#I just went back to eating meat to try gaining weight and also I never stopped dreaming of hot wings

[creepyscritches]

It's so funny how I used to be a rigid vegetarian for years but I have never thought something was too cute to eat like I'll bite a cow it's true cute things taste better come here

[bucks-babe]

More to Love

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky wants to take care of you in every sense of the term; so what if you gain a bit of extra fat because of it?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of past relationships, kind of told in flashbacks, shitty ex boyfriend who forces reader to lose weight (not Bucky), Bucky is so in love it hurts, Bucky takes care of his woman, body insecurity, weight gain because of a healthy relationship, smut, CMNF (only for a little bit), looking in the mirror while on Bucky’s lap (yes, that needs a warning), crying during sex, daddy kink, soft!dom Bucky, so much fluff, no use of Y/N, Bucky calls reader love, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), implied creampie, Bucky loves his girl’s tummy, emotions.

A/N: This is NOT fetishizing weight gain, nor unhealthy habits. Bucky is not forcing the reader to gain weight to make her attractive to him; he loves his girl at any weight and just wants to take care of her. I made this fic because I want to feel like the parts of my body that I’m insecure about can still be desirable. Also this turned out way softer than the drabble, but there is still smut going on. Thank you to the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however, any and all mistakes are my own.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, you have noticed how different he is compared to your previous partners. Not just because he is a 6 foot something brick house, but also in the way he treats you. You’ve never experienced such raw and untamed love directed solely at you, or the way his eyes seem to bore into your soul, memorizing every quirk and tick you possess. It’s almost overwhelming how much he loves you.

Never before have you felt so comfortable in a relationship. Previous boyfriends never really felt like boyfriends, rather personal trainers. Maybe you were bad at picking them out, but your last partner was a gym rat, constantly obsessing over what he was eating and how many hours he put into the gym that week. The obsession he had for the gym followed through into your relationship. If you wanted to spend time with him, it had to be at the gym. 

He would construct fitness plans for you, saying that the softness of your stomach needed to go to make him happy, and you let him. You don’t know why you let him weasel his way into your head, but he did. Eventually, it went past the gym, and he would only allow you to go to a certain restaurant to eat because the others had way too many unhealthy options, side-eyeing you for ordering a side of fries instead of a salad. Cooking at home became a battle since you weren’t supposed to eat anything fatty or fried, nothing you did was ever good enough for him. 

Over the course of that relationship you did end up losing the extra weight you had, but also weight that you didn’t need to lose, and soon you were “too skinny” and “didn’t have enough meat on your bones for him.” He left you soon after - over text. It was something along the lines of, “I wanted to see if I could make you attractive, but you don’t look good, fat or skinny.” It crushed you. The man that you thought you were in love with, and who loved you, broke your heart. You never gained the weight back, hoping against hope that he could come back and realize he was wrong about you. He never did.

It took you a long time to get over that piece of shit, but what he said about your body never left - you were still terrified to gain weight. But then you met Bucky, and for a while you forgot about that asshole. You had the sweetest, sexiest, kindest man that you were able to call yours, so why would you even think about your past?  It started so slow you didn’t even notice until it was too late. 

You groaned, stretching out in bed, arm reaching out for your boyfriend, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. Squinting, you try to open your eyes, sunlight forcing them to close. After a few tries, you get them open and look at the time - 7:19. Bucky must be back from his morning run. Searching the floor for his henley, you walk into the kitchen to find Bucky cutting up your favorite fruit in a bowl, shirtless. The both of you know that he can hear you walk up to him, hell he probably heard you the moment you woke up, but he humors you when you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder as he jumps in surprise.

“What’cha doing, honey,” you murmur into his back, peppering it with kisses.

“Makin’ something to eat after runnin’ with Steve all mornin’. Hope I didn’t wake ya up, Love.” You feel the shiver that shoots up his spine at your touch.

“No, I was just about to get up anyway, just so happens that I woke up to this sight.” 

Bucky turns only his head to look down at you, a crooked smile adorning his scruffy face, “And you can wake up to it every day. Now how about you go sit your pretty little ass down on the couch and get our show ready? I’ll be there in a minute.”

You place a chaste kiss to his cheek before slapping his ass on the way out earning a glare from him. Bucky knows that you don’t eat in the morning but he has devised a plan because you not eating in the morning will follow to you only eating at dinner tonight. 

You hear his heavy foot fall as you’re getting comfy on the couch only for him to pick you up and rest his back against the arm of the couch, setting you down in his lap, his chest to your back. He ignores your squeals and settles down. 

While you are watching your show, Bucky is watching you, and before you know it, a piece of pineapple is passing your lips. Chewing happily, you don’t even notice that Bucky has you eating until the deep rumble of ‘good girl’ is whispered in your ear. A deep throb settles in your core as you continue to eat each piece he puts in your mouth, desperate to hear his praise again and again.

That was how it started, Bucky feeding you in the mornings. But it slowly progressed from that. He was always making sure that you’ve eaten your three meals a day, no if, ands or buts. You were an Avenger after all so of course you needed to eat to stay healthy with all the missions and training you go through. Bucky noticed the pudge on your belly coming back way before you did.

“Love, what is this movie even about? I’m so confused.” The smile in his voice was impossible to miss. With him against the headboard and your back resting against his chest, you couldn’t see his face. Whatever explanation you gave, Bucky didn’t hear a word of it. As you repositioned in his lap, you sat up, just a bit, but his hands on your stomach felt it, the small bit of fat soft and warm in his hands. 

To this day you have no idea why Bucky stripped off both of your clothes and pounded you for hours, but he did, and that little bit of soft flesh made him go a little crazy.

During this time you didn’t even realize that you were gaining your weight back because for the first time since you met your last boyfriend, you had so much more energy. You didn’t need extra naps throughout the day, or feel dead tired after doing absolutely nothing. Now, your body had enough nutrients to function properly, the hump of your belly was there because you were healthy. You’ve had it all your life, nothing getting rid of it. To you it made you feel like you were fat, but to Bucky, oh, it showed him that you were a strong, healthy woman.

Everyday after training, you would boast to him about how much better you’ve been doing in training, claiming Natasha said so. Of course you have always been a very capable agent, but now that you had enough fuel to support the vigorous Avenger training, you’ve been doing better than ever, and Bucky couldn’t have been more proud; however, it all came to a head when you finally caught on to your weight gain.

Fresh out of the shower, you head over to your closet. It was no special occasion but Bucky being the perfect boyfriend that he is, wanted to take you out on a date, just because. After finding Bucky’s favorite pair of lingerie and putting them on, you huff. You don’t remember the bottoms feeling so tight. You passed it off however, thinking that maybe you did something to them in the wash.

But what you couldn’t ignore was how your favorite dress wasn’t fitting. It took way too much wiggling to get it past your hips and waist. What really set you off though, was that you couldn’t zip it. Already too tight on you before zipping, now you couldn’t get the damn thing to move more than an inch. Looking in the mirror you found the reason why the zipper refused to move. The small pocket of fat on your tummy that you thought you got rid of, was back, and larger than it ever was. 

Turning to the side, you saw just how much it was coming out. You could’ve sworn you were a few months pregnant. How could you have missed this? It took a while, but you got the dress off so you could investigate the fat on your stomach. Gasping, you tried to suck in, in the hope that it would disappear. It didn’t.

Tears sprung in your eyes. How could Bucky find this attractive? Why hasn’t he said anything about this? How could you let yourself go like this? All these horrible thoughts raced through your head, before you heard Bucky’s sweet voice through the door asking if you were ready.

All of those little moments lead you to where you are now, standing in front of your mirror crying, while Bucky patiently waits on the other side of the door, thinking all is right with the world, as yours is falling apart right before your eyes. Before you can hide yourself, Bucky opens the door. Immediately, you move to cover yourself up, disgusted with the shape of your body hoping that he doesn’t look at what you can’t cover. Bucky, however, looks directly into your eyes first, seeing the pain and tears.

In two steps he reaches you and his strong arms envelop you, hands running up and down your back. “Love, what’s wrong?” You only bury your face in his chest further. He walks back to the bed, pulling you in his lap as he sits. Your naked body pressed up against his fully clothed one. Bucky’s right palm slides down your back and he tries to squeeze your waist when you jerk away from him.

“No! Don’t touch me there!” Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest at your repulsion, not understanding why you don’t want him to touch your waist. He doesn’t let you leave his lap however, keeping you in place.

“Why, Love? What did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything. Look at my stomach, Buck!” You bite back another sob when he does, confusion written all over his face, not understanding what you’re trying to convey. “It’s FAT!” You all but scream, failing at trying to escape when his arms pull you down once again.

“Love…” He gets cut off by another sob falling from your lips. Instead of trying to talk you down, Bucky brings your lips to his and keeps your head in place. The only movement is the wobble of your lower lip as you try to contain your sobs. 

A few minutes pass by before Bucky can’t stand it anymore, and he tilts your head and moves his lips. The kiss tastes of your tears but neither of you care. Clawing at his back, you try to get closer to him, wanting him to consume you. 

When his hands trail down your sides, you pull away. Strong arms spin you around, naked back to clothed chest. The warm palm of his right hand forces you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Buc..”

“No, Love. Look at how fucking sexy you are.” With his right hand still holding your chin, his left trails down your body, stopping over the swell of your tummy. “So goddamn pretty, you know that?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck, cock twitching under your ass.

He spreads his legs, forcing yours to open as well and he groans deep and long at the sight of your pussy. “God, Love, don’t you see how pretty you are, so soft and strong and all mine.” You try to pull away, the feeling of looking at yourself too much, but Bucky’s strong hands don’t let you move an inch. “Feel what you do to me? Feel how hard my cock is?”

 It’s too much, all of it. His praise, his touch, the sight of you. More tears well in your eyes and a pitiful whine leaves you. “Can’t, Bucky. I-I…” You have to close your eyes; you can't look at yourself any longer.

“Shhh, Love, you can, baby. Let Daddy take care of you. Let him show you how pretty you are. Open your eyes for Daddy.” At his request, you open your eyes, only to find his already on you. With tears still pouring from your eyes, Bucky wipes them away before laying you down on your back. 

If there was anyone who knew your limits better than yourself, it was Bucky. He knows that having you look at yourself right now would only do more harm than good, but showing you how much he loves you is a whole different story. Before laying down with you, Bucky takes his clothes off, needing to feel you against his bare skin. “I love you so fucking much, you know that? Never met a stronger,” Bucky plants a kiss on your cheek, “more beautiful,” another kiss, “smarter, sweeter, perfect woman in all my life.” 

With each kiss you can't tell if your erratic heart is slowing down or speeding up. This is such a foreign feeling for you, such unbridled love. Your head falls deeper into the pillows, Bucky’s scent enveloping all your senses, and you can’t think properly, your brain feeling fuzzy at the heedy stare Bucky is giving you.

“Daddy, I don’t, I can’t.” You don’t even know what you are trying to say, words no longer coming to you, but Bucky does, he always knows what you need.

“I know, Love. You just need Daddy to make you feel better, make you see how perfect you are for him.” Wrapping his arms around your back, he pulls you in closer to him, both of you gasping when his hard cock presses up against your naked core. Without thought, you grind your hips up, chasing the friction of his silky skin.

“All those tears, and all you wanted was Daddy’s cock, huh? Just want Daddy to fuck you dumb, turn that little brain off for you? Don’t worry, Love, Daddy’ll take care of you.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer, not leaving any space between the two of you, the hard planes of his abdomen pressed against the soft swell of yours.

Bucky doesn’t wait for you to beg, he can’t, not now, he needs to be inside of you, lining himself up, he pushes in, inch by perfect inch.”Shit, Love, you feel how perfect you are for me?”

Your lips part, letting a breathy whine out. Bucky doesn’t wait, slowly pulling out until only his plush tip is still inside, just to roll his hips back in. “Fuck. Look at Daddy, look at what you do to him.” It takes everything in your power to open your eyes and look at Bucky, the pleasure almost too much just after one thrust, but when you do, the sight that meets you is glorious. Face flushed, brows drawn together, lips parted, Bucky looked debauched. 

“Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Without warning, Bucky rolls the both of you over, with you on his lap. “Since you listen to Daddy so well, why don’t you ride his cock, let him look at his pretty girl bounce?” This snaps you out of your stupor, there’s no way you’re going to let him see your stomach jiggle.

“Bucky, I can’t, not this way. What about the other way?” You try to turn around, but his left hand grabs your waist while his right lands a harsh slap to your ass causing you to clench around him. 

“Ah, ah, ah, Daddy wants to see your face. You hear me?” Before you can complain again, Bucky thrusts his hips up, hard. You both moan, caught up in the sensation of his cock inside of you. Your hands fly to his chest, trying to balance yourself before you tumble off. Bucky doesn’t let up, thrust after thrust, pounding into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! Daddy, right there, shit, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, just that you don’t want him to stop. The room is filled with the salacious sounds of your combined moans along with the clapclapclap of his thighs meeting your ass.

“So fucking good, Love, you know that? This pussy was made for me. Fucking perfect. Look at this little belly jiggling while I fuck you, shit, gonna make me blow my fucking load early. You’re. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Each word was punctuated by a vicious thrust. Ice pours down your spine, in the midst of pleasure you completely forgot why you didn’t want to do this position. He’s fucking staring right at your belly, hands gripping at your extra fat, just watching it ripple with each brutal thrust of his hips.

“Bucky stop, don’t look there, I don’t…” The rest of your sentence gets cut off when Bucky somehow fucks you even harder, effectively making your tummy move more. It’s too much: the feral look in his eyes, the perfect angle of his cock, and his beautiful moans. Despite your best efforts, you feel your orgasm building up. The little coil hidden under the small hump of your belly pulls tighter and tighter, and Bucky can feel it. He can feel your pussy pulsing around him so he moves his hands from your belly to your hips, grinding them against his coarse hairs with sharp thrust.

It pulls tighter and tighter until it snaps, dragging you under, blood roaring through your ears. You vaguely hear Bucky’s voice, “There you go, give it to Daddy. So good for me, soaking my cock. God, I fucking love you.” Bucky stops moving, giving you time to come down from your high. Still gasping for air, you fall down onto his sweaty chest, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You’re pulled out of your haze by Bucky. “Think you can give me one more? I think you can.”

He flips you over, back landing on the bed while he throws your legs over his shoulders, effectively causing your stomach to roll up, small pockets of fat pushing out. You whine, not wanting Bucky to see it, but he fucking loves this. Loves the bit of extra fat that has found its way under your chin, the soft flesh around your strong thighs, and the belly that fits perfectly in his hands. He loves it because it proves your healthy, that he’s feeding you well, well enough that you can train to your full potential, have the energy to do what you want to, not always be so tired you don’t want to do the things you love to do, that you aren’t afraid to eat what you want. That’s what he fucking loves, taking care of you and the way your body has changed has absolutely zero affect on his attraction to you. He will always think you are the most beautiful woman in the entire universe.

“Love, you don’t understand how fucking sexy you are, do you? Look at how well we fit together.” He cups the back of your head, making you look at your stomach as he enters you again, making your belly bulge more. “Do you see this, Love? See how pretty you are, and it's all for me, isn’t it?” The adoration in his eyes was almost too much, the swell in your chest threatening to burst as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his love with every stroke. Bucky wasn’t fucking you anymore, he was making love to you, showing you how much you mean to him. 

Bucky takes one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together, placing your hand on your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock underneath your softness. “Daddy, feels so good. Fuck. Love you so much.” Bucky’s hips stutter when you say you love him, it has always been his weakness, the utter devotion and vulnerability that you allow him to experience is something he will never take for granted. Tears were streaming down your face, eyes probably red and puffy. Leaning forward, Bucky places his forehead on yours, eyes locked into yours.

“I know, Love. Can’t even begin to describe how much I love you.” Bucky can feel you getting closer again, pussy clenching around him, hands scrambling to grab onto something: his hair, back, hands, sheets, you can’t decide, the pleasure coursing through you too much. “Give it to me Love, make your Daddy proud and cum on his cock. Know you want to, just let go.” With two more thrusts, your eyes roll back, another orgasm rolling through you. This one shorter than the last, but no less intense. Bucky finds his release right after, burrowing his face into your neck, holding you to him, wanting to be as close as possible. 

