tbh it just depends on how he's feeling

Likes his onions cooked and put on the side so he can just plain right eat them.

And righttt after he's done eating everything, he grabs another Jarrito as a finisher :D

#cod headcanons #mw2 x reader #cod imagine #mw2 headcanons #task force 141 #captain price headcanons #price headcanons #soap mctavish #soap headcanons #alejandro headcanons #rodolfo headcanons #modern warfare headcanons #call of duty headcanons #cod mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost headcanons

[mishapen-dear]

Jaiden broke into Cellbit's Fear room while he slept. Now, she makes a guest appearance in all of his favourite nightmares.

NOTE: this is gorier than all of my other fics, thus the immediate read-more instead of the typical blurb. I watched a bad horror movie and got so offended I went out of my way to write horror on purpose. Cannibalism and blood and gore and mildly ooc Dream Jaiden my beloveds

There’s blood in Cellbit’s mouth.

There’s muscle, too. Fat and nerves and viscera. Somewhere, there’s a knife- he made the first cuts with that, used it to peel away the sweat-soaked skin and get to the hot meat underneath- and he could use it now to carve away more of the corpse, but he can’t bring himself to look for it, preferring to rip away at the gaping hole in the body’s side with his hands and broken nails. He’s so hungry. He was so hungry. He can’t remember why. He remembers his empty stomach, the way it precluded the cannibalism with the desperate feeling of its own self-consumption. Then, the knife. Then, the body. Then, the warmth.

He digs his nails in and pulls, hands so slick with blood that every morsel should be slipping through his fingers, but the knife tore so much of the meat that it is - was - child’s play to come away with another handful. The texture is like poorly-ground pork, and the taste is so metallic- but of course it is. He hadn’t learned how to drain and cook it, yet. Hadn’t known it was an option. Every gory mouthful is seasoned with blood, and he licks it from his hands, then scrapes under his fingernails with his teeth just to consume that little bit more. He’s so hungry. It’s so warm. The body is still hot beneath him, fresh and practically steaming in the cold evening air. He feels drunk on it.

Is this how it went…? No, he doesn’t think so. The first time was desperation. He didn’t mind the taste, but he hadn’t loved it, either. It didn’t matter. It was food, and food to a starving boy is like ambrosia to the gods. But now- now he revels in the metallic taste. The chewiness. The satisfaction of a predator sinking teeth-first into the bowels of its prey.

There’s something not-quite-right here. Something foggy. Who is he eating? There is blood in his beard, across his cheeks, sticking his hair in messy strands to his face. This is his first meal, but he was a boy, then- here, now, he is a man. He is starving. He plunges his hands back into the corpse and swallows down mouthful after mouthful of raw flesh and never feels full.

Another pair of hands join him. Or- one hand, which picks delicately at a loose piece of skin. He stills to watch it, heart suddenly hammering in his chest. The details are stark, suddenly. The corpse’s side torn open like by an animal -had his knife done that?- and the blood shines in the moonlight -is it night?- and the pale hand dips the skin into the rest of the gore, carefully scooping up some of the messiest meat onto it like a strange appetizer at a fancy dinner. Cellbit doesn’t breathe. His eyes are pinned to the hand as it lifts, raising the little treat up to the waiting, smiling face of Jaiden. She pops the skin in her mouth, chews thoughtfully, and swallows decisively. He feels cold.

“Not bad,” she says, and reaches down for more.

Cellbit turns away and vomits.

–

He’s speaking to Pac. He has him pressed up against the wall, knife to his throat, and he’s growling in his ear. There’s sweat sticking his hair to the back of his neck, and he can feel Pac’s heart beating rabbit-quick even through the layers of clothes between them. He laughs, low, and keeps laughing when Pac whimpers out- something. Something he’s happy to hear. He licks his own teeth and tastes blood.

He trails the knife upwards, slow, to scrape against Pac’s pulse point. It leaves a thin white line of marked skin, and he’s smiling. Pac’s eyes are blown wide and he stammers something out and in return the knife is pressed down, gently, until Pac shuts up.

“Woah.”

Cellbit’s heart jumps into his throat. He turns his head, just enough, to see Jaiden. She looks strange in prison clothes, but she doesn’t seem to mind them. She holds her hands up when Cellbit meets her gaze.

“Hey, I’m not judging,” she says. “You do you. I’ll just…uh. Go this way. Really quickly,” she adds, like an afterthought, and turns to stride purposefully down the corridor. Her footsteps don’t make any noise.

Pac is still trembling beneath Cellbit’s hands. He looks back to him- but it’s not Pac, except it is, but he can’t see all of him at once- there are details missing until Cellbit thinks to focus on them. No hair across Pac’s face until there is, and Pac is wearing the hoodie instead of his prison uniform, and he says something that Cellbit doesn’t hear and he doesn’t seem to notice Jaiden at all.

“What?” Cellbit croaks out. He pulls away from Pac in confusion, already turning to follow her. “Jaid-”

–

He’s shaking. There’s blood on his hands, and he’s shaking. His eyes are closed and he tries to close them harder. There is no blood in his mouth. This is progress. He has to believe this is progress. He has to believe that he wants progress. His room is dark and his bed is hard and he can’t stop shaking.

She’s there, then, curled up the way he is; she’s his mirror, wrapped around herself overtop of the covers. When he opens his eyes she doesn’t move, gazing at him peacefully. “How many?” she asks. There’s a strange quality to her voice, and he struggles to parse it.

