#TASTIEST MEAL OF MY LIFE

[loveisonlyforthebrave8]

you know what's actually criminal? gmmtv be churning out utter shite (bar a few exceptions) and the ratings each week are always through the fucking roof. where's the flavour?

[joffyworld]

UH OH THIS ISN'T GOOD

Conversation

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

[juleswritesstuff]

Blind

james potter x reader

I saw that post right in the middle and I just had to.

Warnings: none (it's a bit suggestive, but nothing major)

You could live like this, you think.

It would truly be the best life ever in your humble opinion.

Sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, holding on to him like a lifeline as your bodies fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. His hands are all over your body, fingers exploring wherever they can reach before sneaking swiftly under your shirt to trace along the length of your spine, pads dancing on your soft skin and making shives erupt all over you.

And his lips. Oh God, his lips. 

James has the face of an angel, and the mouth of a demon. And you love it. You revel in the feeling of his lips claiming every part of you, every inch of flesh. They are soft and reverent and teasing and filthy, and in this moment they are devouring yours with a hunger that matches the fire blooming inside of you.

“You have no right to look this good” you whisper on his lips, biting his bottom one before swiping your tongue right over it.

You couldn’t help yourself when you saw him. All disheveled after quidditch practice with his hair still a little damp, the first three buttons of his shirt free, tie loose and crooked and a half smirk on that perfect face of his; knocking on your door completely clueless of the effect he had on you.

He looked like sex on legs. A literal sin in human form, and you were ready to fall from grace when it came to him.

“Didn't know post-quidditch me was so sexy to you” his voice has a little strain to it, breathless and teasing as his hands roamed all over your body.

You let out a breathless chuckle, hyper aware of every centimeter of him pressed against you.

“You have no idea” your hands get to work on his shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as you can, until his perfectly chiseled torso graces your eyes in its full glory.

Your mouth waters at the sight.

You slide the fabric off of his shoulders, brushing the smooth skin and feeling all those firm muscles that he hides behind his beloved sweatshirts, biting your lip as the flames inside your body grow hotter by the second. 

Your mouth latches to his once again, never having enough of his taste, of him.

He starts to lay down and you follow him, never breaking the embrace of your lips, intoxicated by the way his tongue caresses yours in the filthiest of dances. His back hits the mattress and you are fully all over him, chest to chest.

The kiss becomes messy, a clash of teeth and lips and tongues. You are sure the thing running through your veins is not blood anymore, but liquid fire, consuming every cell of your body and setting you ablaze with desire.

“Woah, you're fucking blurry” 

“Hold on, love. I have to-”

One of his arms leaves your waist and reaches up, until his fingers are wrapped around the slim, golden frame of his glasses, taking them off in a way that should be considered illegal in at least twenty countries. All smooth and seductive with that little grin of his.

God, he was so beautiful like this. All worked up and breathless, laying underneath you like the tastiest meal you ever had the pleasure to taste and-

For a split second the room falls silent, not a single sound can be heard inside those four walls.

You blink a few times, enough to let his words sink in.

And when they do you can't help but burst out laughing.

A real, genuine laugh coming straight from your belly and echoing through the room like you had just heard the joke of the century.

James’ eyes are wide in disbelief, flabbergasted by your reaction. But his mouth is stretched in an incredulous grin, sprinkled with a glint of mirth as he himself can’t stop the chuckle bubbling in his throat.

“Are you making fun of my blindness ? How cruel, Y/N” there is not an ounce of offense in his tone, just light-hearted and hilariously exaggerated teasing.

“Me ?” the fake and over the top innocence in your voice makes him smile even harder, the little dimple on his left cheek that you adored so much peeking through. You dip forward, leaving a kiss on those dreamy lips of his before whispering right against them “I wouldn't even dream of it” 

“Oh, you wouldn't ?” he cocks a perfectly arched brow in a challenging and yet adorable manner, eyes sparkling with mischief as his fingers start poking at your ribs, making you squirm and giggle like a middle schooler.

“No ! No, no, no ! Jame-”

He is laughing too, now. Glasses back in their place and eyes glistening with joy and pure adoration as he looks at you struggling not to lose a lung from the almost hysterical shriek coming from your lips at the ticklish attack he had you under.

You are so focused on not collapsing from the laughter and the skillful way his fingers move in every place he knew was the most ticklish for you, that you don't even register the way his hands suddenly stop.

They land on your hips, holding them in a delicate but firm grip, and, before you know it, you are being flipped over. Your back makes contact with the mattress of your bed as the delicious weight of your boyfriend’s sculpted body settles over you. 

You let out a yelp of surprise at the sudden change of position, a sound that threatens to turn into a full moan considered your current situation.

James is now on top of you, and the breath almost gets knocked out of your lungs as you admire him in his full glory.