It takes a few minutes, but the both of you calm down, hearts returning back to normal. You’re the first to speak, breaking the comfortable silence. “You knew I was gaining weight, didn’t you?” With his softening cock still buried deep inside you, Bucky lifts his head up a small smirk adorning his face. 

“Of course, but this little pudge,” he grabs your tummy and almost kneads it, “is because you’re healthy. You have so much more energy recently, and I fall deeper in love with you every single time I see how fucking happy you are now. You make me so proud to be able to call myself your boyfriend. You're so beautiful and I promise you that I will spend everyday for the rest of my life proving that to you.”

You don’t have any words to respond, so you just wrap your arms around him, breathing in his scent. And of course Bucky keeps true to his promise, and you believe him when he tells you that you are the most beautiful woman because he proves it to you everyday, in and outside of the bedroom.

[lee-jinkis-ponytail]

man i need to rant a bit about kpop, tw for body dysmorphia/weight/ED discussions

my body has changed a LOT the last couple years as i deal with severe endometriosis that really limited my ability to exercise regularly. like, literally just carrying a light laundry basket up and down the stairs can sometimes bring me excruciating abdominal pain, even when i'm not on my period. forget working out. i went from doing yoga and zumba 5-6 days/week, to a few days a week, to 1 day a week, until it got so bad that i just gave up exercising entirely because it hurt too much.

i have gained almost 100lbs since my symptoms started worsening in 2021.

now that i've had surgery to remove the endo and treat the pain temporarily (until it grows back), i'm trying very gently to get back into regular 5-day-a-week exercise, which--after so long being sedentary--is so much easier said than done. i often feel discouraged and end my low-impact "beginner" workout sessions in frustrated tears because i cannot do even the most basic exercises anymore.

endo also destroyed my relationship with food. i fell into a bad habit of binge-eating on my "good" days whenever my GI symptoms eased up, which contributed to the weight gain. like, raiding the cabinets and stuffing my face with every food i could get my hands on so i could enjoy it while i was feeling somewhat ok, as opposed to my worse days, where i would barely eat more than, like, some hard boiled eggs and pretzels.

i don't mind looking at myself in a mirror, but seeing photos of myself nowadays or seeing myself in a video is... not good for my mental health.

especially as a kpop fan.

shinee are really the only boy group i listen to, and otherwise i primarily listen to girl groups.

it's gotten to a point where i had to stop watching blackpink videos because it seemed like every comeback they just got skinnier and skinnier and it really put me at risk for hating myself and developing an ED.

i like twice and sunmi because they are--or were, when i first discovered them--average, healthy weights. watching them did not make me feel bad about myself. they had a little more meat in their thighs, and it at least kept my own body dysmorphia at bay.

but idk, the pictures i've seen of them all in their most recent comebacks--between the veneers that have utterly changed the shapes of a lot of their faces (dahyun and mina are almost unrecognizable to me), and just how skeletal a lot of them look... i think i'm gonna have to stop watching them for the sake of my own mental health.

especially twice. idk, the dive photoshoot, they're just all so... bony.

and then to see netizens bodyshaming jeongyeon and even NAYEON??? recently??? during her waterbomb performance?!?! hello??? or everyone saying sunmi was too "fat" during tail era?!?! yeesh.

i'm not by any means knocking these women or body shaming them or whatever, they're all beautiful and i understand they're in an industry where beauty standards are INSANE. i am just commenting on the intensity of fatphobia in the entertainment industry in general and how it is causing issues for me personally, and i'm sure for so many other people.

and i mean i know a lot of these women have discussed how their own company-enforced diets are unhealthy and unsustainable and unrealistic, i just... idk, it's all very new to me, these feelings, and i don't like the way my thoughts are going recently. lots of "i shouldn't eat more than one meal a day," "i'm disgusting," "i need to be shaped like this celebrity woman" "i need to push myself on this exercise machine til i puke" etc etc.

i have never been susceptible to this type of thinking until recently, and it is largely in part because of how badly fatphobia is so so SO rampant throughout these fandoms.

and like, side-note, i think the return of fashion trends of the early 2000s is also making fatphobia so much more rampant. the fat-shaming then was *so* bad. and nowadays i see virtually ZERO body-positive advertisements anymore. it's all ozempic this, diet that, hoop or stepper exercise machines, this is how i lost 60+ pounds, and so on.

[unbakehisbeans]

I’ve been vegetarian since I was maybe 12-14 and vegan on and off until recently (as in I am committed to the ethical position of veganism). When I started off, it was fully for environmental reasons but I already kind of knew that I wanted to be vegan I just didn’t really understand how eggs and dairy would be harmful to the animals and also I was a teenager.

But at the same time, I had an eating disorder then and I’ve pretty much always been underweight and had trouble getting enough food to eat (I just have a really low appetite and OCD related food hang ups [ie being really irrationally afraid of choking/vomiting]). But the eating disorder predated my choice to be vegetarian/vegan, and I always understood that they were unrelated, because it was always about the ethics for me. So there was one time when I was 19 I think and I was like recovered from AN but having a lot of trouble eating because of stress and I was about to travel to Kentucky where I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat enough if I wasn’t eating meat, and I was really desperate because I was losing a lot of weight and couldn’t afford to lose anymore, and the stress of traveling always makes me lose weight anyway, so I decided to eat meat again for awhile and honestly, I thought most of it was really gross 😂. So then I went back to being vegetarian after I got home because I still wasn’t gaining weight even though I was eating meat and dairy and eggs and all that. And then because I was at home all the time because of the pandemic, I had a lot of time and space to eat enough food and so I was eating almost fully plant based and I gained a lot of weight and was really healthy and getting a lot of exercise and feeling fantastic. So I was like slowly creeping toward fully plant based and at this point I’m ethically vegan.

And then I move to another city for grad school and again I lose tons of weight because of stress and time constraints, but I’m still fully plant based. But because I’ve been struggling so much to just get enough to eat (just from being on the go a lot and not having a lot of time or a very big appetite) I do eat cheese and eggs sometimes when I’m out of my apartment. And I know that the reasonable thing to do would be to plan ahead and pack my own food so that I don’t need to eat eggs and cheese, but I am very bad at doing that I never remember and when I do OCD stuff makes it immensely stressful to eat, so I’ll eat what’s available as long as there’s no meat.

But like, even if I feel it’s necessary for me in some circumstances to eat eggs and dairy, im still vegan because you’re only ever as vegan as you can be, you know? As far as is possible and practicable. So I’m vegan and I eat a mostly, like 95% plant based diet, and all my wool is secondhand and I try to only buy vegan products (like soap and hair products and makeup and that kind of thing) which is neither expensive nor difficult, I buy cheap ass conditioner and my leave-in is Cantu which is vegan and my make up is all elf cosmetics. Idk if my shampoo is vegan bc I use medicated shampoo, and my birth control isn’t vegan, and I just get really cheap prenatal vitamins so idk if those are vegan (sometimes they use lanolin), but I use those things anyway because that’s what’s practicable for me and that’s fine, that’s still vegan. And like even bread and stuff can sometimes have animal products (generally unless you’re eating sweet bread it won’t have milk) but I eat like fortified bread and I think those sometimes have animal products, but I’m just…not that concerned about that?

I’m not much of a label-checker, and depending on what it is if it has an animal product that’s like really low on the ingredient list, I usually don’t care, lots of that is like byproduct anyway so I’m not super concerned. So I’m not doing anything extreme, I’m not spending a lot of money or depriving myself, I’m not an absolutist, I’m not martyring myself for the cause. My cat eats meat because she’s a cat and I’m not upset about it.

[debbiebeary]

Disgust and Ecstasy

1

“God, Dillon, your butt is so damn perfect!” crooned Brian between mouthfuls of his sweet, young starfish. Dillon whipped his legs around in ecstasy on the bed where, occasionally, Brian and his husband (presently at work) would sleep in together. The room was tight, but cozy inside the charming 1920’s-era character home. The last shimmers of dusk shone blue through the window and the amber glow of a lamp on the other side of the room bounced off a far wall, flooding the two writhing men in its honeyed light. “Thanks big daddy!” the handsome young cub replied, his tongue flopped out of his mouth in bliss as his heavy set daddy friend slurped between his fit little asscheeks.

Dillon was attending university in the Pacific Northwest in the Willamette valley, just over the cascades was the town of Alder Glade, where Brian worked on the school district board and was also a producer at the local theatre.

The two were drawn to one another initially through mutual attraction. Dillon was a chubby chaser. Always had been, always would be, and from the moment he set his eyes on the Nordic beefcake he was sold. Eyes sparkling blue like a glacial lake, a full greying beard unsuccessfully covering a thick neck, double chin and perky chubby cheeks. Down lower Brian had a healthy portion of fur covering his meaty chest and round pot belly.

A belly that was almost always sucked in, much to Dillon’s lament.

Brian may have been a chubby daddy, but he was what some people may call a ‘sad chub’, an ‘accidental bear’ (as opposed to an on purpose bear), a ‘reluctant fat boy’. He may have enjoyed the attention from younger men his status gave him, but if things were up to him he would have been a lean muscle bear with not an ounce of fat on him.

Dillon, though enjoying the romps with the larger daddy, (as presently he was twisted around with his back against the sheets, the big daddy bear lunging towards his erect, throbbing member, sinking down all the way to his brown bush), he couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing.

In the last year since university he had put on thirty pounds, going from roughly one hundred and thirty pounds to one hundred and sixty, if he had it his way he'd add at least another hundred pounds on top of where he was, too. He felt sexier than ever, yet as he guided his daddies hand to his softening stomach, he felt Brian scoff through his fellatio, reluctantly giving his cubby a rather passionless belly rub. He couldnt help but feel a little bit deflated in response, but he tried hard to stay hard. Turns out it was hard work.

Dillon rolled his eyes and tried his best to enjoy the blowjob. Imagining his friend stating ‘oh my, look at this belly you’re growing, fattening up nicely aren’t we, boy?’ or ‘looks like my little butterball is going to be a bear soon’ while giving his growing tummy a healthy slap. He could tell, however, this would never be the case. Brian liked him because he had just enough meat on his bones he wasn’t skinny anymore, but too much more meat would be more than the older bear could stomach. He loved his fur, his skin, his hazel eyes and mischievous smirk. He did not like his gaining fetish.

“C’mon big daddy. Rub my big belly!” said Dillon in a husky voice.

“You’re still just an otter, boy.” The daddy growled as his face was buried in his crotch between his budding fupa and thickening thigh. Dillon hated it when his daddy friend downplayed his weight gain. Total boner killer.

Dillon sighed.

“Alright Brian, time for me to fuck that fat ass.” Dillon chirped excitedly, trying to keep things interesting, especially after that intentionally disruptive comment of Brians.

Which brings us to the second issue between the two, Brian was a reluctant bottom, only taking the position so he could get his hands on Dillon’s 'still perfect' body. He wasn’t, however, particularly enthusiastic about the whole setup and sighed deeply before taking the position.

“Alright boy,” he said, sticking his chubby ass up into the air, at two hundred eighty pounds and a height of six foot three, it gave Dillon quite the mountain to climb for his prize. But as usual, that wasn’t the position Dillon wanted to take Brian. He stared and smirked in response,

"C'mon boy, I don't have all night, Ken will be home at 11."

“Naw big bear, not like that. On your back. I wanna see your big sexy belly!” Brian failed to fully hide a grimace as he flipped onto his back, his tummy wobbling slightly as he did so, only slightly, however because Brian’s abdomen was still tensed in vain, always to Dillon’s chagrin.

“Oooh fuck that’s so hot Brian!”

“Well at least someone likes it!”

“Oh god yeah I do,” Dillon said, guiding his lubed up dick towards Brian’s hole between his fluffy buns, “fuck yes I dooo!” he moaned as his cock sunk into Brian’s hole.

“fuck…” Dillon moaned as he began to rock on his knees against Brian’s chubby rear. Brian’s cheeks were red and sweat began seeping out onto his bald forehead as he was beginning to get pounded, Dillon often started slow but often reached a fever pitch. Brian's cheeks and chin began to wobble with every thrust, but those weren't the only features jiggling.

As Dillon found his rhythm he looked down at Brian’s gut, when he was being pounded in missionary there was no attempt to suck in, showing, at last, the tubby extent of Brian’s grey furred belly. The faster and harder Dillon pumped his dick into Brian the more Brian’s chunky belly began to ripple, his shallow but wide belly button beckoned him and Dillon began to finger and massage it,

“Such a sexy belly, daddy.”

“Thanks…” Brian croaked dubiously.

Dillon leaned forward and clamped his mouth around Brian’s fat moob, sucking hard on his nipple.

“Ohhhh, boy, that feels so good!” moaned Brian despite himself.

“Fuck I love nursing your fat tiddies daddy!”

As Dillon got closer and closer to his climax he released Brian’s legs and grabbed his soft, wobbling gut with both his hands, shaking it with all his might, rippling his fat as he began to pound Brian’s rear as hard as he could,

“So. Fucking. Fat!” Dillon cried out as he flooded Brian’s guts with cum.

Dillon rolled off Brian panting and Brian finished himself off quickly with his right hand and a few flicks of his wrist, snuggling up to Dillon after getting off.

Dillon had news but he wasn’t even sure he wanted to say it out loud.

“In a few weeks I’m going to Vancouver to see a feeder.” He said simply

“Dillon,” Brian responded in a concerned tone, “I’m getting worried about this fetish of yours.”

2

Dillon sighed and rolled his eyes reading Brian’s text after sending him a dick pic.

Brian: you better watch that belly, son, I don’t want it to get too big and cover your cock and your bush.

Dillon wanted more than anything for it to cover his cock and his bush. Comments like this weren’t rare either, they were getting more common, especially after his lecture about abdominal weight being bad for the heart the last time they were both together before his trip up to Vancouver.

‘Yadda yadda. Like I haven’t had that catastrophizing, clean eating, healthy heart shit crammed down my throat all my life,’ Dillon would always think when confronted with such obtuse sermonizing.

Sermonizing that was becoming more and more common in recent times and not without a cause either.

It had been three months since the feeding in Vancouver B.C., which occurred late November. The trip was a hedonistic foray with a handsome blonde bear named Hayden, who sat at a rotund two hundred eighty five pounds and had a thick slab of an overhang tantalizing Dillon between every mouthful of sea-salted chocolate caramel ice cream (lactose free). His deep, mostly smooth but only very lightly blonde-furred belly and golden skin, only interrupted by the odd mole (which Dillon thought was sexy anyhow) and dopey, thick bearded face drove Dillon to the heights of ecstasy.

Since that meeting something clicked in Dillon’s brain. Mainly his appetite. The consequence? A lot had changed. Particularly Dillon’s waistline. Brian was right to cringe. Dillon had blossomed from one hundred and sixty pounds to one hundred eighty five. The twenty five pound gain hardly went unnoticed. Classmates made fun of his double chin. He bought an entire new wardrobe. His parents were concerned. His sister across in Baltimore laughed at his chubby face over Zoom. All in all he was feeling rather pleased with himself.

He looked in the mirror and stretched his arms above his head until the shirt he was wearing rode up all the way past his bellybutton.

“Finally outgrown mediums!” He exclaimed to himself cheerfully. Cupping the belly with both hands, he lifted it from underneath, pooching it up, making the bellybutton appear deeper. He stuck his finger in. With the belly smooshed up the way it was his finger was already as far in as it would go as it did when he put it in Brian’s. He imagined himself fatter.

Brian: it’s going to be fun playing with that dick this weekend, boy.

Dillon paused. Fiendishly, he propped his phone against a cup and a shampoo bottle in front of his dorm mirror and angled his phone until it framed his belly perfectly. He took a video of himself jiggling his new soft belly, fur abound, some of it getting sucked into the black hole of his belly button. After a few jiggles get gave his little growing gut a few meaty slaps and ended the recording. He then sent it to Brian.

Brian: that’s an unfortunate look.

Dillon: how come?

Three dots scintillating in that monochromatic frosted blue inside the mellow primary blue bubble. Then they stopped. Dillon face twisted with mischief.

Dillon: is it because my belly is getting big?

Three dots. This time a response followed.

Brian: Dillon. You’re getting too fat.

Dillon’s dick sprang to attention.

Brian: You need to start hitting the gym before you get any bigger.

Dillon’s dick throbbed so hard he felt like he would faint. Through his wicked, lust-fuelled haze a seed of a scheme germinated and burst through the damp soil of his mind, a season full of conniving growth passed in an instant.