“What?” he croaks. His voice his hoarse from crying.

“How many therapists did you go through?”

He chokes on a sob, and doesn’t answer.

She hasn’t pulled away, but she’s further from him, and he reaches for her but can’t bring himself to touch her. There is still blood on his hands. She doesn’t recoil; she watches him curiously, smiling faintly. There is something wrong. “Wow, dude. You’re really fucked up, aren’t you?”

“I’m a monster.”

He blinks and Jaiden is sitting up, suddenly, legs crossed. She blinks a few times before she furrows her brows at him, squinting at where he’s still curled up on the horrible bed. “And I’m a bird,” she offers, uncertain but trying to help.

Cellbit’s tears break down into laughter. He laughs, and laughs, and she joins him.

–

The plan goes bad. The plan goes bad fast.

The hallway is cold, damp and wet- moldy, and covered in rotting vines. It’s dark. He can’t see. He doesn’t know how he got here, but he knows what happens next.

Like in slow motion, he turns. The bear is there, grinning. The chainsaw is there, whirring. He’s there, too, and he’s already screaming before the saw meets his flesh.

Slow motion. Why is it so slow? He watches his own blood fly through the air, splattering across the walls, the bear, himself. It’s not just blood, though, he knows this. It’s meat. Chunks of his own muscle wet his face and coat his hands. He’s frozen, stuck in place. He can’t feel the pain but he’s so acutely aware of it- and then the whirring stops.

Now is his cue to run.

He takes it, gasping for air as he rips himself off of the saw (and there is more gore, more blood, more scraps of him left to smear across the floor). He almost slips in the blood as he turns, but just barely recovers and instead manages to fall into his sprint. .

Fuck. He can’t run fast enough. Slow motion. He’s moving in slow motion, but the bear isn’t, and the chainsaw starts to whirr again behind him. Where can he run? Forwards. Nowhere to hide, but there is a trail of blood left behind him so he can’t hide anyway.

His limbs are heavy, weighed down by terror. His heart is in his ears. Then there are spikes in the floor, and there is blood on the spikes, and there is a woman bleeding.

Before, he tried to jump over the pit. Now, Cellbit stands in front of it and stares, caught like a deer in headlights.

“Cellbit!” Jaiden cheers, happy to see him. She’s embedded deep into the spike pit, impaled in every limb. There are no less than four spikes driven entirely through her torso, and one that has torn away her ear. Her wings are spread out beneath her, and they bleed. She’s pinned like a bug in a glass case, leaking red onto the floor below her. Cellbit tastes metal in his mouth. “This is so cool. I’ve always wanted to star in a horror movie.”

“This isn’t- this isn’t a movie,” he pants, the english thick on his tongue. He’s so confused. He’s so scared. Where are they? Why is she here? She wasn’t here before, before it was just him and-

“Cucurucho!” Jaiden cheers, with the same joy she’d called Cellbit’s name. His blood runs cold. Jaiden keeps talking. “Long time no see, buddy! I like your chainsaw. And all the red is nice, it’s good to see you trying out a new style. Do you like it?”

“Ha ha ha,” Cucurucho says, too close, behind him. Cellbit doesn’t turn. Is he hyperventilating? He keeps his eyes pinned on Jaiden. She is still smiling, and bleeding, and she leans her head happily against the spike that took her ear.

“Jaiden-” Cellbit chokes out. There is a hand on his back. Soft and round. More of a paw than a hand, really. It pats him, once, in a gesture that in any other situation could have been taken as comforting. Here, he knows, it is mocking.

“Yeah?” Jaiden says.

Cellbit doesn’t get the chance to answer. The paw pushes him, and he falls, and in the blink of an eye he’s impaled. One through his stomach, two through his chest, one scraping his neck and one for each arm and two in his left leg and he is screaming, he is crying, he is dying.

Below him, Jaiden’s blue feathers are stained bright red. She’s talking to Cucurucho, but he can’t hear the words.

–

Roier is dead on the ground. His side is open, sliced cleanly with a knife. Cellbit sits quietly next to him, hands bloodied. Jaiden sits on his other side, holding Roier’s heart in her hands.

“I don’t think you would, for the record,” she says, quietly. She holds Roier’s heart up to his mouth, almost reverent, and he almost drowns on the gush of blood when he bites.

–

There is a worm burning in a fire. There is more burning, too, but he watches the thing he has killed the most closely. He wishes it died. He wishes he had more worms. He wishes he could kill it again.

“Is it always like this?” she asks. Again, her posture mirrors his. Her legs are pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees as she watches the fire.

“No,” he answers numbly. “Sometimes Richarlyson is here. I’m surprised that Bagi isn’t.”

She sucks air in through her teeth, and then there’s the weight of her hand on his arm. They sit like that for a minute, watching the fire. Roberto is almost nothing but ash, now.

Jaiden asks, “If it came down to it- you, Roier, or Cucurucho, who do you think I would choose?”

He puts his chin on his knees and holds himself tighter. “I don’t know.”

“...I don’t think real-me knows that answer, either,” Jaiden admits to him. “But I think you know she loves you… And I think you should wake up now, too. I’m gone.”