His hair is wild and messy, but they frame his face in a way both so beautiful and so sexy that it makes your heart stop beating and your body run hotter. His eyes are still crinkled up in the ghost of a smile, but the haziness in them, that glint of adoration and reverence as he looks at you through his eyelashes, renders you speechless. His golden specks are hung a bit low on the bridge of his nose, giving him an adorable but mouth watering beautiful look. His lips are curled up in a half smile, playful and gorgeous and so, so incredibly sensual that you are not even sure if he knows the power that mouth has on you.

“Cat got your tongue, love ?” he brushes his nose with yours as he murmurs the question right on your lips, leaving a kiss on your cheek right after.

You wish you could just function like a normal person and tell him that, no, your tongue is definitely still in its place and it works perfectly fine, thank you. But your boyfriend is shirtless on top of you, with your legs still wrapped around his hips and that deadly handsome grin plastered on his face. Suddenly, the only thing you can think about are some other couple of ways in which your mouth could definitely be useful. 

“I-” you gulp loudly as you try not to drool at the sight of his muscles flexing right before your eyes “-what ?”

He lets out a chuckle, his head hung low as his shoulders shake with laughter. His wild locks tickle your chin and you can feel the ghost of his smile pressed lightly on your collarbone

You can’t help but follow him as the delightful sound of his laugh echoes through the room, spreading a warmth in your heart that you had never felt before meeting James.

When he lifts his head back up and his eyes find yours again, all sparkling with joy and fondness, you really think your heart is seconds away from bursting in your chest.

“Am I really that distracting ?” there is still a hint of that cocky smirk on his face, but it fades into something sweeter as he catches the light blush blossoming on your cheeks.

“You know perfectly well that I stop functioning properly when you are on top of me, Potter” your grumbling tone doesn’t faze him one bit, he just dips his head lower and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

“Really ? I hadn’t noticed” the unimpressed deadpan look you give him makes him chuckle again and you can feel the vibration right on your chest with how close he is.

“Sorry, sorry” his laughter dissipates, replaced by a more relaxed smile.

“If it’s of any consolation-” the hand not busy holding his upper body up and preventing his full weight to be laid on you, reaches the supple flesh of your thigh, letting his fingers dance on the exposed skin as they please “-my brain stops working, too” 

His mouth starts a journey that begins on your lips and slowly and tortourously ends on your neck, which seems to be his favorite place to worship to make your brain short-circuit.

“Mmh, does it actually ?” you don’t know how the hell you manage to let a single word out, especially in that teasing tone, as you are sure nothing except pure filthy sounds threaten to come out of your throat.

He grins against your skin before lifting his head up once again.

“Oh, trust me. It does” he whispers sensually against your lips “In every position you have me in”

Yes, you could definitly live like this.

I am not sure if I am a 100 % satisfied with this, but I tried my best.

I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading 💗

[askoverkill]

Food time!

transcript below

That!!! was the tastiest thing I've ever eaten!!!!

Hehe, you're just saying that.

I'm not!!! You're the best cook in the whole world?!?!!!!

You eat just like Siffrin! That's soooo cute!!!!

I'm cute?! I'm full! This is the best night of my life!!!!

Siffrin, do you not feed this kid enough?

(You only met a couple of days ago.) (So, no, you don't feed this kid.)

I haven't had a home cooked meal since I was last home! We could never eat this good on the road.

Sorry to interrupt, but, now that we've eaten, I had something I want to say.

(...This again.)

I'm incredibly lucky to have you as my party. Thank you, I wouldn't have been able to do this without you all.

Tomorrow will be dangerous, but...

I believe in us! We can kill the Director together!

Yeah! Let's do this!

Yay! God murder!

That's the spirit, Mirabelle.

(Wait, HUH???)

[sodaneko]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟒: 𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞

♫ Adrienne Lenker - Angels

I don't really like you, I just wanna kiss you I don't know how to love you, but somedays, I miss you Oh I just wanna see you there, sleeping on my floor With the ache inside to ride the mighty wind and nothing more

✰ 𝐜𝐰: discovering more y/n lore in this one. implied child neglect (no detailed description), brief death mention but in a more lighthearted way (if that still squicks you skip the 8th slide of the convo between Makki & y/n) written part between the handwritten collage and SMAU parts.

⭅ back to m.list

Another sold out night. The lively sea of voices is slowly quieting down, familiar and new faces going either home or out dancing for the night. Onigiri Miya attracts all kinds of people, there’s a plate for everyone. He wouldn’t want it any other way. At the end of day, everyone needs to eat, no matter their background or story. And if they all collide in the tiny universe of his shop, even better.

There’s only around a handful people left when Osamu starts his nightly routine of cleaning and preparing for tomorrow. Ever since he opened his own shop, he understands his old captain a little better. Repetition, perseverance, and diligence–it does feel good. Helps him to unwind after a long day of shaping rice balls, mincing ingredients and ringing up orders. Wherever a hand is needed, he is there.