‘I wonder how much fatter I can get before I see him again?’

Dillon: how fat is too fat?

Brian: when you have the same BMI as I do.

Dillon quickly added things up, Brian’s BMI had recently gone up due to him gaining back a bunch of weight, now sitting at three hundred twenty pounds. To which he couldn’t even coax a belly pic from Brian (well, he managed to get one, but Brian was standing with ‘good posture’ and sucking in his gut so hard it made his face look constipated).

‘6’3, 320 lbs.’

‘5’11, 185…’

He played with the numbers on the BMI converter on his phone until they showed him what he needed to know.

He needed to gain one hundred pounds.

‘So be it then’

Quickly, he thought up a lie, a delicious one, and concocted a plan in his head immediately.

Dillon: oh man! I’m sorry daddy! My sister is coming over from Baltimore, haven’t seen her in a while. We’ll have to reschedule!

Brian: aww, that’s too bad cub. Have fun with your family though!

Dillon: sure thing!

Three more months of classes. He’d been sitting on his lazy ass eating cafeteria food, fast food and tonnes of soda, milk everything. It’s what caused his weight to go up so drastically in just three months. He calculated at least another twenty pounds.

‘185 + 20….’

Unable to contain himself, be brushed his growing pink nipples amongst a sea of fur after ripping his shirt off over his head in a swift motion.

‘…= 205lbs’

He had to take his hand off his dick so he didn’t cum.

He never thought he’d be over two hundred, and just in time for swimsuit season he calculated - a conservative estimate -that he would be at least five pounds over.

His next thoughts made his body operate as if on autopilot.

Dillon: hey Hayden, does your work still need an extra guy… uh, bearista? And are you still looking for a room mate? Maybe I could come up and fill both those positions. That is if they’re willing to pay an illegal American under the table.

The very thought of his plan working filled Dillon with such lust he looked in the mirror and thought about what he would look like at two-o-five.

Then he thought what it would look like at two eighty five.

He plunged his thumb into his belly button and wrapped his fingers down under his belly, he stood hunched so he gave himself an overhang to grab onto. Dropping his phone into the empty sink, he twisted his nipple with his other hand.

“Yeah, fuckin piggy. We,” he jiggled his belly to let it know he was addressing it, “we got a lot of growing to do in Canada, don’t we piggy? Yeah, I’m gonna get so fuckin fat, I’m gonna get so big it’ll give Brian a fuckin stroke!” He said, his voice getting whiny and lustful “Brian? Uh, fuck. Brian, why are you looking at me like that?”

And he mimicked Brian’s voice,

“Good-god boy! What the fuck have you done to yourself!?” a vividly imagined expression popped into Dillon’s head of a dismayed Brian looking down at an obese Dillon splayed out on his bed, fat rolls cascading down his furry body.

At that, wheezing and panting, clearly on his way to becoming out of shape, he threw his head back, stumbling backwards against the wall, and sprayed his load all over his chunky reflection in front of him.

“Oh fuck yea!”

After he cleaned up he remembered the text that sent him on his horned out fantasy. Grabbing his phone, he noticed two texts that made him want to do it all over again.

Brian: don’t eat too much with your family! You’re getting too chubby! Maybe hit the gym instead.

He’d lay into that last comment for sure. As a lie. Then he read the next one.

Hayden: yeah bud! We’d love to have you up here! I’m over 330 now and only getting bigger, maybe I’ll rub off on you a bit!

“Rub off on me? That’s the idea baby!”

[mostly-mundane-atla]

This may be a little niche, but how are pregnant people typically treated in Inuit and Inupiaq culture? How is pregnancy viewed? How do they accommodate, such as how differently do they make the clothes for maternity, and such things as that? (Feel free to delete this ask if this is not a topic you are comfortable talking about.)

You guys are on a roll asking interesting cultural questions.

Much of a pregnant person's role didn't change much. One would rest a bit more as needed, but still contributed with anything that wasn't too strenuous. Special clothes weren't needed as one's clothes were made to fit no matter how much weight was gained (and turns out loose-fitting clothes trap air which acts as incredible insulation; if I ever sound bothered about Water Tribe clothes tying at the waist it's because TRAPPED! AIR! IN! LOOSE! CLOTHES! SAVE! LIVES! when cold gets as extreme as that). Women's clothes especially had this in mind because they were likely going to have at least one full-term pregnancy and wanting as many kids as you could reasonably care for was pretty common. Another reason was that mothers of small children would strap said small children to their backs under their parkas. If you see photos of Inupiaq women with leather belts on their chests, that's why. They have a baby being kept cozy in all the fur.

There were lots of pregnancy taboos followed by Inuit women, though I believe these may have been specific to Canadian Inuit as I've never heard anything about them outside of that context. They followed the basic pattern that if you do x while pregnant, your baby will be born with y. Things like wrapping rope around ones hand or reaching out through doorways were said to cause complications in the pregnancy or birth.

There was also this one claim that I have trouble believing, and that's that they went into the first pregnancy completely blind, not knowing what a skipped period actually meant. I can believe that this may have been the case for some cultures, but I doubt it for Inuit and specifically Inupiat cultures for a number of reasons. First being that there wasn't a taboo against nudity or sex pre-christianization. The human body was a natural, physical extention of someone, all that really separated us from other animals, not something to be ashamed of or see as dirty, even in sexual situations. Sex was just treated as something people do, and while you didn't have to go out of the way to talk about it, you could be open about it. Another reason this doesn't make sense is that kids were expected to be curious, to observe and come to logical conclusions or ask if they had trouble with it. The privacy given to those with separate bedrooms wasn't a thing. Homes were warm and so were clothes so whatever you did wear in the house wasn't guaranteed to cover much. Kids were also likely to hear things in the night as they would be sleeping in the same room and maybe even the same bed set up as their parents. Finally, anything that could result in a pregancy was banned until age fifteen or sixteen due to bodies not being developed enough to handle a pregnancy, as well as any other associated health complications. So with all these things combined I find it almost impossible to believe that a significant amount of newlyweds or experimenting young people would be unable to connect the dots. Maybe a case of sarcasm lost in translation?

Also pregnant people would have diet restrictions and couldn't eat raw meat/fish. The husband was also had these diet restrictions.

Related topics:

Because babies were kept in their mothers' clothes and didn't have diapers, potty training started very early and babies learned to vocalize that they needed to go to their moms before they even really learned how to speak with words

Children didn't have to be conceived within a marriage and my grandmother was very vocal in her distaste for the term "illegitimate child" because of this belief. Much of my Inupiaq family is religious (post-christianization, King Islanders were devout Catholics) and none of them had anything to say about having kids or being born before or otherwise outside of marriage.

There is an episode of Anne with an E where the girls try to figure out human reproduction and one girl asks if it's like animal husbandry (implying the specific aspect of breeding livestock). The lack of sex ed makes complete and total sense given that the show, as with the books it was adapted from, is set in a small conservative town in Victorian Canada. If it was in a traditional Inupiaq village setting, the question would be redundant not only for the aforementioned openess in regards to the topic, but also for the language. There's no special word in Inupiatun for when it's between humans as opposed to between animals. It's all referred to as "mating."

[wolffe-simp]

A Sass in the Ass (Fluff?)

Note: I honestly had so much fun writing this, despite a cat in my lap so enjoy!

Warnings: Sass Overload, Sass-off, damn Wolffe roll those eyes harder, just a bunch of clones being kids, just a bunch of kids being clones, (Y/N) about to throw hands, Chaotic!Clones, few swears

(Y/N), Fives, Tup and Echo decide to wake up on the sass train and cause a little mayhem on base, what could possibly go wrong?

To most people, everyday is just another day, yesterday was then, now was today and tomorrow is just lurking around the corner. Nothing was special about time when it came to the lives of normal people, they just lived life as they usually did, in the safe, protective shadow of the Republic army. They lived without the knowledge that they were in fact, relying on a bunch of bloody children in mens' bodies. As they lived their normal lives, somewhere among the towering building of Coruscant, lay the clone barracks, a place that seemed quite from the outside until....you walk through its front doors.

"Get back here!"

"Who ate my kriffing yogurt?!"

"Ew, she licked me."

Chaos erupted in the mess hall, many voices overlapping each other, each sentence as chaotic as the last and in the midst of it all was a certain commander who quite frankly, was so done with everyone at this kriffing table. Cody stabbed at his food while Tup wrestled with (Y/N) who was trying to lick the tear tattoo from his face after he said "pfft, you wouldn't lick me." to which proceeded to the female proving otherwise.

Fives was ranting and raging about his toffee yogurt going missing which (Y/N) had brought him from her homeworld, which Dogma had snuck under the table and was currently eating. All while Waxer and Boil chased Kix around the hall, trying to stop him from killing Echo over a joke about people paying electricity bills and life support to which the 501st medic flew into a rage but Cody wasn't entirely sure what had been said. So he just blankly stared at his troopers chasing Kix, chasing Echo, wondering when he would have to stop babysitting them all. He wanted to just walk away, take his food to his room and scream into his helmet but he knew he couldn't leave them unattended, because General (Y/N) was far from capable of being the "adult".

"Ack! Gross! That was my ear!" Tup suddenly shrieked.

(Y/N) jumped away from him, spitting, gagging and making dying noises as her fingers clawed at her tongue. It seemed that the general and Tup had been wrestling sloppily enough for the female to accidentally lick the inside of the arch troopers ear. The sight, almost made Cody crack, almost.

"Why did you move your head? Ew, it tastes so bad, Tup you are definitely not a yummy boy." (Y/N) cried dramatically, causing Fives to stop his ranting about his yogurt.

"Exqueeze me?!" Fives squealed dramatically, putting a hand on his hip and clicking the fingers of his other hand while his voice went up and octave or five. "I don't know who you think you are but my vod is scumdidilyumptious, you harpy."

"Harpy! That's not what yo donor was saying to me last night."

"Bish, that man is dead, Windu went all Queen of Hearts on his ass and said OFF WITH HIS HEAD."

"Damn, must have just been one of your hotter brothers."

Just as Cody was about to slam his head on the table, a tray of food was suddenly slammed down in front of him, causing the commander to lift his head. At the sight of Wolffe's face, he couldn't have been happier, maybe with the other commander here, things will start to calm down. Wolffe was joined by his troopers as well, Sinker, Boost, Comet and Warthog. The pack was well known for their composure effectiveness and sometimes their.....PHUT!.....explosive anger.

Warthog had barely sat down when an empty yogurt pot came flying at his head, hitting him square in the head. His head snapped in the direction of a now terrified Dogma, the two staring one another down until Warthog suddenly sprung from his seat, chasing a now screaming Dogma from the mess hall, followed by Fives who had now found the culprit to the yogurt theft.

"Wolffe, I beg you, save me." Cody pleaded to his fellow commander.

Wolffe chuckled deeply, stabbing a piece of leathery meat with his fork and shoving it in his mouth. Deep down, he was highly amused by the situation, he and his vods had been watching the chaos from the lunch line, wanting to come and watch Cody suffer under the weight of the chaos.

"Sorry Cody, this just isn't my area of expertise." The 104th Commander apologised with fake sympathy, swallowing his mouthful.

"No, his area of expertise is ending up in general (Y/N)'s quarters." Sinker snickered from next to Boost.

Wolffe groaned and rolled his eyes as Sinker and Boost laughed, thinking of all the ways he could punish them for making that comment.

"Wait, (Y/N) and Wolffe?" Echo panted out, coming to a skidding stop, holding his side from a stitch. "pfft, would never have guessed...."

Before he could say anymore, he was suddenly tackled to the ground by Kix, the action surprising Waxer and Boil to the point where they tripped over the now wrestling 501st troopers, creating a clone dog pile.

"No idea where you are getting your information Sinker but Wolffe isn't my type." (Y/N) huffed from her spot, having recovered from her recent accident with Tup.

"Funny, that's not what you were screaming last night." Wolffe retaliated with a wolfish grin, amber eyes glinting with a mischievous look.

Cody choked on his food, Tup fell off his seat out of shock, laughing along with Sinker and boost who were in absolute hysterics while Comet just looked on in confusion, clearly oblivious to the conversation because of how focused he had been on his food.

"Funny, you were on the bottom, acting like a puppy getting all the love and attention he had been begging for hours to get." (Y/N) Sassed.

"Your such a pain in the ass." Wolffe grumbled, rolling his eyes again.

"No, I'm a sass in the ass."

"Dank Farrik! Can a man not eat in peace?! Can you all just shut up....for two...kriffing minutes." Cody exploded, finally having enough.

"By the sith Cody! You trying to throw hands? you don't have to be so rude about it, you could have asked us to stop." (Y/N) exclaimed.

And that was how Rex walked into the Mess hall to the most blinding sight, mashed potato straight to the face. The captain groaned and wiped the sloppy mess from his face, eyes going wide at the scene in front of him. Kix and Echo were wrestling on the floor, Waxer and Boil trying to pull them apart. Tup, Wolffe, Comet, Sinker, Boost and (Y/N) were all behind upturned tables, using them as cover as food was thrown their way, also throwing food from their positions. Dogma ran in front of him, still screaming as Warthog gained on him, shouting profanities. Jessie, who had been accompanying him, walked in after him and laughed at the scene before deciding he wanted a piece of the action before they were all caught and punished. But what shocked him the most, was seeing Cody standing in the middle of the madness on one of the tables, letting out war cries as he flung food left and right. Most of the other clones in the hall were either taking cover or retreating. Taking inspiration from them, Rex decided to slowly back out of the room and turn tail, pretending that he hadn't seen it, he was so not putting up with this shit today.

[chubbyjungkook]

Maybe i like it

It was a winter evening where Jungkook and his mother were waiting for Jungkook's childhood best friend and his crush  .Jimin had moved to Seoul since he was a teenager leaving jungkook in busan , they kept in touch after that so much year . Jungkook was moving with jimin after being accepted in university and jimin offered to move to his flat .

Jimin arrives running , even though they videocall pretty often jungkook couldn't help but staring at jimin's face , he always thought jimin was handsome but now he looks gorgeous . 

"I'm sorry for being late , the traffic was terrible , good evening jungkookie and mrs. Jeon '' he bowed and smile warmly at them 

"Oh god , jimin you change a lot since the last time i saw you , you are all grown up " mrs. Jeon chuckle while looking at jimin

"We both did , it's been so long since jimin hyung left "jungkook say the last part with a really fake sad tone making jimin laugh as he brush the younger's hair 

" well , just come here to leave jungkookie and my train leaves in 20 minutes " she sigh turning back to his son and hugging him tightly , jungkook hugged her back " Please jungkookie take care,ok ? Don't skip meals and sleep early , ok ? And don't forget to call home often " 

"I will mom , don't worry " his mom pull away from the hug and look at him grabbing his hand " I let jungkook come to seoul because i know you are going to take care of him and if you can try to put some meat on his bones , no matter how hard i try to tell him to stop exercising so much and skipping meals he just ignore me he is really stubborn " she laugh seeing her son look indignant expression 

"I'm not stubborn , mom ! " he pouts, offended , jimin laughs, " don't worry mrs. Jeon i will take care care of him and make sure he eats well " 

After Jungkook's mom left , Jimin helped the younger with his luggage as they looked for a taxi talking about things and how excited Jungkook was about his first day . The journey was really short when they arrive they were really tired 

"Oh man , i'm so tired " he yawns while sitting in the sofa " i can show you your room so you can unpack your things and get comfy " jungkook nodded taking his luggage with him , the room was clean and warm " this room look so comfy hyung " jimin smile at him " im glad you like it , im gonna order some food im sure you are hungry i call you when it arrives " jungkook hummed as he started unpacking his clothes 

Jungkook unpacked some all of his clothes and change his jeans into some sweatpants and a oversized black t-shirt , he went to the living room and jimin was putting the food on the coffee table 

"Oh jungkookie , i was about to call you to have dinner come on sit down " jungkook did at he was told while looking at all the food 

"Hyung isn't it a bit too much for just the two of us ?" There was a lot of food in the coffee table : 3 boxes of pizza,chips,chicken and coke its was a lot for just two people 

" I got a good discount , we can save what we can't finish for tomorrow, '' he answered softly. Jungkook shrugged satisfied with the older man's answer , he grabbed a slice of pizza and shoved it in his mouth , they were watching a film while eating .