He turns to look at her, mouth opening on a question, but she’s gone. The room is gone. It’s dark, and then it’s just- it’s just his Fear room. He’s laying on the ground, curled up in a tight little ball, arms over his head, and his mouth tastes like dust. His joints pop as he uncurls and pushes himself up, the weight of sleep still resting heavy on his bones.

There’s a single blue feather on the ground in front of him. Jaiden is nowhere to be seen.

Cellbit sits there for a long, long moment. Then, he stands up, leaves the Fear room, and goes to find his husband.

He hopes Roier slept better than he did.

#qsmp #qsmp fic #mishapen words #qsmp jaiden animations #qsmp cellbit #blood #gore #cannibalism #some chainsaw Trauma #all that good shit #if I'm missing a tw lemme know but I thinkkk that's all #it's been years since i've written horror On Purpose #which. if you've read some of my other fics. may be a surprise to you #so i have no idea the actual Uh Oh level. so there's your warning uhh #i like it tho feels v spooky month

[the-moon-devi]

🍨What Flavor Cookie are you based on the BAKER ASTEROID? PT.2 🍡

🧁BAKER ASTEROID◇◇ 《2549》🧁

🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮🥮

DESCRIPTION: The baker asteroid is said to be the bakers asteroid for baked goods and even bakers themselves.

🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁🧁

Baker in Libra/7th house: I just get a loving vibe from this placement, either baker in libra likes to bake for their partner or your partner bakes for you( especially if it's in the 7th house) you could sell baked foods because libra does rule over merchandise and businesses. Venus influencing this y'all could have very beautiful techniques when baking especially if you decorate your cakes, cookies,etc. this placement has the ability to get very creative as well. I feel like y'all baking can be very good but kinda on the healthier side as well. Also y'all could actually have a bakery store

Cookie: canestrelli cookies// madeleine cookies 

Baker in Scorpio//8th house: imma keep it real this could go 1 of 2 ways y'all might either be a good or bad baker that's just what I was called to say. Or you could be good but you guys might add some sort of knowledge that you have leared abou/ baking or edgy touch into your baking. This could be a hidden talent you have. Unless this is in a certain house or sign it could vary. In the 8th house, I would definitely say like a hidden talent. A gift you inherited from your ancestors this could get really spiritual or occultic. Also you could constantly be burning your baked goods. But don't get me wrong here y'all food definitely could be very good just a little over cooked . I have this placement in the 8th house and I like baked sweets soft but a tad burnt. Y'all cookie will be interesting to come up with. 

Cookie: white chocolate red velvet cookies/ brown butter Carmel cookie

Baker in Sagittarius/9th house: its kinda giving foreign baking vibes like y'all take recipes from foreign cultures. Very adventurous with your baking style. Exspansive flavourrrrrr 🤤, y'all give me professional chef/ baker vibes here . Blessed in baking, might even go to school for baking or travel to learn about baking. I feel like y'all can become experts in baking. My little alchemists got the perrrrfect recipes to make your tastebuds explode!

Not really a cookie but they're good asf : Galab jamun/Big Blue Monster stuffed cookie (he he he he 😉)

Baker in Capricorn/10th house : now if baker is in the SIGN Capricorn I feel like y'all baking can be good but very old school if you look at your cookie you'll see what I mean. If it's in the 10th house this could be your career or just something your known for. Baker here it may have taken you some time to master baking. But I feel like Capricorn/10th house could make some good bakers. Depending on aspects,degrees,house,signs it will vary. But like I said very old fashion but good. If it's badly aspected, I feel like the baking might be a little dry or brittle. But all in all you could be a professional baker.

Cookie: oatmeal raisins/loornadoone/ snicker doodle

Baker in Aquarius/11th house: Eccentric, creative, different. Aquarius can blow some minds away or may be horrible. (depending on aspects don't beat me up😓) . I feel like y'all a little spicy/tangy it's giving lemon meringue or like y'all the type to mix pb&j into a cookie or sum like that. This placement as well could make you very popular for your cooking online. Friends may know how to bake. Baking may even be a dream. You guys as well could have a bakers blog or just be popular on social media for that.

Cookie: churro chocolate stuffed cookies/ pb& j cookies

Baker in Pisces/12th house: it's either lost or it's found here, y'all have it all or nothing. You either can bake your a$$ off or not. If you happen to be a good one then I feel like your really good you definitely could have the ability to heal others through your baking. But also since Neptune is here and Neptune rules 🍷🍺🥃💊🚬 there's a possibility of **cough cough** (edib----🌿🌿) im just being mindful if there's any kids reading this. These bakers could make comfort foods. Maybe even holistic,chemical free baked foods. I feel like this placements food could taste good and take your your taste buds to outerspace. 🤗😇

Cookies: raspberry swirl cream cheese cookie/ cosmic brownie cookies

#asteroid #astro notes #natal chart #astrology posts #occult #baker's #foodstrology #astro community #libra #capricorn #sagittarius #scorpio #aqaurius #pisces

[cassyapper]

missed your post like 5 hours ago but i have an inquiry. what kind taste sensations do kakyoin and/or jotaro enjoy the most? do they like sour stuff? spicy stuff? savory stuff? tell me your thoughts chief