When he movie was ending , jungkook squirmed uncomfortable he was so focused on the movie that he doesn't realize he had eaten almost all the food , there was still some slices of the last pizza and some coke in the coffee table and a lot of wrapped too 

" you can have the rest of the pizza if you want " jimin say as he push the box closer to the younger  

"You don't want it ? I'm full hyung " jungkook rub his swollen tummy trying to ease the pressure on his stomach 

"Nah , im full too " he lied , in fact  he just ate two slices of pizza and some coke " but you have a big appetite , i'm sure you can't fit the rest of the food in there " he poked jungkook's tummy , laughing when he saw the younger's cheeks blushed 

Jungkook  grab the slice of pizza and start eating it when he finish the rest of the pizza he was lean back in the sofa , his belly was really swollen and it hurts , the waistline of his sweatpant were cutting painfully into his tummy, he whined in discomfort , he feel like he was gonna pop , he try to rub his belly to stop the discomfort even tho it didn't help that much . 

"Are you ok , kookie ?? " when jungkook see his hyung face , his eyes were full of concern 

"I-i just eat t-too much "he blushed fuck he doesnt even know who he managed that much his belly groan in discomfort 

“oh kookie ...do you want me to help ?” Jungkook doesn't know how jimin would help him but he nodded , jimin lift him and put him on his lap and started rubbing his belly. The older´s hands feel good  easing the pain. He closed his eyes on pleasure ? 

He suddenly burped loudly when Jimin pressed a hard spot on his belly . His cheeks blushed too embarrassed to look at his hyung , he would probably be disgusted but jimin unbothered continued rubbing his belly he burped a few more times when the pressure on his gut stopped and it became a warm and enjoyable sensation it was confused but he really enjoyed it .

" do you feel better, Kookie ? " jimin ask on a soft tone his thumb tracing back and forth gently

" y-yeah , thank you hyung" he try tried to avoid his voice from being shaky, failing pathetically

"How about you go and rest ? I can't clean all of this don't worry " his soft expression towards him , he gets up and helps jungkook to get up too 

" ok , thanks hyung , good night " he smile softly at him 

" night kookie "he waved smiling him back 

Jungkook waddled slowly to his room ,he changed into his pajamas and he saw himself in the mirror looking at his swallow belly. He pressed his finger on it , it was still kinda hard from all the food . Fuck he had really overdid it , he had never eating so much and the thing that freak him out the most was the fact that he actually enjoy it , the warm feeling on his middle was almost pleasurable . He shakes his thought off and lying on his bed rubbing his belly until he feel asleep 

------------------------

The following weeks Jimin made sure Jungkook was being well-feed , making sure that he always had food near him and after all of those weeks of indulging some chances were seen on the younger's body .He had gain a noticeable amount of weight on this time , his adbs melted on a proud belly , his once muscular thighs were now thicker , rubbing each other when he walk , his cheeks had get chubbier making him look cute . Also his appetite had grow and jimin make sure he handle him some snack while he was doing homework 

Jungkook wasn't blind about his obvious weight gain which at the beginning was surprising since in his whole life he was fit but suddenly he gain so much weight but then he realized maybe he like how softer he had gotten or how much he liked the pleasure feeling when he is stuff to the brim

But jimin was also liking the younger´s changes , he had always been touchy with  jungkook but lately he couldn't stop himself from hugging or touching discretely his tights or just pinching his cheeks , he was just so cute and sexy for his own sake 

-------------------------

That morning jungkook had a class in the afternoon and he was currently struggling to pass his jeans from his knees ,getting out breath just by the small action but he finally manage to do so but now he had a new problem his plush tummy was getting on the way making it difficult to button his jeans , he sighs loudly as he started trying to button it when he hear the older knock the door 

"Come in " he answer as he continue trying to button the jeans 

"Kookie , are you ok ? "He ask in concern as his cheeks blushed at the younger on a way too tight jeans and his tummy making it hard to close them 

"Yeah , i'm just trying to close this jeans but it's so difficult " he mumbled as he sighs again 

"Can i help you , kookie ? " he says as he got closer to the younger as he saw jungkook nod " suck your belly in , it might more easier that way "the younger did was he was told struggling a bit but the older notice so he button the younger's jeans as quickly as he can watching the younger smile 

" Thanks for helping me hyung " he smiles trying to ignore how tight his pants feel as he sits down on his bed to put his shoes on when he hears a loud pop , he looks down realizing that he had popped the button making him blush madly feeling amazed about the fact that he got fat enough to pop a button but at the same way he feeling scared that the older feel disgusted by him  . 

The older eyes widened as his cheeks blushed too realizing how much weight jungkook had gain that he popped a button , there was a pregnant silent between them as the younger feel like he would break into tears if jimin doesnt say something but luckily he did 

He hope he wasn't reading the younger wrong but he always notice the way jungkook "discreetly " stared at his body at the mirror and how he enjoy stuffing himself so he decided to say was he always wanted to say to the younger

"Fuck …. Thats hot " he mumbles as got closer to jungkook watching the younger's cheeks blushed madly 

"Y-you think is hot ? "He ask softly blushing even more when he feel the older rubbing his soft tigh making him bite his lip softly

"Of course …. And i'm sure you do too , i haven't miss the way you look at yourself at the mirror or the way you enjoy indulging yourself so much , baby ~" he whispered near the younger's ear as he rubs the younger's tummy softly hearing him gasp in surprise 

"Fuck ,yes i do " he mumbles as he push his tummy against the older's hand 

"God , jungkook i like you since we were on highschool and now fuck you had gotten so soft that i can help my hand to myself " he hear the younger let out a small moan when he squeeze the younger's lovehandles

"I-i … also like you since highschool ,you had gotten more hot since there " he mumbles shyly as he feel jimin leaning forward kissing him passionately after pulling away to catch their breath as they suddenly heard jungkook's belly rumble in hunger making him blushed 

"Looks like someone is hungry already ~ how about you skip classes today and we order some food , uhm ? " he mumbles as he squeeze the younger's cheek 

" i like the idea " he chuckled softly as he saw the older grab his phone and order some fast food 

That night jungkook end up stuffed past his limits as he older rub the younger's tummy, pressing his fingers on it making him blench loudly as jimin mumble soft praises at the younger , jungkook was sure he could get use to it 

[maggotmouth]

          hillo sexthy legends !!   i’m nora and i’ll be writing margo colby n probs sm1 else bcos lets be real, i lack self-control. u can find her pinterest here n some info abt her sexy self below the cut. plot with me on discord ( hot girl midsommar#8664 ) or in my ims !!  x o x

     * CAMILA MORRONE, CIS WOMAN + SHE / HER  | you know MARGO COLBY, right? they’re TWENTY-THREE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, ELEVEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to SCRAWNY BY WALLOWS  like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole BLEACH WHITE SNEAKERS POUNDING ON A GYMNASIUM FLOOR, USING THE SAME BLUNT SCISSORS TO HACK THE SLEEVES OFF AN EXES T-SHIRT THAT YOU USE TO CUT YOUR 3AM FRINGE, A WALNUT-SHAPED ACHE IN THE PIT OF YOUR STOMACH FOR THE PERSON YOU COULD HAVE BEEN thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 8TH, so they’re a LEO, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nora, 25, gmt, she/her )

CLICK ANYWHERE ON THIS SENTENCE FOR SEXII GOOGLE DOC!!

bullet point summary of margo.

—   born margaret but NOBODY calls her that. its colby, coach or margo, and go to the privileged few. margo grew up in the creek commune n then dropped out of school cos of a teenage pregnancy so she was a bit of a cautionary tale back in’t’day (said tht in my yorkshire accent). she now works for summer camps coaching pee wee soccer and pee wee cheer, as well as helping out her beekeeper dad on his honey farm, which is jst north of abernathy creek, and working at scuba on the off seasons.

—  its just her and her dad, and has been for as long as she can recall !! everything she knows about her mum could fit on the back of the weathered passport photo she keeps in her wallet of a stranger who shares her face - her name’s melody, or at least tht was name she used when working as a dancer, she’s from argentina and dropped mag’s dad as soon as someone w more money came along.

—  margo’s father is a beekeeper with his own organic honey company. margo and her dad moved to irving in the early 00s, the summer between grade school and middle school, because her dad had heard about the communal living in abernathy creek and wanted to lend his skills there and live off the fatta the land in a very lenny from of mice and men kinda way.

—  for a few years of middle school margo was bullied for living with the ‘freaks from the creek’, but when they realised how chill her dad was with underage drinking, margo ‘keg-bringer’ colby soon gained popularity among the more renegade students. every so often, the high school parties would happen at her end of town, occasionally with members of the commune even offering the high schoolers a spiritual experience they’d never forget (often in the form of mushrooms) which meant people tried to stay on her good side. to get an invite to a margo colby party handed you a free pass to make up the most ridiculous shit about the commune you liked and nobody else could say anything, because they’d never been to the creek.

—  at school, margo had a lot of ‘behvioural issues’ bcos of undiagnosed adhd, she found it difficult to sit still for hours n write down huge chunks of information n her restlessness was seen as laziness. she was encouraged to do sports, as were most of the kids who weren’t that academically inclined, but she turned out to be pretty hot shit at sprinting, because she grew up surrounded by bee houses and he who runs slowest gets stung, baybeyy!! so yea, in school sports became her LIFE. she was gonna get a sports scholarship to college but ended up dropping out of school in senior year n becoming one of those kids who could have had it all but lost it.

—  she had sex with sutter at a house party when she wasnt really ready because it felt like the right thing to do at the time and everybody else was doing it. she’d attended health class, she’d seen the corny videos. she knew about all the statistics, but she also knew that it had never happened to anyone she knew and the pull out method was basically safer than the morning after pill and way less expensive.

—  a teenage pregnancy knocked her out of the runnings for prom queen and meant she had to leave school early. she didn’t go to college when her friends did, instead she spent the time interviewing potential foster candidates and eating her weight in lindt chocolate while marathoning love island in her room.  

—  she had a son, who she passed off to someone else a couple of towns away.  it was a closed adoption which seemed like the best idea at the time, but she now wishes she had access to his life.

—  after peaking in high school and jumping between jobs for a few years, she got a more permanent role at scuba which she loves with all of her heart and soul, but unfortunately a bar job doesn’t pay the rent.  

—  she works at summer camps coaching  junior soccer and netball on the side. she’s extremely competitive and takes it very personally if her team lose. the kids all call her, coach colby n write her longwinded letters about how they’ll never forget this summer camp before they go back to their suburban picket fence houses n she keeps all the letters in a drawer n takes them out to read when she’s feelin depressed.

—  enjoys surfing and worked for a number of years on resorts like mila kunis’ job in forgetting sarah marshall. she went on to work 18-hour days as a stewardess on luxury yachts which is a part of her backstory i added after watching season one of below deck because i guess i really am that fucking impressionable. met most of her surf friends doing tht but said she’d never in her life do it again bcos it was mostly just picking up after rich white ppl for shit pay. she came back to irving n thats when she started doing the summer camp jobs so she could move out of the creek n get her own apartment. 

—  she never actually finished senior year so she’s currently going to night school at the community college to get through her exams and is trying to save to go to college or open university. she wants to major in criminology. she’s super ambitious but also super adhd so she fluctuates between thinking she can achieve anything to just feeling like a failure n thinkin whats the point

—  used to shoplift to feel joy and as an act of resistance to her hippy commune routes, but now sees herself as a reformed, bin-diving freegan (sims 4 eco living can i get a hell yaaaa). also she thinks it’s totally wrong to steal when you have enough money and clearly don’t need to steal to survive, ppl risk imprisonment for basic necessities, so for her to do it for a brief thrill and some new shades felt a bit derogatory

—  was raised jewish. became a vegetarian as a child because it seemed, at the time, easier than having to explain which foods she was and wasn’t allowed to eat together, so she just cut out meat entirely. still a vegetarian now and dabbles in veganism, although its become less about not eating certain meats in the milk of their mother and more about her global impact / carbon footprint

—  nurses little animals to health in her garden. has a hedgehog name OJ short for orange juice not the other one filthy pig. her and her dad have always been huge animal rights activists and existed on a vegetarian diet. the only one in their house who isn’t vegetarian is their cat, auggie. (short 4 augustus gloop)

—  has a lot of stupid ass stick and poke tattoos. there was a phase during her years as a barmaid where she wanted to train as a tattoo artist n would mostly practice on herself or any friends who would let her

—  she doesn’t form many long lasting friendships cos she tends to be super excited when she makes a new friend and just see them all the time but then it wears off and she can ghost a bit. she’ll always coming pinging back but she’s not the most predictable or loyal friend, sometimes she’ll sleep in your house every night for a week and then you won’t even get a text from her for a month. her best friends are elderly neighbours and houseless people she meets when volunteering at the foodbank. she thinks they’re more authentic than most of the ‘fake posers’ she meets down the vela pier

—  calls herself a butch lesbian but still has sex with men when she wants validation. sexually attracted to some men, especially effeminate men, but only romantically attracted to women. very possessive of the gals in her life.

—  stopped giving a shit about getting older or adhering to anyone elses bullshit standards, realised it was all fake p much as soon as she dropped out of school and one by one her friends just stopped texting her

—  lives in one of the lofts in port apartments. it’s open plan with rugs and lava lamps everywhere. she has a palette bed. its all very ‘sustainable chic’. like, oh wow, a pallet bed that im supposed to think you made from scratch but i KNOW you got it  off ebay because you thought it looked trendy

—  constantly says shes poor but still buys clothes from urban outfitters. sus.

—  frequently found at fannies flirting with the cute bisexual bartender with a choppy black bob.

general vibe / personality

vibrant, vulgar, self-absorbed, tenacious, veers bewteen apathetic and dogmatic, temperamental, flighty, unreliable, magnetic, charismatic, passive aggressive, likes to play devil’s advocate, takes the moral high ground. estp and a leo

likes: 70s music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy, cowboy chic culture, dc comics, the smell of locker rooms,, deep red lipstick, lacrosse sticks, smoking weed from a bong, dogs, karaoke, pet rats, kate moss, late-night strolls, hawaaiian shirts worn open over a bralette, skinned knees, thai food, picking the apples at the very top of the trees, zip-lining, cigarettes, the idea of pegging but not the practical application of it, decorative lamps, LGBTQ+ pin badges, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

dislikes: girls who call other girls ‘pick me’ girls, woody allen movies, mental mathematics, wealthy children, quentin tarantino, ironing, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, ‘dump him’ feminism, wes anderson films, spoken word poetry nights, college-educated bar staff who act like they’re better than you,  indie softbois, the general mentality of cheerleading squads.

aesthetics

orange peel, the smell of bleach, skeleton drawings in the margins of a journal, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, bleach white sneakers pounding on a gymnasium floor, setting dumpsters on fire for the hell of it. a hit flask of vodka decorated with hello kitty stickers, split knuckles, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, a child in an oversize bee keepers suit, scabbed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you,  a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

hoo boy this is getting LONG AS FUCK but here are my wanted plots

wanted plots

ok margo’s been in irving since she was like 10. she’s quite a vivacious person?? she dresses completely instinctively without any sense of cohesion so she stands out. a guy once told her she was wearing the ugliest outfit he’d ever seen and he thought that was so cool and brave of her. but anyway where was i going.. she grew up in the abernathy creek so stuck out like a sore thumb,,,, maybe ppl who were super interested in the creek or maybe poked fun at her bcos of it idk.....

b4 she dropped out, margo used 2 b in with the cool kids at school bcos her dad would buy them booze and rarely ask for the money. maybe a fun plot cld b with some of the ‘it girls’ she used to hang around with b4 she got pregnant n dropped out and they all went off to college n stopped texting her.

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! some1 she feels like she knew before irving ???

since margo literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships. fwbs. enemies with benefits. all the angst. all the slow burn mutual pining we hate each other narratives

locals who play sports. margo wld be all over community soccer n take it way too seriously. maybe ppl she plays hockey with. girls who she’s like, weirdly intimate with but its not a thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

she works part time at scuba. i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry.

she's also a surf instructor and occasionally works as a lifeguard!! gal has like 7 jobs ik but regular swimmers hmu

ppl she coaches at the gym !! she wants to be a personal trainer

i reckon she might have recently started meditating to try and calm down her mind cos its always bustling with thoughts, n i think she’s p interested in buddhism so if anyone’s a buddhist hmu

someone she’s trying to make a zine with on female empowerment and women in film and art, etc. just a very feminist zine. 

TLDR:  angry sports gay, former high school track prodigy turned drop out, who likes feminist literature, wearing leather jackets over slip dresses, and smudged red lipstick.

this was so long !!! im sorry !! if you’ve read this far have a biscuit, love x

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Son of A B****

Title: Son of Bitch Square Filled: Omega!Sam Ship (if any): Sam/Dean, Omega!Sam/Alpha!Dean Rating: T Tags: Omega!Sam, ABO, Mpreg, Backgound ABO Summary: Sam goes to see the doctor thinking there might be something wrong or that he’s too stressed, Dean thinks Sam’s just starting omegapause, turns out they’re both wrong Word Count: 2201 Written/Created for @spnaubingo

Son of A Bitch

“I’m sure you’re worried for nothing,” Dean said. “Just stressing yourself out.” 

“But it could be something,” Sam replied. “I’d rather just talk to the doctor and see what’s going on.” 

“Could be omegapause,” Dean mused. 

“…Are you saying I’m old?” Sam asked. “I’m not even 40 yet.” 

“Okay, pre-omegapause,” Dean added. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Saying that isn’t actually making me feel better, Dean. If anything it’s making me think about morality and wills and burial plots.” 

“But you’re not thinking about what could be stressing you out,” Dean pointed out. “You’re welcome.” 

Sam snorted. “The way your mind works will never cease to amaze me.” 

“Sam Winchester?” 

He looked up at the sound of his name and saw a nurse standing in the doorway of the waiting room. 

“I gotta go, I’ll see you at home alright?” Sam added. 

“Everything will be okay Sam. And whatever it is, which is nothing, we will face it together. Like we always do,” Dean told him. 

Sam smiled a bit. “I know…Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Sam hung up as he stood and walked over to the nurse. “Right this way Sam. Since this is your first time seeing Dr. Sterns we have to do a couple routine tests for your file and then she’ll come in when we’re finished alright?” 

He nodded and went through the tests. He made a mental note to see about getting Dean to the doctor at some point. They were both pretty healthy, but it never hurt to have a doctor sign off on it. 

“Alright, I’ll take these samples to the lab and Dr. Sterns will be in a few minutes,” the nurse told Sam before stepping out. 

He leaned back in one of the chairs and tried not to let on how nervous he felt. He sat up straighter as the door opened and a young woman stepped into the room. 

“Sam Winchester? I’m doctor Sterns,” she smiled and offered her hand. “How are we doing today?” 

“Just trying to remember the last time I was in a doctor’s office,” he chuckled as they shook hands. “Moved around a lot for most of my life, so I’m more used to the whole free clinic, and urgent care types.” 

“Move around a lot for work?” she asked. 

“Something like that,” Sam answered. 

“Well, everything looks good, our labs are not too busy today so we should get those lab results back by the time we’re finished. I see you are a new patient with us, and you had a few concerns that prompted you coming in today. Why don’t we talk about those,” she said. 

“Right, uh it might be nothing, and it could just be me stressing out over nothing, I’ve been having trouble sleepy lately, and I’ve noticed that sometimes I get night sweats. I’ve also been getting headaches a lot more, haven’t been in the mood for sex much lately, my mate told me to mention that one, I’ve had some cramping on and off as well and some weight gain…I went online, and from what I’ve been seeing I guess I might going into pre-omegapause?” he explained. 

“If only all my patients were as thorough as you,” Dr. Sterns chuckled. “Some of the symptoms you describe can coincide with pre-omegapause. I see here you’re going to be thirty six soon, and it isn’t uncommon to start getting symptoms in one’s late thirties. However, what you’ve told me could also indicate pregnancy.” 

“Pregnancy?” Sam blinked surprised. 

That thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

“You mentioned that you haven’t had your heat in a few months? When was your last heat?” she asked. 

“Mid May,” Sam answered. “And it didn’t last as long as it normally did. Usually it’s a week long this time it is a couple days. Three I think.” 

She nodded and wrote something notes down. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is it your first thought was pre-omegapause and not pregnancy?” 

“Well…if it was going to happen for me, shouldn’t it have happened by now?” Sam asked. “I mean…I’ve been with my mate practically all my life, and we’ve always shared my heat together, when I was younger I used to take birth control, but as I got older I started having bad reactions to it so I stopped, and there are times when we’ve forgotten protection, we just kinda assumed kids were just not in the picture for us.” 

“Have either of you been tested to know for certain?” She asked. 

“We were never in one place long enough to really think about it,” Sam admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. “But…you’re saying there’s a chance I could be pregnant?” 

“There is a chance yes,” she nodded. “The blood sample will give us a more definitive answer.” Her computer chimed and she turned to look at it. “Which, it looks like we’ve got the results.” 

“I haven’t been this nervous since I applied to Stanford,” Sam smiled a bit. 

“Alright, let’s see here. cholesterol looks good, negative for any STDs or infections which is good, and the HCG levels in your blood are on the higher side, you are pregnant Sam,” she smiled at him. 

“Really?” Sam asked. 

She turned the screen so he could see. “Normal HCG levels tend to be around here, but when you’re pregnant they’ll be around here, and get higher the further along in your pregnancy. In some cases, very high HCG levels could indicate twins or even triplets. Given your age, it wouldn’t be impossible for you to have fraternal twins.  Your hormone levels are a bit on the low side which could be playing a part in why you haven’t been feeling any nausea or morning sickness. That could spike the further along you get.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Sam sat back in the chair. “Sorry,” he blushed embarrassed. “I don’t mean to swear it’s just…the fact that I might be pregnant never even crossed my mind and then to find out I am, and that I could have twins…it’s a lot.” 

“Would you like to do an ultrasound?” She asked. “See what they look like? And it’ll tell us how far along you are.” 

“Uh yeah, sure,” Sam nodded. 

He got up and laid down on the exam table and unbuttoned his shirt while she wheeled over the machine. He shivered when the gel made contact with his stomach and watched the screen. 

“And there is your baby,” she turned the screen so he could see better and pointed. “Judging by the size, you’re just about shy two months, which means, you conceived during your last heat, which explains why it was so short. Generally once pregnancy takes, the heat is finished.” 

“Wow…They’re so small,” Sam was in awe. 

“Let me print you off a couple of pictures, and I’ll write down a list of prenatal vitamins for you,” she told him. 

She gave him some tissues to clean off his stomach and he sat up to wait for her. 

An hour had him pulling down the driveway to their house. After almost two years it was still weird to know they had a house to call home. A permanent home. He pulled his car in next to the Impala and grabbed the grocery bag off the seat and locked the doors before making his way to the house. 

“Dean?” He called as he stepped inside. “Hey boy,” he knelt down to receive a few kisses from their dog Zeppelin and Sam’s still not sure how Dean won that one one. “Where’s Dean huh? Where’s he at?” 

Zeppelin barked and ran over to the sliding glass doors that led to the back porch. Sam took the pie he picked up from the grocery store out of the bag and set it in the fridge. He was pleased to see the writing on it hadn’t smeared on the drive home. He hid a few beers and soda’s in front of it. And maybe that should have been the tip off. He can’t remember the last time he had an actual drink, as he’d been drinking soda and water a lot more. 

“Hey,” Sam stepped onto the back porch. 

“Hey,” Dean smiled. “How’d it go?” 

“Good, it was uh, it was good,” Sam answered. 

“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about,” Dean turned his attention back to the grill. “Figured I’d make kabobs for dinner. I even made sure to do a healthy amount of meat and veggies so you won’t complain this time.” 

“I don’t think meat on a stick by itself really counts as a kabob Dean,” Sam pointed out as he walked over. 

Dean wrapped his arm around him as he turned the kabobs over and leaned up to kiss his temple. “Well lucky for me, pretty much the whole world agrees that meat on a stick by itself does count.” 

Sam snorted and reached for a pepper. “I’ll go set the table. We eating inside or outside?” 

“Outside, the weather’s nice,” Dean answered. “Grab me a beer too would you?” 

Sam went back into the house and grabbed the plates from the cabinet and drinks for them. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Dean putting the kabobs on a plate, and tossing a few pieces of chicken to Zeppelin. 

He could already picture Dean standing at the same grill with their little boy or girl. Talking them through the intricacies of perfect grilling. Sneaking extra food to Zeppelin when Sam wasn’t looking. 

“I know you’re there Sam,” Dean said without looking over his shoulder. 

“He’s gonna get fat if you keep sneaking him food like that,” Sam said as he set the plates on the table. 

“He’ll be fine. Ain’t that right Zep?” Dean tossed the dog another piece before he turned off the grill and joined Sam at the table with a plate of kabobs. 

“I’ve never seen so many vegetables on your plate before,” Sam teased. “And such variety.” 

“At least I’m not getting a little paunch unlike someone,” Dean mused as he picked up his beer. 

My paunch is our baby, Sam was tempted to say, it was weird to think it but it made him feel warm inside. He knew deep down Dean had always wanted a family, and Sam had always felt a little disappointed with himself that he hadn’t been able to give that to Dean despite his claims that all he needed was Sam. But now he was pregnant, and as much as he wanted to tell Dean, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise, so instead he just kicked Dean under the table. 

“Ow,” Dean reached down to rub his ankle. “Mean.” 

They finished eating in mostly silence, comfortable silence that came from years of living in each other’s pockets and Sam pushed his plate away once he was done. He covered his mouth as he burped. 

“Excuse me,” he blushed. 

“I will take that as a compliment,” Dean grinned. 

“I picked up some pie on my way home,” Sam told him. “I put it in the fridge.” 

“Is it apple? I hope it’s apple,” Dean said as he stood up. “You want a slice?” 

“I’ll pass,” Sam answered. “But I’ll take a root beer on your way back.” 

“Must be some good news you got at the doctors. You’ve been smelling all good since you got home, and you picked up pie? If it weren’t the anti-possession tattoos I’d think you were possessed by a demon or something…Which reminds…me…” Dean’s voice trailed off. 

“Dean?” Sam leaned back to try and peer into the house. 

He stood up and walked into the house and found Dean in the kitchen. He was standing front of the fridge holding the door open. He was looking down at the pie in the fridge. Sam had asked the bakery clerk to write We’re pregnant on top of the pie in frosting. 

“Turns out it wasn’t pre-omegapause, or omegapause or stress…I’m uh. I’m pregnant Dean,” Sam told him. “We’re gonna have a baby.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said. 

“Yeah…my thoughts too when I found out,” Sam chuckled. 

“But what about…and all those times,” Dean said as he looked at Sam. 

“Stress…it can decrease infertility and the chances of conceiving,” Sam replied. “The last decade and a half has probably been a little stressful what with hunting monsters and trying to keep the world from imploding…you know, just normal everyday stressful things.” 

Dean laughed a little. “Yeah, totally normal stressful things…fuck, Sam this is…” 

“Good?” Sam asked hopefully. 

“More than good Sammy,” Dean answered. He set the pie down on the counter and walked over to Sam. His fingers brushed their bond mark as he pulled him down into a kiss and Sam melted into it. 

“This is amazing,” Dean said as he pulled away. “You’re gonna get so fat.”

Sam snorted and shoved his mate. “Screw you.” 

Dean just grinned at him. “I mean consider screwing is what led us here…” 

“Oh my god, just eat your pie,” Sam laughed.

[jackidy]

To Star Lake - Chapter 2

Rating: T Pairings: Todoroki Shouto/Sero Hanta Characters: Various Universe: Howls Moving Castle Au

Summary: A day of impossibilities starts with a mystery man, with mismatched eyes and cold hands, rescuing him in a dark alleyway as he attempted to go about his business and the pet name sweetheart being said a little too tenderly. It ends with another stranger cursing him in his own store after telling them to leave.

Things like this don’t happen to people like Sero Hanta.

AO3  Previous Chapter Next Chapter 

---

He’s all too aware of his body when he wakes up, the dull thrum of pain in his joints and back that was not too different from every time he’d fallen asleep at his desk whilst working. Only he’s not at his desk, he’s in his bed, staring at the off-white ceiling as Sero willed himself to get up, mind combing through the events of yesterday in a bid to find the source of why he ached so much.

Went to see Kaminari. Was literally swept off his feet by a wizard. Came home and met another one who –

The attempt to sit up quickly is beaten by the stiffness, Sero grumbling to himself as he stumbled over to the mirror and wash basin in his room, blinking at his appearance before sighing in resignation. “So, I didn’t dream that after all.” He mumbles, voice deeper and croakier than it had been before, eyeing his now older features warily. How was he going to explain this to Urakaka and the workers or to Mina when she turned up later?

Wait, Mina. Moving with speed that leaves him winded, Sero locks the door, knowing the other would barely hesitate before slamming the door open to announce her presence the moment she realised he wasn’t downstairs. But how could he go downstairs?! He’d aged fifty years over night due to some guy whose life mission last night seemed to solely be tormenting Sero.

Had he been the person following them through the alleyway? He wasn’t caught up enough on magic practises to know if blue fire was a common thing, he just now knew that curses burnt through you like fire. Presuming that his current state was reversible at all, gods he hoped it was.

“Pass that on to little Shouto, would you.”

Why did everything keep coming back to Shouto? He’d never met the man. Surely, he’d remember meeting a supposed heart stealing wizard, even if Sero was far from his usual target. He’d entertained the idea of his rescuer being him, of the renowned heart eater saving him, kissing the back of his hand before he was stating he was his Hanta. But things like that don’t happen to him, regardless of what yesterday have proved, it was simply a case of mistaken identity that had resulted in all this.

At least, that was the truth he believed until a better idea came up.

The jostling of the door handle startles him, an all too familiar annoyed noise before loud, impatient knocking sounded against the door. “Sero Hanta! Open this door so I can see your lovely face.” There she was, tehre was Mina, Sero tempted to open the door and greet her only to stop himself. How does he explain this? It had been a struggle in and of itself trying to play down the events of yesterday to keep Kaminari from stressing out and that was before the additional ones that left him twenty-three going on seventy.

“Maybe next time, I’m not feeling too great.” Not an entire lie, he didn’t feel great. He felt confused and anxious more than anything. Please buy it, he mentally pleads, hoping it would be good enough cover as to why he sounded so old now. “I must have caught something at the parade yesterday.” I caught a series of impossible events, he adds silently, waiting with bated breath to see if she buys it and leaves.

“Do you need me to get you anything? We can bring you some soup at lunch time?” We? Oh, Urakaka. No doubt as soon as Mina returned downstairs with news he was ill she’d be in the same concerned boat as Mina, the pair a force to be reckoned with when it came to any worker feeling a little off colour or, more often than not, whenever Sero over worked himself.

It happened more often than he cared to admit.

“Sure, you know my favourite.” What time was it now? How long until the lunch break and how long did he have to leave? It was ten, lunch began at one. 3 Hours was plenty of time to dress, pack some food and money and leave before they all came back. As much as he would love to stay, he doesn’t know how to explain any of this, the idea of disappearing for a while and coming back himself a more attractive idea.

Kaminari is probably going to laugh at the fact the thing that got him to stop following his self-imposed expectations of himself was being turned into an old man. This all after, of course, the blonde would shout about how he’d been right about Sero’s day only getting stranger.

His clothes still fit, though what they gained in length they lost in looseness, fitting now more snugly against him. Perhaps that’s a perk in and of itself, if this is what he was going to look like when he was older, at least his metabolism had slowed down enough to let him gain weight. “At least your clothes fit you better now.” Sero whispers to himself, shrugging on a jacket and jamming his signature hat on like always.

First stop is the kitchen, taking his bag and cautiously unlocking the door, heading downstairs, breathing a small sigh of relief to find the kitchen empty, grabbing bread, cheese and some cured meat before pausing at the sight of the tart on the table and the small note beside it of ‘Hanta’s, don’t touch!’. Oh, the temptation to take it, arguing with himself for a little too long before sighing and walking over, grabbing the nearest pen to scribble a quick ‘thank you! – Hanta’ on the note before taking it.

No use adding to the panic they were going to feel when they realised that he was gone, Sero hesitating, unsure of if he should go through with his plan before shaking his head, shoving the entire bite sized pastry in his mouth. He was leaving. He was going to the wastes to find someone, anyone, willing to tell him how to break this curse placed on him and, with any luck, hopefully break it.

Shoving the plundered food into his bag, he makes a quick escape as the dawning realisation of how much tea the shop went through during the day set in. Leaving through the gate in the courtyard behind the store, Sero slips into the alleyway, thankful as the stiffness of his joints seems to ease up but noting with some annoyance how it still remained, as if a lingering reminder of the mess he’d gotten himself in.