SUPER FUN THAT U ASKED ME THIS CAUSE I DO GENUINELY HAVE HEADCANONS ABOUT THIS LMFAOOOO

so kakyoin is the kind of neurodivergent where he needs everything to be stimulating as hell. he is also an anthropology nerd and he loves trying new things from new cultures canonically. as such he can get behind any food so long as the taste is extreme enough. very spice. very sour. very sweet. etc. so long as it's a taste experience he'll love it. he doesnt mind most textures but if it's a tough kind of chewy he'll get a little turned off

jotaro meanwhile is the kind of neurodivergent where he's a picky af eater. it's why he likes his mom's cooking so much, she knows how to make things that work with his tongue and mouth in regards to taste and texture. he likes mild flavors for everything except umami, he can handle really strong umami flavoring he likes it a lot. as for texture he hates chewy things he hates gum he hates mochi nasty. rice is about as soft as he can handle before feeling gross. he doesnt like sticky things either as a general rule but he has some exceptions

this makes meal time between the two very funny and an absolute ordeal in figuring out what the hell to make for dinner. in the end holly basically teaches them her recipes cause her flavor is strong enough for kakyoin but not too overwhelming for jotaro. occasionally they both make their own meals independently and eat together like that. which is another can of worms cause they both get territorial over the kitchen when theyre cooking LOL

anyway. <3 thank u for asking mobi

#cass cries #jjba #noritaro tag #sure

[greydaysandstarrynights]

Hi! What headcanons do you have about Claudine Frollo?

// Blanket trigger warning for references to child abuse.

Claudine is absolutely not her name, but I haven’t decided on what her name is. I like Catherine but I also like Magdalena, because I think Deenie is still a cute nickname and if anybody deserves cute things, it’s her.

She’s left handed—and Frollo took it about as well as you’d expect. This—and how terribly her father reacted to that—I’m pretty sure I got from a fanfic of yours, but I liked it, and thought Frollo’s reaction made perfect sense, for him and the time he came from, so both became my headcanons too.

She has a very good singing voice, but basically nobody knows that. She mainly knows medieval hymns—Gaudete is her favorite—but she may have picked up a few songs she overheard from the bell tower too. She doesn’t sing those, even though no one is likely to hear, because she doesn’t know what all the phrases mean, and this is the Isle, so they’re probably innuendos anyway, and she isn’t taking any chances.

She’s autistic, but this is less a unique to her headcanon and more the result of me being autistic too, and unable to write neurotypical characters at all. They end up ignoring nonverbal body language or being way too aware of sensory information even when I’m not deliberately writing them that way, and so I just conceded to the inevitable and boom, autistic!Claudine. This goes over, as an old history professor of mine once said, like a screen door on a submarine with her father, who just thinks she’s stubborn, spoiled, willful, etc.

That brings us to: her sensory profile and special interests! So every autistic person is different, but here’s how I usually list Deenie’s sensory aversions and preferences: She loves soft fabrics, like old cotton, silk and satin, but not velvet because it—and lace—are too scratchy. Dresses with high collars bother her, too, because if she winds up sitting on the skirt, she feels as if she can’t breathe. She loves bland, faintly sweet creamy foods, like puddings or mousse or yogurt or custard. The creaminess has to be evenly distributed though. If there are lumps, that’s a definite no go. At the total opposite end of the food spectrum, she also loves foods with the consistency of tanned leather, so, stale bread, chips, etc. if it has the texture of cardboard, she’s probably a fan. The in between, like lunch meat, or wilted lettuce or meat with gristle/fat, she can’t stand, or anything that’s a mix of chewy and hard. She likes dim lighting like candles or twinkling fairy lights, but finds direct sunlight or even really bright artificial light too overwhelming. Her special interests are, saints, Latin, and animals, so she can tell you anything and everything about any obscure medieval saint you can think of, conjugates verbs in Latin as a verbal stim, and knows all the native fauna of the Isle.

For reasons I’m sure are apparent, she doesn’t have meltdowns and hasn’t since she was really little. Instead, she has a mix of shutdowns and maladaptive daydreaming. Shutdowns are like meltdowns except internal. The person can become nearly immobile, and struggle to speak or respond. Sometimes people can go on autopilot, so they can move, but aren’t aware of their surroundings. Claudine does the latter, with accompanying daydreams. She also copes by losing herself in daydreams that are far more real than whatever is going on around her in the real world. Often, the daydreams combine with the shutdowns, and she will lose herself in both when the world around her becomes too overwhelming to bear.

TW Self harm so, there were medieval folks who self flagellated as a form of penance—whipped themselves with scourges, basically—and there’s actually a super small, fringe order of Catholics who practice “mortification of the flesh,” and I…..could see Frollo doing that, and Claudine, horrifyingly, either picking it up from him or being taught it deliberately. I think this is another thing you thought of, too. I have a really dark version of this where she uses matches/candles/the flame on the stove, instead of a scourge, belt, or a blade. I could see Frollo doing it to her, first—while making really disturbing references to hellfire if she doesn’t stop doing whatever it is—and then she just csrries on with it herself.

Frollo distrusts most modern technology, not because he doesn’t know how it works, but because he thinks it promotes idleness and sloth, so they only have electricity and hot water in the shop. In their rooms, they use candlelight and while they have running water, it’s cold, except in the bathroom sinks.

Deenie is scared of thunderstorms, the dark, and small spaces. Thunderstorms for sensory reasons—unpredictable, loud sounds and bright lights—and also, probably, because her dad made some offhand comment comparing the anger of the Lord to a thunderstorm, and the two conceits got fused in her mind, or, given that it’s Frollo, he could’ve outright told her that thunderstorms = God is angry, but either way, she isn’t a fan. Her fear of darkness/small spaces came from being locked in the closet as a child—Frollo’s version of time out. She was supposed to pray/ contemplate/repent of whatever. “sin” she’d committed to get locked up in the first place, but usually she just quietly panicked about what might be lurking in the dark.