Maybe he should get himself a walking stick? If anything, it would add to the look, Sero politely turning down the off of help down some stairs before going back to his thoughts, did he have enough to buy a walking stick? Did he have enough money at all? He hadn’t really checked his wallet before leaving, he’d just assumed he’d have enough to get by on. Did recklessness come with being older or was this just another side of the curse that he was only just now becoming aware of because, sure, he wasn’t always the most careful of people but he’d always been careful when it came to his finances.

He’ll find a stick to use when he gets to the wastes, nothing was so sore he needed one right now anyway but it would be a safe bet he may need something to assist walking when he made it to the moorland wastes. But he was getting ahead of himself, it was all fair and well planning what he’d do once he reached the outskirts of civilisation but he first had to get there.

---

He should have bought a walking stick.

Sero makes it to the wastes, hitching a ride with a farmer whose farmland backed onto them, who felt the need to remind Sero he was crazy for going up into the wastes alone, how nobody who went there ever came back and that he hoped whoever Sero was looking for was worth it. He doesn’t have the heart to tell the man that he’s aware of the first two, just smiling a little sadly and informing him that, yes, the person he was looking for was important. Even if Sero didn’t know who that was just yet, silently hoping it was the man from the alleyway just so he could point out with annoyance at just what he’d inadvertently caused by not letting him be mugged.  

That’s what he tells himself anyway, knowing it in part to be a lie.

He still wants to know how the man knew his name, how he treated him like they not only knew each other but were close. Sero has met many people through his work but he knows full well that whilst he remembers people, they rarely remember him and yet, Mr Mystery was not only unknown to him but also knew enough about Sero to not only call him his given name but kiss his hand. How could he not be intrigued enough to seek him out and demand answers to every question the wizard had been the source of?

Sero shivers as another breeze goes through him, noting bitterly he should have picked up a thicker jacket than the one he wore as well as a stick, huddling down into a small outcropping of trees, pulling the flimsy jacket tighter around him before blowing into his hands. “Biggest I’ve ever been and I still can’t keep fucking warm.” He mutters to himself bitterly, digging into his bag for a bite to eat before setting himself to thinking of warm things.

The hearth in the work room that made the winters so much more bearable. The hot cocoa Koda made for everyone during his breaks at the bakery, including Sero if he happened to be visiting Kaminari. Urakaka and Mina’s attempts at making soups or stews and failing miserably, Sero always eating them despite the way his stomach protested each time, thinking fondly on how they’d improved over the years to the point what they made was now truly edible. How hot the alleyway had been even with the ice cold hand on his waist, how warm the wizards hand had been in comparison when it-

No.

He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that right now, Sero’s stomach churning. It was his fault he was an old man, his fault he was currently sat in cold moorland and not in his workshop, his fault that everyone he was friends with were probably panicking over his sudden disappearance. No, that one wasn’t his fault, it was Sero’s decision to leave, no matter how much he wanted to blame someone else.

“I should have left a note for them.” He wonders idly, staring at the town in the distance, mouth pressed into a thin line as opposed to one of his usual smiles. They’ll be fine without him, he won’t be gone forever and then he’s return so they can all, rightfully, express their annoyance at him for just absconding into the wilderness without so much as a word never mind a goodbye.

The sound of something rustling makes him jump, Sero scrambling to his feet in a way that wouldn’t have affected his younger body but he’d definitely be feeling later on at this age, turning a little too sharply only to find not a beast but a stick, or should that be a branch, sticking out of the bushes. Had that been there when he’d stopped here earlier or was this just the world granting him a boon to make up for his own personal hell he was experiencing?

Putting his bag back on, Sero moves round to the other side of the outcrop, preferring the idea of not tumbling down the side of the hill should he fall, knowing full well there would be no way he’d manage to get back up the hill with any new pains he’d gain from it. The cold breeze is still present as he grabs the stick in both hands, muttering small curses as he pulled the stick, going as far as to put his foot against a tree for leverage.

“This branch better be damn worth it.” He hisses through clenched teeth, toppling backwards as the branch comes free, revealing not a walking stick like he had hoped but something entirely different. Sero isn’t too proud to admit he screams, a scarecrow that looks more akin to a crucified bird balancing perfectly at his feet, a tattered dark suit covering the frame embellished with red and black feathers that stretched from arms to a flour sack head in a way that made it look like a crown. It’s almost laughable how it looks like a mocking rendition of the missing Prince from the neighbouring kingdom.

Pushing himself to his feet, grunting in pain from his sore back and knees, Sero offers the scarecrow a withering glance before sighing. “Well, there goes my hopes for a walking stick. At least you’re not upside down now.” He grumbles, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness settling into them, sighing before setting off again, hands gripping the bag strap as a sense of unease filled him.

He needs to find a place to stay, eyeing the clouds above wearily as they rolled in slowly, thick and dark, the smell of lightning and rain in the air. Kaminari would be happy, he was practically lightning made flesh, but Sero was not his short friend, Sero was not too fond of being caught out in a storm, more so now he knew how cold the wastes were. If only he had actually found a stick in that bush, maybe then he’d move faster than a snail’s pace and have at least a diminishing hope of finding a place to stay tonight as opposed to the none existent one he held onto now.

Sero jumps as something is dropped in front of him, looking down at the offending object, a walking stick, before turning his attention upwards to the looming figure oh the bird turned scarecrow. If this had occurred any other week, Sero knows full well his response to a moving scarecrow would have been one of abject horror, more so down to the thing’s effigy like appearance. “Umm…thanks.”

His back cracks as he bends to pick up the cane, noting with mild amusement the bird head like handle, looking up at the scarecrow again and letting out a breathy laugh. “You must be so proud of yourself, huh?” His response comes in the form of a couple of bounces, Sero not entirely sure why he thought he’d get a verbal one beyond it feeling like a natural conclusion to come to after the day or so. “If you want to find a place for me to stay in tonight too, that would also be helpful.”

The scarecrow bounces away, a lot faster than Sero expected it to move, the cursed man silently wondering just how the scarecrow had come to be and just how it seemed to understand what he was saying to it. Was it also cursed like him or was it simply the product of unspent magic that found its home in an inanimate object? Though, what did he know, his only experiences with magic in life had resulted in the situation he was stuck in.

Hobbling forward, Sero heads in the direction the scarecrow had gone, his legs all too thankful when the ground evened out into something less steep, the lessening ache in his joints feeling heavenly even if he was still in some discomfort, preferring the mild discomfort over the sharper pains that had seemingly haunted his ankles knees and hips on inclines.

He’s not too sure how longer he’s walked for when he smells it, the all too familiar woodsmoke, Sero relaxing and moving forward with as much vigour only for the excitement to come to a crushing end when he hears it. Metal clanks and creaks against itself, the smell of smoke almost suffocating as the sight of both the scarecrow and the house it had found come into view.

Only it wasn’t a house.

That was Shouto’s castle.

“When I said find me a house, I didn’t mean that!” Sero yells, watching as the castle seems to slow its pace, passing the cursed man and scarecrow slowly but never stopping. This had to be a sick coincidence, right? Surely this bird headed scarecrow hadn’t intentionally led a magical walking castle to him, right? He might have come to the wastes looking for a witch or wizard willing to help him out but this was something else entirely, he was hoping for one that didn’t walk hand in hand with a reputation for heart eating.

Any further protests to using the castle are interrupted when the sky rumbles to life, a loud roar of thunder and the crack of lightning somewhere behind him but all too close for comfort. Breaking and entering into a castle owned by a wizard of known incredible power or staying out in a storm? It was an easy enough answer for him to find, stumbling after the castle as the sound of raindrops began to make the metal sing. Why does the castle seem to be speeding up again, had Sero missed his opportunity to enter? Rain biting into the back of his calves as he attempted to catch up, not sure if the sound in his ears was the rumbling thunder or his frantic heartbeat from the sheer effort of trying to at least keep up with the castle.

“Could you decide if you’re letting me in or not already?!” He wheezes out, the burn in his legs almost unbearable, each step feeling like he’s walking on glass as opposed to the rain-soaked grass. It’s unexpected, the way the castle seems to come to a near halt, swinging back on its legs to meet Sero’s next frantic step, the old man stumbling and falling against the stone stairs due to the momentum, hissing from the impact and the pain blooming in his shins and forearms.

He was going to be sore in the morning, shakily pulling himself up with help from both the ramshackle railing and his cane, eyeing the blue door before him before turning to regard the scarecrow, still bouncing after the castle, Sero wondering vaguely if it wanted more praise or if it was simply concerned for his wellbeing. “Thanks,” he says softly, half convinced the scarecrow hadn’t heard him only to witness the scarecrow perform the same bounce it had upon bringing him the stick.

The warmth that hits him upon opening the door is a welcome embrace, Sero walking in without a second glance to the scarecrow, closing the door softly as to avoid alerting anyone to his presence. He may be cursed, worn, far beyond the point of caring anymore but he by no means wished for more misfortunate upon himself, not today at least. Wooden stairs almost feel like a mountain as he climbs them, twelve steps feeling like twelve thousand, yet his lungs feel free, the squeeze of exhaustion having slowly eased out of them.

Sero spots the stool in the dim light of the fire, choosing to ignore the unkempt state of the room he’d entered for now, his sole focus being to sit down and just bask in the heat of the fire. His stick tapping against the floorboards and his grunts whenever he miss stepped where the only thing breaking the silence, Sero using what seemed to be the last of his energy to pull another couple of logs onto the fire before sinking onto the stool, full weight against the stick so he didn’t ultimately fall off.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” The voice is as groggy as he feels, Sero staring at the slowly awakening fire, vaguely registering the grumpy face staring back at him from it. A fire with a face, off putting but not at all surprising, Sero too relaxed under the heat that seemed to melt his muscles and bones in peaceful welcome. It would take an act of god to move him at this point, that much he was sure of.

“I’m not supposed to be a lot of things.” He’s not supposed to be old. He’s not supposed to focus on work too much. He’s not supposed to attract the attention of witches and wizards. He’s not supposed to doubt his friend’s compliments. He’s not supposed to be sat in the castle of Ice Prince Shouto, having a conversation with the fire place about where or not he should have walked in from the wastes.

The fire regards him, a strange expression on its flames akin to impressed and humoured by Sero’s current state and, in all honesty, he isn’t sure which is worse. “Who the fuck did you piss off to have that happen?” The fire’s voice is gravely, like the crackle of burning wood, Sero finding himself slowly falling asleep only to jolt awake when there’s an annoyed shout of ‘wake up’ followed by an insult.

“I don’t know, didn’t think to ask for a name during the entire exchange.” He jokes, ignoring the unimpressed look on the fire’s flames, feeling the exhaustion begin to creep in once more. Would he still have been this fatigued if he were still his true age? He’s not sure, knowing he’s had stressful enough day to exhaust anyone. “If I can stay the night then I’ll be on my way before-”

“Do you want to break it?”

“Break what?”

“The curse.”  

The silence stretches on, the fire returning Sero’s dumbfounded look with one of mild annoyance. How does he answer that? Of course he wants to break the curse but what could a fire, sentient or not, do to help him? Sure, he had had his doubts about the scarecrow but this was different, the scarecrow could at least move but the fire was well and truly trapped in the hearth. “How do I know you actually want to help me and this isn’t another trick?”

It smirks at him, a little too on the feral side for Sero to feel fully comfortable with it, flames burning a little brighter with what he could only guess to be excitement. “Because you’re not the only one with a curse to break.” That made sense, he supposes, a fair trade of one broken curse for another, Sero wondering just how someone managed to curse a fire before it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, the fire was in the same position as he was. “Do we have a deal?”

“Sero. My name is Sero.” He replies sleepily, all too ready to fall into the embrace of sleep as he yawned widely, slumping further onto his cane.

“Bakugou.”

“You’ve got a deal.” He mumbles more than says, finally giving himself over to the exhaustion.

[leam1983]

On Grief

This is a long one. You're under no obligation to push further if you don't want to. It's a personal post, so I'll more than understand if this isn't to your tastes. The normally-scheduled pedantry, commentary and memes will resume shortly.

One of my relatives was diagnosed with ALS. What started as an odd case of palsy in her left set of vocal cords that could've been far more benign was just confirmed by her referred physician. It's Lou Gherig's, and with her age and current condition, her prognosis is of three to five years, tops. Sure, Stephen Hawking blew his own prognosis out of the water, but a combination of notoriety and luck enabled him to eke out as much existence as medical tech could've possibly allowed.

We knew things were suspect when my aunt, a marathoner with a monthly sub to Runner's World, stopped running. Her food intake dropped like a stone, and she soon took to increasingly simple painting and drawing styles. At first we thought it was just her wanting to explore simpler rendering techniques, but then...

Then we noticed the twitching. How awkwardly her pens and brushes were set in her hands. She was in great shape and didn't mind living in the ass-end of Sutton, basically in the open country and with a path leading up to her front door that was all in rough cobblestones. She broke a hip against them, last year.

Her speech started to slur, lately. Her last bike trip also landed her in the ER. She doesn't bike anymore. She doesn't run, and being a gourmand by nature, feels obligated to restrain herself, for fear of gaining weight. She's aggressively vegan. Not towards others, but towards herself. No meat, no eggs, nothing. Most of us ovo-lactos and omnivores in the family know her constant snacking meant her seventy-plus body is desperate for energy.

From the look of things, it feels like the diagnosis broke through her bullshit reasoning for being vegan. She wasn't vegan for the sake of limiting her carbon footprint or making more responsible choices at the grocery store, but because she, as a lifelong anorexic, thought she was ugly and needed to lose weight. That's been a constant with her. Age catches up and skin sags? She mistakes it for a love handle, cuts out virtually all sources of protein and carbs safe for tofu, seitan and bean-based preps. Of course, like a lot of anorexics, she'd have bulemic episodes. I used to sleep over at her last bachelor pad, as a teen, and I remember her pantry was loaded up for bear with Danish cookie tins, Nutella jars and whipped cream. I remember she invited me over specifically when she intended to cheat. Then it was back to yoga, pot-smoking, meditation and shopping runs - and she probably kept her purging for when I was gone.

So yeah. I'm betting Belgian Asshole (see one of my previous posts) convinced her to break her vows and went looking for a "slice of authentic Tikka Masala", to quote his email. The entire family is made up of ethnic food diehards, so we spam-flooded his inbox with recommendations. Looks like she'll be eating meat again, soon. Her own email mentioned concerns of strength and stamina, so I get it.

Otherwise? We're gobsmacked. Imagine spending an entire weekday both at work and off work, aggressively goofing off because you're trying as hard as you can not to think of your favourite aunt's mention of assisted suicide as an option.

Three to five years. Maybe one, or two good Christmases. After that, her condition should probably have started to deteriorate quickly.

I'm not close with a ton of my own family. I love them all, but it's more a sense of polite respect than anything involving solid bonds. The only two folks I know I'll be devastated for when they'll die are her, and my youngest cousin on the other side of the family.

I'm mostly okay now. No doubts, no crisis of unbelief, no anger, no rage... But then I'll see her in a more diminished state, one of those days. How am I going to take to it?

Part of me keeps a tally of the deaths in the family. First, it was my uncle on my mother's side. Ruptured abdominal artery, with a leak small enough to pool into the gut's cavity for months. Decay settled in, guy got anesthetized for an intervention...

They didn't even bother sewing him back up.

Second one was my other paternal aunt's new husband. First one was great, but left the country in the seventies to go live in Stockholm with his medical assistant. Second one was a geologist and physicist at the same campus she taught as. French guy, the son of innkeepers four generations down. It showed, too. Our Christmas tables haven't been the same since he left us his recipie books, all his corny jokes on provincial eating habits, and his obstinate focus on turning every 25th of December into a Roman orgy probably befitting of the old Saturnalia traditions. I mean, when's the last time you've had an eight-course meal, outside of Thanksgiving?

Tumors in his mesenteric artery lined the blood vessel's inner walls, deposited virtually everywhere in his body. He was diagnosed in June and dead by August. He'd always been the lanky type, bone-thin even if he hoovered food like he'd never have enough. He looked even thinner in his hospital bed.