#ooc #claudine frollo #mun speaks #Child abuse tw #self harm TW #dragoney

[danafeelingsick]

Ooh since it’s his birthday, can we have Diluc dealing with the aftermath of a birthday dinner gone wrong? Perhaps something was sour but he didn’t realize until it’s too late. Emeto ensues.

anon, i think i wrote way too much... i was halfway through this thing when i stopped and re-read your request and realized you didn't specify any caretaker, and the word aftermath kept nagging at me, like, it's supposed to be after. and i wrote a whole birthday party scene. so! i made one part, almost like an alternate ending to what i was writing originally. and i'll post the second part as soon as i'm done with it. but for now, here's your request.

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ, ᴅɪʟᴜᴄ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1.5

NON-KINK BLOGS AND MINORS DNI

PART 1

PART 2

In which Diluc has to deal alone with the consequences of overeating at a birthday dinner.

ᴀᴏ3

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ alcohol mention, induced vomiting, mentioned fainting, light stuffing, overeating, food poisoning, throat finger!ng

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ 3,4k~

❝𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.❞

Diluc found himself silently thanking the wind for leaving the streets completely empty that night. The cold biting breeze left him shuddering, seeming to open gashes into his coat every time it blew over him.

No wonder no one was around, with the city's main tavern closed for the night, and not a single bard to entertain the passersby, why would anyone be? At least no one would see the pitiful face of distaste the young man had, for that he was grateful to the cold wind.

That gratitude, however, didn't extend to its archon, for he knew now the former didn't have a hand in it. As far as he could tell, that drunkard wasn't even in Mondstadt anymore.

The darknight hero suddenly stopped where he was, gripping a nearby wall as he felt a shuddering wave of nausea wash over him, leaving him dizzy and distrustful of his sights. It wouldn't be the first time it happened that night, each step he took would make him feel heavier and heavier.

How could he let this happen? He thought, bringing a hand to cover his mouth as a low sickly belch flew past his lips.

Diluc had been hopeful this dreadful day would go by and none would be privy to it. He had been naive, so naive to think any would respect his wishes, and let him enjoy his birthday in peace.

Was it even his birthday still? He looked up to see the full moon casting its silver light down on him. It should be past midnight by now, just another day like any other.

As it should be. Hell, he should've realized sooner when Charles dismissed him so nonchalantly, saying he could very well take care of the bar on his own. And how cordial the maids had been, when they would normally cower around him. Even Kaeya, who hadn't seen him all day, managed to track him down and refused to leave his side until he came with him to the Knight's headquarters under the guise of some business meeting.

“Ugh…”, Diluc grimaced as he recalled the shouts of surprise, and that slimy smirk on Kaeya's face as he bared his way out.

His gut had already cowered in anticipation as he saw the feast cluttering the table. Diluc wasn't someone weak of stomach, but having so much food crammed in his belly in such a short period ensured a bad time later on. And to top it all off, he was sure something he ate had gone sour.

He wouldn't put it past him, given how unfavorable luck had been to his side that day, and how Kaeya had arranged that impromptu birthday party. Each guest had brought a dish of their own, resulting in varying qualities in culinary and presentation.

The Outrider, Amber as he recalled it, had tried her hand at preparing Sweet Madames and Sticky Honey Roasts, trying to fill in the absence of the traveler as they were out somewhere in a land beyond the sea. After a bite or two, Diluc just couldn't stomach any more of it, the chewy texture and the sheer abuse of seasoning quickly became too much for him, no matter how much she insisted.

While Jean's mushroom pizzas had been a palate cleanser, and Eula's moon pies had been filling enough, there were simply too many dishes to sample properly. And the lingering taste of alcohol in everything Kaeya had cooked… Diluc had his gut complaining under his tight belt in no time.

It was already dark out when he finally got to leave the Knight's headquarters. And now he could only hope no one would spot him like that, staggering his way home in the middle of the night, like a pitiful boozer with nowhere to go.

The former captain scowled as he heard his stomach give a low growl as it tried to settle, viciously churning the heavy mass of food sitting stubbornly inside. He could almost feel it brushing past the inner walls of his guts as he felt it tossing and turning inside.

Paying too much attention to it already had his tongue driving back with weak gags, so instead, he focused on swallowing. Diluc closed his eyes, drowning out his vision that seemed to be slightly tilted. He gulped, once, twice, then breathed through his nose, hoping any voluntary motion would take his mind off the nausea.

The constant intake of saliva only seemed to be adding to the fullness of his stomach, leaving his esophagus with the impression of a ghostly hand pinching it from the inside. His mouth was filling with drool quicker than he could swallow. It was starting to take more and more after the taste of something he had eaten.

“...urp–”, he had to clog his mouth shut as he felt a bubble of air suddenly rise past his gullet, bursting in the back of his tongue with a foul acidic sting.

It tasted like grape juice, he realized with a shuddering exhale leaving his nostrils, how clearly it tasted sickly sweet and strongly acidic, unbearably bitter as it washed over his tongue.

Halfway through the night, he had already drained an entire bottle in between bites, it was the only thing he could properly stomach after eating so much off-tasting food.

Diluc clasped a hand firmly over his mouth when he felt a muffled gag cause his chest to hitch, trying to suppress the clear image of the undercooked meat dripping from his fork, the slimy chewy texture, the bizarre taste.

He could feel something shifting inside his queasy stomach, sending more air to rest in the back of his tongue before he could swallow it. Diluc was desperate for any form of relief from the pressure in his stomach, so he tried to carefully burp behind his hand.

“...guh… buur–”, he let out a startled hiss as his cheeks suddenly bulged out, a watery surge flooding his mouth.

Fuck, fuck. His mind was screaming at him now, shifting all of his attention to the solid clumps of undigested food swirling inside his mouth, rolling over his tongue. He had to– without thinking, he tried swallowing, bit by bit, feeling chunks of undigested meat and boiling acid travel down his throat.

It felt utterly revolting, being forced to taste twice the meal he'd been forced to eat mere hours ago, but he couldn't just let it happen now. It was unthinkable to have him dirtying the streets with the contents of his pitiful stomach. Enough drunkards were left to do this, he refused to become another.

The poor man was wheezing behind his gloved hand, swallowing convulsively as he tried to clear the taste of vomit out of his mouth. Once he could open his eyes again, he shakingly lowered his hand, glancing at it to see there was a smear of drool coating it.

The restless churning of his stomach contents and the loud gurgling sounds only seemed to worsen. He held a clean hand carefully over the curve of his belly, feeling something shift constantly under his skin and his form-fitting clothes.

It felt like his legs were made out of cotton as he took a step forward, followed by another, then another. He had to shift all of his attention into putting one foot in front of the other, right then left, and somehow not mess this up.

His mind was far away as he walked, tracking the way to his home out of muscle memory. On a good night, Diluc would commute in a few minutes, without a single soul spotting him as he stuck to the shadows. Now, he had no notion of time, but no less than an hour had been spent and he was only halfway there.

He could only hope he would have enough control to command his stomach contents down and his legs forward. All he knew was he needed to get home before he had the chance to fall ill again.

***

It was… so cold. The darknight hero had his arms folded tightly over his chest as he started approaching the winery. It wasn't the wind anymore, a ghostly chill seemed to be following him wherever he went, refusing to let go as it cloaked him in a shuddering blanket.

His fingers were nearly numb as he gripped the handle and flung open the front door. A couple of steps inside and it was gone, almost like it wanted to see him home safe, but he didn't let go of his position. Diluc seemed to be operating with muffled hazy orders ringing inside his head, he made a beeline for his bedroom, ignoring, or rather, barely listening to the timid greetings of his servants.

The nausea was now dizzying, muffling his senses as if he was underwater, listening in to the distant sounds of his stomach groaning. The door creaked as he pushed it, then creaked again as he closed it behind him.

He staggered towards his bed and sat, his wary body sinking into the mattress as it begged for a rest. Diluc felt like he could just fall over as he lazily undid the clasps of his boots and kicked them off to a corner.

Next, his coat slid out of his shoulders, falling away to the other side of the bed and disappearing over the edge. He fought a fierce battle against his belts, undoing them with the unskilled fingers of a sickly man.

“...phew”, he let out a puff of air as the pressure over his belly was finally released, ridding himself from his shirt as well as the mere brush of fabric over it spelled discomfort.

Diluc looked down to see his otherwise lean abdomen had been forced into an unusual curve, the skin stretching over it like and taking an odd pinkish tone, making it look too similar to a flustered anemo slime as if puffed out. He dared to graze his fingers over it, morbidly impressed by how noticeably it had altered his shape.

The flesh practically pushed back on his fingers, he could feel how full his stomach was under the outer layers, like the bloated gut of a decomposing carcass. He settled a hand over it, careful as to not apply any pressure, and felt the distinct motion of his stomach twisting under there, almost like a colony of critters writhing inside a trap, wrapped in a ball of cloth, squirming.

He didn't want to think about it, but his mouth was watering profusely, his tongue almost heavy with a thick coating of off-tasting saliva. He could still faintly taste the vomit he had to swallow back multiple times during his way here. Maybe it would be best to just let it out, he thought, feeling his stomach almost jump in agreement.

Diluc rose his eyes and searched his moonlit room, hoping to find anything he could drag under his bed just in case he needed it. He knew he was going to need it, and thankfully, a small bucket had been left from gods know what purpose, maybe some careless maid had left it. He was more than thankful for their incompetence now.

The young master got up, and stumbled towards the wooden bucket, momentarily kneeling in front of it as he thought of just giving up and sleeping right there, safe from the threat of dirtying his bed. His muscles ached from the strenuous walk from Mondstadt city to here, a commute he could easily muster multiple times if necessary, in a better state of mind, of course. But as of now, it left him sore and with ragged breath.

He was definitely drunk, he concluded, of the few meat skewers he had eaten, and the countless glasses of grape juice he had used to wash down the awful parts of that feast. Someone could've easily swapped his drink for wine, and him, with his taste buds fried and mind somewhere greener, would be none the wiser. For that, he swore to strangle Kaeya.

He gripped the bucket as if it was a tender neck and dragged it to the foot of his bed, then to his lap. Part of him wanted to wrap himself in blankets and just hug the bucket until relief came, but the other part barely wanted to move, so he stayed there, slumped over and staring somewhere off, trying to focus on the noises of his stomach.