Then, my maternal grandpa bit it. Decades of casual alcoholism, cirrhosis more or less jumping on him around his seventy-sixth year. He looked a bit like John Keston, the actor who played Gehn in CyanWorlds' Riven. Same hairline, same hawkish nose, same eyes - just more Cajun and less New England-esque. I don't know if it was youth or stupidity or - anything, really, but I dropped by to see him, just two days before he died. I didn't realize he was tallying my life, asking me if I had everything in order, if things were planned.

Now, I understand.

Next one on the chopping block is Aunt Doris, still on Mom's side. She of the serial mooching, she of the concept of not needing much to get by if you were the cute one of the family. She was pretty enough in her prime, sure - if by pretty you meant "cigarette-butt blonde with a discount Farah Fawcett blow-up and an unfinished High School degree". First husband was an abusive ass who gave her an uncommonly sensitive son, second one figured she'd stick to the minimum-wage circuit while he tore out rotator cuffs or busted his C7 while on his outboard like clockwork. By the end, she roped my grandmother into living with her, spent her days sloppy-drunk and died on her ratty couch while falling asleep and choking on her own vomit.

Before them all, the youngest of my uncles died at age two. Cancer. Never knew which one, was told it didn't matter. You didn't survive much of anything cancerous, back in the late fifties.

Ping-pong this back to three years ago, and my oldest paternal uncle dies. Paul, who smoked like a chimney for most of his life and successfully stopped after discovering Champix. He got to live five great years as the high-IQ oddball he'd always been, smoke-free. Paul was the weird bird in the family, the type to remember a really engrossing story at two in the morning and making a note to call you up first thing in the morning to share it. He always had a project of some sort to work on, like a simulated investors' tank for young entrepreneurs looking to learn the ropes, or a Byzantine arrangement of coaxials allowing four of his lakeside neighbours to pirate his cable sub. He'd invite us over for dinner, gather all the ingredients we'd need for whatever it was he wanted to treat us to - and then he'd let us cook it - just sitting by the sidelines, chatting away.

He was also a bit of a narcoleptic, and looked a bit like William Howard Taft if you'd worked him out of these old sack suits and into modern shirts and suspenders. He fell asleep practically everywhere, with his more wakeful environments being his workshop and his property's dock. He took me out fishing, once, and knew what the entire family expected.

"Oars're here, Gremlin, fish're that way. Wake me up when you've got a bite."

At this point, it wasn't even a point of concern; it was just an Uncle Paul Thing, the exact thing you'd have expected out of this kind, eccentric blob of a man whose idea of fishing involved pushing his hat over his eyes and basically all but ensuring that his roaring snores would scare prey away. He'd been a supposedly high-IQ type, terminally bored with almost everything, only really getting agitated and interested back when I asked him for help for my Junior High Computer class's Javascript calculator. Once the syntax hit something familiar and he realized that JS has some similarities with FORTRAN, he was on a roll, acting like someone had snuck a Red Bull in his coffee.

Well, fibrosis caught up with him. His last hours were spent directing us on how to cook what would've been his last meal. I think he really just wanted to know we were alright, that we still could exchange laughs around the kitchen counter. He clocked out the way he always did, except he had an oxygen tube running under his nose. His head bobbed down, he snored loudly for a few minutes, then turned increasingly quiet...

And that was it.

And now there's Isabelle. The marathoner, my partner-in-crime when it comes to professing to have a healthy diet while occasionally cheating in glorious, weekend-defining means, my gateway to cannabis and also the first person who took my cringy self-insert fanfic fodder and went No, that's worth it! Push it, develop that universe of yours!

I wouldn't be almost two-thirds of the way through my first decent manuscript, if not for her, and I wouldn't be shopping for publishers with the same energy you'd reserve for weekend-grade Facebook putzing-about. I owe her part of my self-acceptance, and part of my discovery of what defines my routine to this day. Isabelle was my first meditation coach.

And in three to five years, she might be gone.

I just thought grief might be... noisier, is all. Louder. Right now, it's just germane to confusion, and it's sitting there. There's a pinch of fear in it, too. My parents are in their mid-sixties. How long do I have left with them?!

And the family and I just covered that up with jokes and, well, cooking. I've been told I'd make a half-decent therapist but - navigating your own emotions is hard work...

I don't know. I guess I needed to put this down somewhere.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

okay first off your writing is SO GOOD!!!!!! but i was wondering, since in most of the works so far some of the other yiga are kinda mean, could we get sooga and/or kohga bonding with a newer recruit? like they’re having a rough time adjusting and it’s just tender and sweet

One, the yiga aren’t exactly mean. It’s levels. See, the foot soldiers are very kind and respectable to Sooga, for his status, and devotion to Kohga. The Blade masters are hard on Sooga because he was once one of them. As such, they’re VERY competitive with one another, and accept nothing less than perfection from one another. The Blade master’s aren’t bad guys, they’re just way more heavy handed. Trust me, if push came to shove, these guys would have Sooga’s back.

And two, there’s actually a mission in aoc that kiiinda has something in those lines. It’s where a yiga member misses home, so you give him veggies to remind him of home (think it gives Kohga an extra heart???), so let’s do it based of that guy!

“Rounds, once more! Let’s go!”

Whenever Sooga wasn’t serving Kohga, he was busy tending towards the soldiers' training. He was busy training the newest recruits, and it was quite a solid lineup so far. Quick, devoted, opportunistic. Just what the clan needed. All but one. The one who seemed to be the most distracted. He was the newest one of the pack, having just joined the clan yesterday. He was slow, he kept tripping over himself, he kept fumbling. It was odd, given the fact that just the day prior, he was near the front of the pack. He tripped up yet again in the course, unable to dodge the obstacles set before him. He was about to get up and try again, when he looked up to see Sooga peering over him.

“Not you. Get up, follow me. Rest of you, follow HIS orders!”

He left the newbies to his own second hand, a man who was close to being Master Kohga’s right hand (long story). The footsoldier stood up, following Sooga. He stayed close to his side, less he got lost in the maze of the base. He then stopped into one of the storage rooms, shutting the door behind them. He looked down at the meager creature before him, and he couldn’t help but scoff. He didn’t look down on him for being on the lower rung of the yiga ladder, but for the fact that he wasn’t giving everything he had to the clan.

“Explain yourself.”

“I don’t, uhm-”

“You will look at me in the face.”

“You mean mask?”

He chuckled, but when Sooga didn’t do the same, he shrunk a bit. He fiddled with his fingers, clearly nervous under such an intense gaze. He went silent. Sooga fought the urge to sigh.

“You are now a member of the Yiga clan. Therefore, your devotion must be unlimited, and unwavering. Unless you are injured, you give all your body has to the clan. Do you understand?”

He messed with his fingers again, and Sooga couldn’t help but notice just how young he was. But a boy, in Sooga’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I know I said I wanted to join, and I’ve already sworn devotion to Kohga. But I just...I’m distracted.”

“Explain.”

The soldier hugged himself, clearly going into something uncomfortable.

“I...I dunno. I’m used to having a mom, and a dad, and my sister. I’m used to sitting down and having warm meals in my own bed, I miss playing with my friends. I miss my village, I miss the goats, the horses, even the cherry trees. I even missed being called by my own name, Alfo-”

“You do not speak your former name. You learn to look without a face, and to be silent, even when asking for help. You and your team must be in sync, and you could ruin it in your longing. Do you understand?”

He looked up at him, before nodding. Life in the yiga clan was not easy. He too, joined the clan, and felt the confusion. He too, yearned for his home way back when, and even now, he’d turn if he thought he heard someone speak his name. It was rough, especially at this young age. No one was to know of another member's past, aside from Sooga, but from what he gathered, his parents died, and his sister had gone missing. He needed resources, needed a place to stay as he searched for her. It was a noble dream, that much was certain. Sooga wanted to bark at him once more, before his heart seemed to recall what compassion was.

“Look. Perhaps you need independent training, until you grow comfortable with the other’s. I will train you myself.”

“Are you...serious? Really?”

The boy looked damn excited, but he stopped bouncing on his feet the second Sooga cleared his throat. This was going to take some work, it seemed, before this foot soldier could properly represent his clan. Still holding a chipper attitude however, he was sure to make the other aware of how important this offer meant to him.

“You will NOT regret this, Sooga! Not for one-”

He seemed to forget the door was closed, causing him to hit his face against the door, and swear under his breath. Sooga sighed. This was going to be a challenge, for certain.

-----------------------------------------------

“Good, good. Again.”

Sooga was surprised how effortless this suddenly seemed to be. The little one started their training with more rants of home, more longing for what was once his life. Sooga, instead of telling him to hush and focus, allowed him to rant. It improved his skills considerably. His feet danced across the floor, his dodge timing was perfect, and although Sooga blocked them, his attacks hit their marks every time. He even managed to dodge one of his attacks, which was rare on someone so low on the yiga clan ladder.

“Right!”

Armed with but a Vicious Sickle, the young one found himself standing toe to toe with Sooga, enough so, that when their weapons locked together, the boy didn’t immediately fall over from his massive weight. Course, Sooga eventually gained the under hand, shoving him, and forcing him to drop his weapon. He looked ready for backlash, cowering as he stood there, when Sooga nodded.

“Nicely done. You lasted far longer than most. Seems as though you just needed to clear your head, young one.”

He bounced a bit on his feet, picking up his weapon and spinning it in his hand, suddenly overflowing with confidence.

“Well I mean...I AM pretty strong when I put my mind to it. Never really got picked on during school. Pretty smart to, I’d sa-ow!”

Not paying attention, he nicked his finger with the blade. He dropped it again, putting his finger in his mouth. Sooga rolled his eyes, leaning down to pick it up, before putting it back in his hand.

“Another rule of the blade. Respect your weapon. It is meant to serve you, but it is useless without the same amount of care. It is a mutual respect. Do you understand?”

He nodded, taking the blade back from his hand, and tucking it back into his belt loop. The boy was young, dumb, and eager to prove himself to his elder. If that didn’t ring any bells. The boy seemed to be done with his finger, and he finally found his voice.

“So, what now? We gonna learn some of the poof stuff? I wanna teleport and stuff!”

“That takes displicine, and concentration. Two things you do not have yet. It’s also why you are not allowed on the field yet.”

“Which is not fair!”

He cried out, following Sooga as they made their way to the dining hall. Most of the clan was happy to survive on mainly bananas, but the boy looked none too interested.

“What’s the matter? You are not hungry?”

“No, I am. I just...I kinda missed the food back from home.”

Sooga scoffed. Figures. Sooga couldn’t blame the poor boy for dwelling so much in the past. Not everyone was like himself, longing to forget his old life.

“Let me guess. You want something like meat stuffed pumpkin.”

Sooga didn’t expect him to gasp, and nudge his arm, clearly excited.

“How did you know!? Can you read minds!? What number am I thinking of!?”

“No, it’s just predictable, given what you told me about your previous life. Bit of a ‘bumpkin’, as I’d put it.”

Sooga chuckled. Maybe it was the fact that he grew up with younger siblings, maybe it was his natural knack for being a caregiver. But regardless, Sooga found himself charmed by this little one, enough to at least not bark and tell him to eat what he was served. Oh, he was soft in the heart, just like Kohga said. Speaking of Kohga-

“Sooga, there you are! Been looking for you!”

The dining hall was abuzz from Master Kohga’s presence. Excitement that the young one hadn’t seemed to fully grasp, like some newbies. Before Kohga could continue, he pointed towards Sooga, as if accusing him of something.

“Did you know he could read minds?!”

Kohga cocked his head to the side, clearly confused.

“What? No he can’t. Love the guy, but he’s stupid.”

“Oh, can YOU read my mind then? What number am I thinking of?”

Kohga folded his arms over his chest, scoffing.

“Easy, 420.”

“....Is this yiga magic? I wanna learn that!!”

Kohga seemed to find him just as amusing, shaking his head.

“This one of the newbies, isn’t he? The one you said you wanted to train personally?”

“Yes, Master Kohga. While his mind races with frivolous things, he does in fact, have some skills. His reflexes are swift, as well as his feet, even amongst the foot soldiers.”

“Am I...skilled enough to get meat stuffed pumpkin?”

Kohga cocked his head to the side, and Sooga had to pull him into a bit of a side huddle.

“He misses his old home, Master Kohga. Not to mention, some variety in their diet COULD do some good in terms or morale.”

Kohga scoffed, arms folded.

“I like this kid, but you can’t sit there and tell me this kid is THAT special, Sooga. I’m not going all the way out there just so he can have special eats.”

“....Please?”

Kohga knew that look in his face. Sooga would NOT let this go, he could tell. He groaned, lightly shaking his head.

“Fine, just. Fine.”

The kid seemed to hear them, and whooped in celebration. Right before his excitement made someone fall over, and drop their bananas everywhere. Kohga sighed.

“I can’t believe I like this kid.”

“Neither can I, Master Kohga.”

They watched him scramble and try to pick everything up, before slipping on one of the peels, starting the mess all over again.

“We’re essentially adopting him, aren’t we?”

“Essentially, Master Kohga.”

“Oh well. Least I can call myself a dilf now.”

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

Hello, excuse me, but can I have a request you for a fic, 32) and 6) between Hector and Ike ?, thanks nwn

32) Eating competition

6) Mutual wg

With all the Heroes in the Order, and that number ceaselessly growing every day, the mess hall was a constantly active madhouse. People going in, coming out, resupplying -- it never really ended, and was always a source of noise and activity. With so many Heroes around, everyone took a turn at cooking, both to the great success and failure of such a system. But, what it sometimes lacked in edible food, it always made up for in sheer variety. One day, you’d be eating something from Archanea, the next, it would be a meal from Magvel.

Many people liked to stick to the food they were most familiar with, but Ike was never one to shy away from that which he was unused to. So long as it wasn’t rotten, he was game to try it out. Even if he didn’t particularly care for something, he’d eat it gratefully all the same; wasting food, even when it was bountiful, was simply just not how Ike had been raised.

Hector, though from an entirely different background to the Tellian mercenary, wasn’t too far off in his adventurous tastes. Where was the fun in only eating the same sorts of dishes when there were so many others available?

It was inevitable that the two would cross paths in the mess hall, and despite all the other people they’d have to wade through to end up at a table opposite each other, fate chose to push the two together one day. At first, they didn’t engage, simply went about eating their food and speaking with their respective companions -- but, where most people would have finished their meals, both Hector and Ike kept going. This, of course, was what started things off. Among his own friends, Hector was the one with the ridiculous appetite, but glancing up from his own food to see someone else eating even more than him? Well, it immediately lit the Ostian’s competitive fire, and it didn’t take long for him to strike up a conversation with the warrior across from him.

Ike wasn’t much for conversations, especially with relative strangers, but Hector’s boisterousness reminded him of Boyd, so it was a bit easier to warm up to him. The two chatted for a while, their previous company having excused themselves after finishing up their own food, and it didn’t take long before Hector proposed a little competition.

“We seem pretty evenly matched on this battlefield, so how about a little, friendly competition to see who can pack more away?” Hector cajoled in a friendly manner, making a wide gesture to the empty plates between the two of them.

Ike thought it was more than a little silly to compete over who could eat more, but he shrugged in quiet acceptance; the only ones who could match him in eating back in Tellius had been members of the Laguz, so he was pretty confident that beating Hector would be simple. “Alright, if you feel up for it.” His words weren’t meant to be insulting, but with the serious and blunt way Ike looked and spoke most of the time, Hector took it as a jab.

“Oh, so that’s how you want to play, huh? Don’t expect me to hold back, then!” Hector puffed up, all bluster and confidence as he got up, gesturing for Ike to follow, so that they could load back up on the same type and amount of food. “Better put your stomach where your mouth is, or else I’ll smoke you real good.” And, with very little ceremony, he started in on his newly acquired food; messily shoveling as much food as he could get into his mouth in an attempt to show up his competition.

Ike shook his head at the posturing, but followed suit -- though he didn’t waste as much food with sloppy eating as he dug in. He let the Ostian have a minute or two of satisfaction with how quickly he was making his way through dishes, but the competition was about who could eat more, not who could eat faster. The mercenary took some time to actually enjoy the flavors of what he was eating, waiting for that unavoidable moment when Hector started to hit his limits and slowed down. It was about three extra meals in -- all heavy dishes of seasoned meats, sauteed vegetables and filling sides of bread or several different rices.