“ghh…”, he groaned, nausea still swirling inside him, leaving him groggy and miserable, but quite there.

He held his mouth open, panting as he felt pain twisting his inner organs, letting saliva drip into the bucket, the sounds almost sharp in contrast with the silence. His stomach wouldn't stop writhing, loud gurgles coming from it as it tried to mix the food and drink crammed tightly inside, churning but unable to digest any of it.

The sickly man was only able to produce a few short queasy burps as he tried to flex the muscles of his throat. It frustrated him, he was sick and in pain, he needed to get whatever was harming him out but he wouldn't have it that easy. If could go back and curse his past self for cutting his vomiting spell short, he would, but for now, he could only feel miserable about it.

Why only now was his gag reflex being stubbornly strong? He was never like this. At the first sign of someone tampering with his food, he would be quick to pry it out using his fingers, just for safety. He wasn't opposed to vomiting, maybe a little apprehensive about it, but it was something he learned to face as a necessary evil.

Diluc looked at his hand, thinking long and hard about if it would be worth it. He was still wearing his gloves, the bright red and black fabric stood out against his pale marked skin, it was surprising how he managed to miss it.

He had to, he thought, remove the glove with his teeth and set it aside. Shakingly, almost timidly, he raised two fingers and introduced them inside his mouth, carefully trailing the extent of his tongue. It felt awfully warm and tender against his skin, saliva coating his fingers in a thick slimy layer.

“...ha… guh–”, he let out as he reached the gullet, causing a weak gag to make his throat clench around his fingers.

He couldn't stop now, so he went even deeper with the middle one, feeling around the soft meat writhing against his touch. He started stroking his tongue, slowly at first, driving his fingers in and out of his throat. It didn't take long for him to gag harshly, his stomach jumping and landing with a wet slosh, sending its contents crawling up his food pipe.

It wasn't enough to get him to vomit. He kept stroking desperately, his throat clenching, trying to choke out his fingers. He gagged again, so harshly his eyes watered. His stomach inching closer with each stroke.

He waited for another painful gag, the sound of his forced retching scrapping at his throat, leaving it raw and tender. Saliva flowed into the bucket, each harsh cough sending it spraying into his hand, sliding down his skin, and slithering towards his wrist.

He was close, he thought, forcing another gag and quickly retrieving his hand as a wet belch erupted out of him, bile prickling his tongue. So close.

“...ughh… gh…”, he panted, his mouth hanging open as a series of short wet burps left him, each bringing him closer and closer to finally– “huurk–”, he anticipated a small gush of vomit spraying out of him, nearly missing the wooden bucket in his lap as he readjusted his position.

There it was. Diluc nearly winced at the pungent taste of acid on his tongue, it barely resembled grape juice as it fell into the bucket, but he could still distinguish its taste. Far worse than what he had swallowed before.

He went back to stroking his tongue, hoping to rid his stomach of a little more pressure, as that amount meant nothing. This time he wasn't being so gentle, digging his fingers mercilessly into his throat as he felt himself getting desperate.

”...huu… urgGGHH”, he retched into his bare hand, his stomach writhing from the violent motion, but he didn't stop until he felt its contents bubbling at the back of his throat. “BuuUuuUURGHHhh.”

A gush of thin disgustingly warm vomit shot out of his mouth before he could retrieve his fingers, he nearly winced as the sickening boiling concoction completely coated his hand. It dripped unevenly inside the bucket, barely a cup's worth of semi-fermented and acidic grape juice.

Diluc shakingly held his soiled dripping hand over the bucket, panting miserably with threads of drool hanging from his mouth.

He must have looked truly pitiful as he was now, barely dressed, sickly and pale, and even then, struggling to get the offending poison out of his system. His head felt heavier and heavier, his eyes wanting to roll to the back of his skull as his body begged for rest.

His throat was sore and bruised from all the abuse, and still, he hadn't even tapped into the food he'd stuffed into his overtaxed stomach. It gave a low ill growl as it agreed, almost coaxing him into continuing.

With a defeated grumble, Diluc shoved the now cold and slimy fingers into his throat, just the sensation of it, the odd shock of temperature, and the texture of his saliva against his tongue earned a weak unproductive gag out of him.

He tried not to think about it, taking the involuntary motion of his gullet to introduce his fingers even deeper, moving them as if he was trying to pry himself open.

“...ah… ha…”, he panted, trying to squeeze in struggling wet breaths in between audible gags, the air rushing in and out grazing his skin. “hah–”, wheezing with half a hand down his throat maybe had been the answer to his problems, as he nearly choked.

Diluc didn't have it in his mind to muffle the coughing fit that followed, he didn't even bother to remove his fingers, choosing to hold his tongue down as he kept hacking over the bucket. His fit quickly evolved into retching so violently his shoulders were jumping with each one.

“...urggGH–”, he coughed out, feeling something painfully dense climb up his food pipe, cutting his breath short as he struggled with it. His hand was trembling, his nail digging into his tongue out of nervousness

It took a couple of weak shivering strokes for him to finally feel vomit burst out of his mouth, a lumpy dense slurry covered his hand and sprayed up to his upper arm, lumps of nearly untouched food sliding off him and dripping softly on the bucket.

Once he started, there was no stopping it. A heavier wave of vomit splashed inside the bucket followed the first, this one more than just a mouthful, adding a new layer of filth to the bucket.

“EeeeuUURRrrrgh!”

Diluc had his eyes screwed shut as he struggled with each new surge of chunky almost sharp vomit leaving his throat razed. He could feel so clearly the lumps grinding the walls as they left him, pouring into the bucket like unrelenting rain on the roof of his house. His hearing was muffled.

When he could finally breathe properly he found himself slowly slipping forward, the bucket now glued to his chest as the arm laced around it bent awkwardly. Diluc parted his lips only to find two fingers jammed in between them, his teeth buried into them.

He blinked, and how long had passed? Maybe less than a minute, he hadn't properly fainted but still, he desperately needed rest.

Diluc let out a shuddering breath as he adjusted himself, one look at the bucket had his lips hitching into a grimace as he spat out, trying to rid his mouth of the vile taste.

“Fuck… ugh”, he groaned, his voice a husky pained whisper.

At the very least, he had managed to rid himself of some of that cursed food, but he didn't have the chance to savor the relief. He didn't feel any different, arguably he felt even worse.

That didn't matter now. He'd have to deal with that in the morning. Diluc settled the bucket under his bed, not enough energy left in him to even think about getting rid of it.

His body sunk into the mattress, the wooden frame creaking despite how light, shriveled he felt. As soon as the back of his head hit the pillow, he welcomed sleep.

***

#emeto #emetophilia #vomiting #overeating #light stuffing #fainting #induced vomiting #gen/shin imp/act #di/luc #mentioned kae/ya #mentioned je/an #mentioned am/ber #hurt and discomfort #stomach ache whump #nausea #tw alcohol mention #requested #dana//emeto fic #my writing

[just-eyris-things]

Can I get all the preferences from the jumbo asks for my sweet baby boy Airell?

Yes. Yes, you can!

cw: bugs and eating bugs, some might find this disgusting.

adding read more because long-ass post ;w;

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

Airell loves most of music genres, he is a bard himself. He loves when the songs tell tales. He doesn't like too repetitive stuff, like Bash the Dragon song. He enjoys the festival, though.

His favourite colours are green and purple/violet. He's not a fan of orange, but he admits that it can look nice sometimes.

Airell likes warmer climates, but chilly weather is also nice. They like snow and think it's a lot of fun, but they don't like being exposed to it for too long. This changes to indifference post HoT.

Airell loves hylek cuisine. Ever since they got a taste of chak, they love adding it to their own dishes. They don't like apples, but might eat them if there is nothing else to eat and they're hungry. Similarly to majority of my characters, Airell has a sweet tooth.

🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

Airell's favourite is the grub and chak stew! They love the crunchiness of the chitin and the chewiness of the insects themselves! Also they claim that chak goo is perfect for making jelly for desserts and they love baking. Airell always reminds everyone to be careful with chak, because they're quite tricky to work with in the kitchen.

What is your OC’s most hated food? Stuff they can’t stand to eat or drink?

brocolli. Airell absolutely hates the texture he would rather down an expired karka dipped in toxic waste from inquest labs than eat it. He has a similar reaction to brussells but simply because he hates how the name of that vegetable sounds.

🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

Airell's special place would be the Ameyalli temple beneath Jaka Itzel. He was taught that it was a significant place for the Itzel, so he grew to love it too. In there he feels like he belongs and he forgets that he's actually all alone. Faith in the Jungle goddess makes his life easier. He feels the connection to the Jungle itself and he would hate to lose it. He always goes there when he's troubled or needs to relax.

Is there anywhere your OC hates to go to? Anywhere that stresses them out or have negative memories of?

The fallen and rotting tree that we know as the Heart of Thorns, the place where they lost someone they held dear. Airell feels like they've lost a part of themselves and they hate to even think of that place. The world is cruel, though. They have to come back there at some point and face what they've done, even if their actions were unintentional. Airell's reawakened the Tree and made it sprout new plant people. They have to take the responsibility, no matter how painful it is.

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!).

It's Trahearne. Trahearne taught Airell everything he knew, from necromancy to many unspoken rules of living in central Tyria. Trahearne was also the second person Airell has met that believed them when they said they were from the West. Airell also used to be Trahearne's apprentice for a while before they actually started dating. Even after HoT, when their paths...separated, so to speak... Airell never forgets Trahearne nor their feelings for him.

Who does your OC absolutely hate, the one person who they’d sell to Satan for one corn chip? Why do they loathe this person so?

There is a lot of self-loathing in Airell, but there is also a grudge against Nia. While they are thankful that she took over the Pact, they think she should have tried harder to save Trahearne.

They also hold a grudge against Rytlock because he is blamed for Eyris's death. As Airell is really close with her, knowing that Rytlock is responsible makes them on edge and the only reason they let him breathe is because Eyris asked them to stand down.

📙 What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or that they can talk for hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?

Airell loves talking about music and travel, as well as cooking. He also really enjoys listening to others talk about their passions, even if he doesn't know much about them himself.

What things bore your OC to tears and they couldn’t care less about? Why?

He's not a fan of politics. As a commander he had to suffer through it, but ever since he retired he is much happier. Another topic that bores him is golemancy. He thinks minions are much better, but I'd say it's just a necromancer's bias.

Additionally, he really doesn't like listening about human gods. Trahearne used to tell him a lot about them when they were traversing Orr together and ever since their parting Airell can't stand hearing about them even by accident. It's dredging up painful memories.

#mytalikes #airell