Having already really eaten his fill earlier, Hector could feel himself struggling to get everything down after a while; his stomach painfully stuffed full and protesting every forkful of food. Leaning back and pressing the heel of his hand sharply into his middle, trying to ease the discomfort there, Hector gaped when he saw Ike not only speedily and steadily catching up to him, but easily passing him up without missing a beat.

It spurred him on enough to at least finish the dish he’d started in on, but with his stomach gurgling sickly from all the food he’d forced into it so quickly, Hector had to admit defeat. Ike was a good sport about it, telling Hector that it had been more fun than he’d originally thought as he dutifully finished the rest of his food as well as what Hector had left. Both of the warriors stuffed to the gills, they simply sat and dozily exchanged stories until their guts had digested enough to let them up.

Having won soundly, Ike thought that would be the end of it, but Hector was stubborn and fiery, and came back the next week to challenge the Tellian again. This time, they were both starting on empty stomachs, having just gotten back from various tasks on the Summoner’s behalf. It was closer this time around, but not by much; their little face off had gathered some onlookers regardless, some of the other Heroes taking sides and making wagers.

It became a weekly event, mostly brought on by Hector’s determination to win, as well as the growing interest in betting pools by those watching.

As the weeks rolled into months, and this competition continued on and on, the effects of so much extra food were making themselves known on both Hector and Ike.

Being more unused to the sheer amount of food out of the two of them, Hector’s gains were more obvious. His face had rounded out, double chin prominent no matter how he held his head. He’d always had strong shoulders and a thick neck, but those shoulders were now covered in a layer of plushness, his neck melding with the softness almost seamlessly. His powerful chest now sported a pair of hand-overflowing moobs that made it near impossible to wear his armor, especially when coupled with the bloated mass of his belly -- his large breasts resting on top of his stomach, making his flabby chins stand out even more. Love handles had settled at his sides like they were meant to be there, wobbling atop his plump hips as he waddled from place to place. His ass practically had a gravitational pull all on its own, taking up enough space on the benches in the mess hall to fit at least two or three other people, causing the sturdy benches to bow dangerously whenever he plopped himself down onto one. His size truly seemed to match his attitude now.

Ike, who had seemed to handle the food better for quite a while, had proved that he also wasn’t immune to the massive influx of calories.

Unlike Hector, whose weight seemed to distribute relatively evenly across his body, the majority of Ike’s seemed to settle on his middle. While the rest of him had filled out and gotten thicker as well, enough to mostly obscure his muscles, it wasn’t anywhere near as noticeable as his stomach. Meaty pecs sat atop a veritable ocean of lard, Ike’s gut the first thing anyone saw of him whenever he came into a room now. Where Hector’s belly looked perpetually stuffed -- round and tight, sticking out proudly -- Ike’s seemed to be going for a full out conquest of the mercenary’s lap. Soft and heavy, his belly’s fat rolled out to claim the space just shy of his knees when he was seated, chunky legs forced apart to give his fleshy underbelly room to spread out. While the upper section of his stomach would get stuffed rock hard with food at these weekly eating competitions, his lower belly maintained its soft, squishy form no matter how full up Ike was. His shirt had long ago given up trying to contain his belly, leaving the hefty chub open to any and all looks or touches that anyone else in the Order wanted to give it.

They’d both gone from being two of the most recognizably strongest Heroes in the Order, to its biggest dough balls. It didn’t matter much; there was always more people to fill in on quests or teams, and the other Heroes got a great deal of entertainment on betting every week come contest time.

Huffing and puffing as he took his seat, the bench groaning like a pained thing under his weight, Hector grinned across the table -- stacked high and wide with food for the competition -- at his friendly rival. Despite the fact that the Ostian had yet to win a round, he couldn’t even be bitter about his losses, as Ike had been there to help him up his speed and capacity for the next week’s competition.

“I’ll catch up to you one day, you know,” Hector assured, still all confidence and passion. “And you better believe, I won’t let you forget it once I do!”

Ike could only chuckle at the promise, belly wobbling with his laughter even as it was pressed close to the edge of the table in order for him to be able to reach the food there. “But you have to do it first. Come on, let’s get this round started already, I’m starving…”

[angstbullshit-a]

HEADCANON  --  EATING DISORDERS. heavy trigger warnings for bulima, binge eating, restrictive food intake and fad diets. finished with a happy ending. 

as you can guess,  heidi struggled with her relationship with food  --  with cartman and after the break up,  i have a lot to say about this so i’m going to break it into two parts in this one post --  once again,  this will go into heavy details regarding relationships with food,  this is going to be complicated and i may struggle to explain some parts because heidi does yo-yo between diets and disorders,  so if you're sensitive to food topics please don’t read this for your own mental health !    THIS DOES GET DETAILED.  

during her relationship with cartman :    

BINGE EATING.     as you all know,  one of the many traits picked up from cartman is his food problems.  even when not in his presence she found herself gorging on food and over eating until she felt sick,  including developing food aggression which lead to her hiding food in her room and under the bed away from her parents.  at this time,  she truly thought that she was still vegan,  so cartman was the one to bring the meat while she was the one to bring the sugary junk.  that was their system,  it kept heidi in the dark so cartman still had that upper hand and she remained ever clueless about the whole ordeal.  with the change of diets, it caused her to bloat much quicker and the rapid weight gain just kinda... happened for her,  she never realised it until it was far too late.  however with the love bombing that cartman did,  at the time she just didn’t care and let herself go and stopped caring about her health, because cartman still loved her ...  he did  !   

during this time period, the eating slowly developed into self harm and a coping mechanism with all that was going on.  at the time she developed the feelings that food was a friend -  it didn’t hurt her,  didn’t twist words and manipulate -  it became the most consistent thing in her life in a world where her mind was just absolute chaos. 

subconsciously,  food also became a symbol of good times. where the food dates her and cartman and went on were the only moments she could truly look at and say ‘yeah. we love each other,’  where food became the heart eyes and the giggling and the childish whispers in the corridor when they were all loved up...  it became the replacement for the love that was slowly dwindling out. 

after her relationship with cartman :  

a couple days after the permanent break up,  she learned that the vegan meat cartman introduced her to was in fact,  not.   which as you can imagine it really...  well,  it fucked her up enough that she ended up in a corner rocking back and forth from a breakdown which lasted for hours.  once it dawned on her what happened and what cartman did, she didn't hesitate and waste any time running to the bathroom and vomiting until the back of her throat hurt and she could no longer spew anything out. this was also caused her to not eat for a couple of weeks and survive on only water,  THIS was the exact moment that caused the very unhealthy patterns of eating.  

it’s here were the binge eating develops into BULIMA. not being able to completely give up the food but not wanting to actually have it, either.  she also doesn’t bother with veganism at this point, which makes the guilt even worse - but with the guilt,  it also makes it easier to force herself to throw it all back up which encourages her own mind to keep doing it. she also places herself in an extremely dangerous box of ‘well it’s not staying in my stomach, so i’m still vegan!’  the manipulation tactics learned from cartman is completely turned around and done to herself. 

in public and around her parents she’ll show signs of RESTRICTIVE FOOD INTAKE, the main two symptoms shown with this is ‘refusing to eat in public / lack of appetite ‘ and if being forced to eat around other people ( at the family table, given that at this time she tries to avoid everyone at school ) she’ll eat so slowly and have very small bites. 

during this time she DOES LOSE THE WEIGHT, its not healthy and because of her relationship with food she ends up stunting her own growth and other body developments. 

while going through all this she finds the goth kids and their way of thinking and outlook on life  -  despite her relationship with food still being complicated and her other self destructive tendencies ( this will get written about on another post )  -  they help,  their way of expression and how they handle the world really was a breath of fresh air and its something she ends up clinging to and taking everything as literal.  it doesn’t completely cure her, but it’s because of them she ends up being able to cope better.  smoking,  drinking coffee,  being nihilistic instead of cynical.  it’s because of this where she actually accepts the help her parents have been trying to throw her in ( she does get 5150′d,  but doesn’t fight the doctors or her parents and is very cooperative )   it’s important to note that she’s still closed off, quite and takes a long time to open up to therapists  -  but does end up going to a rehabilitation clinic,   its here where she realises she’s a very good poet and yes,  the goths always reply with  ‘ ... wow, that’s pretty dark / goth ‘ 

even after the help it doesn’t just, change where everything goes back to normal. during high school she’ll still go through fad diets and go a week or two without food, but its rare and few in between - the purging stops, but her relationship with food is something she’ll always struggle with. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #405

“today i went to therapy, told him the embarrassing issues that i’m having with my life  /  he told me that i need to change; life is not a video game, so stop playing & open up your eyes”

What was your favourite sweet as a child? Things like Baby Bottle Pops, Ring Pops, Airheads, etc. Do you like to wear socks to bed? NOOOOOOO. I don't wear socks unless I have to. What’s your favourite berry? Strawberries. If you have a job, how long is your shift? I don't. Do you like sunflowers? Well yeah. Are you counting down for anything? No. Are you watching TV? What’s on? No. Do you have make-up on? No. I haven't worn makeup since last October. Are you any good with kids? People have told me I am, but I beg to differ. What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender women, we physically couldn't. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years time? It'd be nice honestly, but I kinda doubt I will be. What is your favorite card game? Magic: The Gathering. What is the weirdest thing you’ve done in public? Ha, probably the times I've gotten down on the ground beside the road to photograph roadkill... More than once has someone stopped and asked if I was okay, haha. Favorite sleeping position? Twisted half on my side and stomach with my legs just sorta splayed out. What is your dad’s name? Ken. Have you ever been on a diet? Multiple times. Do you own any jersey shirts? No. Are you proud to be of the nationality you are? There are two moods I have on this: I'm either neutral or embarrassed. Can you remember what you last clapped for? Omg the woman who facilitates my TMS treatment was telling Mom and me about this one time a tiny snake got in the lobby and I did a lil squeal and clapped a bit because I was just excited to hear about a little snake, haha. What is the geekiest part of your music collection? *shrug* Maybe game soundtrack music. What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night? Well, not really the fridge, but w/e. I'll usually get a granola bar or something of the sort. What is the little physical habit that gives away you're insecure moment? Kneading/wringing my hands together is a dead giveaway. Do you have too many love interests? No. How much money would it take to get you to give up the Internet for one year? If you want honesty... probably no amount would lmao. I rely way too heavily on the Internet for so many things. Do you talk a lot? It depends on my mood and who I'm around. Do transient, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you? What a fucking awful question. They don't annoy me. It can be awkward driving past them, but they're in no way annoying. Do you consider yourself to be a nice person? I definitely try to be. What is your ideal marriage location? Either a gothic-looking mansion or something of the sort or a wooded area in the fall. Do you tell your friends about your sex life? I don't have one to talk about. Would you ever admit to having done plastic surgery of any kind if confronted? Yeah? No shame. What kind of watch(es) do you wear? I don't wear watches. What do you cook the best? My family likes my scrambled cheesy eggs... basic as that is, haha. When my sisters would go to Taco Bell all the time and save the hot sauces for later use, I would use some packets in the eggs I cooked. Honestly amazing. What's one car you will never buy? "Anything that is two door, or low to the ground." <<<< This right here. On the other end of the spectrum, I also won't ever buy a car that's high up. I need a good medium so I can actually get in with ease. What's one thing you're a sore loser at? Hm, I dunno. What kind of first impression do you think you give to people? "Wow, she's awkward." What's one thing you like to do alone? Draw. When's the last time you cried? Not long ago at all because I was just so exasperated over my weight gain. Do you think you're cute? God no. Do you have problems changing clothes in front of friends? I don't change in front of anyone if I can avoid it. Did you like kissing the last person you kissed or the one before that more? The last person. I gotta say I was not a fan of kissing Girt because for whatever reason his lips were ALWAYS wetter than lips naturally should be and I just didn't dig it, man. That and every kiss with him was awkward. Whose bed other than yours did you last lay on? My mom's. What turns you off immediately? Acting sexist, to name one. Which city do you particularly enjoy visiting and for what reasons? I don't like going into cities. Do you often take pictures with the camera on your phone? No. I don't like the camera on my phone. In the past year, have you lost weight or gained weight? How much? Gained. You don't need to know. What year was the last car you rode in/drove? I have zero clue. What’s your worst/funniest experience with one of your neighbors? "Worst" and "funniest" are very different... but I can tell you the worst easily. At my childhood home, our next-door neighbors had a pair of Rottweilers in their back yard within a chain-link fence, and we had a LOT of outdoor cats at the time. (I will emphasize every time I bring it up to NOT keep cats outside.) Somehow the dogs got loose and went on a rampage trying to kill our cats; one young one was killed, while our fearless mother cat, Chance, literally fought them off to defend her new kittens. More were maybe killed, I honestly can't remember. My mom was hysterical and threatened to call animal control if it ever happened again. I was absolutely, utterly heartbroken. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? Ummm I want to say it was some sort of pasta that I didn't let cool long enough. Honestly, are you shallow? Far from it, honestly. Can/could your parents tell when you were lying? Not always. Besides clothes, shoes, and accessories, what’s your favorite thing to shop for? I love window-shopping at Morph Market, haha. AAAAAAAAAALL those ball python morphs, man... *drools* Does/did your parents ever go through your computer or cell phone? When I was younger, Mom was very intent on figuring out why I was always so secretive about what I did on the computer (mostly RP-related things) that ohhhh yeah, she'd do some digging. The night she finally snapped, demanding I tell her my passwords to everything, and she ultimately found out about me being a forum RPer, was literally almost traumatic to me, I think. I know, that sounds INCREDIBLY overdramatic, but I'm not fucking joking. I was in my room SOBBING on my best friend's shoulder, who was spending the night. I was just so embarrassed, and I *still* am when I share that fact with people I know, even though I have no reason to be. Like I don't do any weird or kinky RP shit, it's just genuine, artistic writing with actual, well thought-out plots, but I still feel like people would think it dumb, childish, and just weird. What song reminds you the most of a particular day in your life? Why is that? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. I've talked about it a few times before and really don't feel like doing it again. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? I don't think so. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? I don't know. Does your mom eat meat? Yeah. Was your dad ever on a sports team? Lots in high school, I believe. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? Thick, by a long shot. What do you have in your fruit salads? Not a fan of fruit salads. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? I've only needed a wheelchair once in my life, and that was just to get inside and maneuver around the doctor's office when I tore a ligament in my foot. So no. What are your favorite word? Serendipity, tranquility, lucid, etc.; pretty, peaceful words like those. Is there a lot of drama in your life? Nope. I don't do enough or have enough people in my life for there to be. What are you listening to? An extended version of "Nightsong" from WoW. Do you hear any animals right now? No. I'm sure I'd hear birds if I didn't have my earplugs in, though. Have you ever played fetch with a dog? Yes. Have you ever pet a stingray? No. Who is the last baby you held? Emerson, my youngest niece. Do you have any scars from an animal? Yeah; I've got looooots from my cat playing too rough. Have you ever seen an Igloo? I don't believe so. Do you like Korn? They're high on my list of faves. Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Absolutely tornadoes. Do you like mushrooms? Ugh, NO. Have you ever been on Omegle? No. So do you have a favorite M&M? Just the regular ones. Have you ever snuck out? No. Do you currently feel like you have pretty stable career goals/a pretty stable life plan? Have you ever felt this way? I don't know, man. I know what I WANT to do, I just don't know if I'm ever going to get there. Or if what I want will be financially supportive enough, now that I'm really losing interest in photographing people. I might just have to if I want to be financially stable with photography, which would be okay, but bleh. I'd much rather just work with nature. If you could buy an android that was was convincingly human and could be tailored to be your perfect partner, would you want one? No. I don't want to build my own partner, nor do I want my romantic partner to be an android. I want life to just introduce me to a person who is uniquely themselves, who have built themselves from their own life experiences, and not just have a perfect spouse tailored to everything I like. If you do not identify as being “straight,” can you remember back to your childhood some things you did that were, in hindsight, possible indicators of your future sexuality? Yes, especially in middle school. I thought women were prettier than probably a straight kid would, and looking back, I definitely found the natural curves of the female figure to be attractive. When you consume media (movies, books, etc.) with a romantic element, what sort of romance scenarios interest you most? Hm. I know I prefer serious ones over silly; like I'm a sucker for Nicholas Sparks' style, if that says anything. If you are female, do you feel connected to other women as a class? What sort of things make you feel a strong sense of sisterhood or female empowerment? This is too big of a question for me to feel like delving into right now, haha. But I can say it more so depends on the individual than the gender when it comes to feeling connection over anything.