“It’s on the house,” Osamu says smiling, placing two cold bottles of ramune on the counter where Bokuto and Akaashi are sitting, huddled together like two lovebirds.

It’s the same spot where he saw her crying, her hands jittery when she wiped her cheeks, obviously flustered but unable to stop the tears from falling either. He could see how hard she tried to hold them back, the small wobble of her bottom lip, the clenching and unclenching of her fists. How she still took photos of her plate, clearly knowing which angle and lightning was best, practiced. The small gleam of excitement despite everything in her glassy eyes. Her palms pressed together in a silent gesture of appreciation after she finished her meal. Osamu couldn’t help but think that this wasn’t her first time holding her crown up like this, when everything inside of her was cracking. 

He hasn’t stopped thinking about her ever since. 

Not when he ran after her to find her on the empty playground, dimly lit by the light of the vending machine. Not when she hesitantly accepted the brown paper bag he shoved into her still trembling hands. Not when she kind of magically pulled out a box of the tastiest sweet treat he ever had in his entire life, her voice suddenly more calm once she started rambling about the process of making it.

Osamu felt drawn to her in a way he couldn’t fathom in words, like an invisible pull inside of him.

Had he been upset over her bad review? Maybe a little. But whatever hint of annoyance he felt when reading it over his morning tea quickly vanished once he dove deeper into her blog. There was so much love between every line she wrote. She was witty and smart and always a little hungry; for life and the next plate in front of her. He found himself nodding along when she shared about her experience in culinary school and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of deep admiration for her openness about mental health and the cruel sides of working in food service. Osamu knew best how grueling it can be, striving to do better. 

Three whole days. That’s how long it took him to read through her entire blog, more than ten years of her life. He read it over breakfast, in between short breaks at work, leaning against the backdoor while waiting for the daily delivery, at night when he brushed his teeth. Several times he told himself that he should just close the damn tab, that it was just a drunk and petty review and that they’ll never cross paths again.

Here lay the problem though–he wanted to see her again. 

Preferably when she was not upset over something (or worse: him), but honestly any scenario would do. The cap she forgot at his shop is now hanging from his coat rack at home, silently greeting him every night after work. He can’t help but wonder if she’ll really come around again one day to pick it up. Osamu was no dick, just a little petty himself, and he'd send the cap off with her roommate Akaashi if there was no way in hell that she’d ever return to Osaka again. But when she unblocked and followed him on Twitter the other night, that must have been a glimmer of hope, right? Even though she’s been mostly hostile so far in her replies.

But they’d get there. 

Some day.

Probably.

“Samu? Saaamuuuu?” 

Osamu blinks out of his daze and realizes that not only has he been polishing the same glass for five minutes straight now, but Bokuto is also leaning over the counter, shoving a phone under Osamu’s nose for him to see. He throws the kitchen towel over his shoulder and takes it, eyes on the bright screen. 

“Look, look,” Bokuto urges him with a grin while Akaashi next to him smiles a bit more subtle, but knowingly. “Keiji just talked about how they were having a barbeque a few days ago on their rooftop. Y/N prepared a feast for them, see?”

The photo is bright and colorful, a whole arrangement of various small plates assembled on the table, each holding some delicacy. Dips, grilled veggies, pita (which looks like it was handmade), olives, stuffed peppers, a small cheese platter, cut fruit, pastel purple drinks (lavender syrup, Osamu remembers)... but what Osamu ends up zooming in is not the food but her, sitting at the table with the sleeves of her oversized shirt rolled up casually and smiling brighter than the late summer sun–wearing his cap.

No. No, no, no. 

His heart did not just skip a beat, no fucking way. 

Oh, he was in deep. 

“She won’t admit it, but she likes it,” Akaashi says as if he read Osamu’s thoughts. He hands the phone back to him and a small voice in the back of his head is tempted to ask for the photo, just so he can stare at it a little longer (for the food, he lies to himself), but he knows she wouldn’t want that. Osamu is not sure if he wants it, either. It doesn’t feel right. Maybe he can get her an Onigiri Miya shirt as well as a matching apron and snap his own photo one day, and then… 

Fuck.

What was he even thinking?

But the stupid, wide smile on his face just won’t falter.

✽ 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫…

like i said, this chapter is a love letter to Makki in disguise

y/n would spend all big holidays at the Hanamaki family home, even her own birthday would be celebrated there lovingly

she has gone no contact with her birth family after she graduated from high school

the cooking TV show has been one of the most stressful events in her entire life and she still can't watch clips from it without wanting to die from cringe (she did really great though)

her approach to anything in life is a constant "oh shit oh no oh bad bad bad" and "fuck it we ball" and it amazingly works for her. most of the time.

y/n always leaves some money on the table when she's gone for longer than 24h because she is afraid the food in the fridge might not be enough (it's always enough)

no one of the roommates knows where the Hello Kitty condoms came from but they've been a staple in this household ever since

also a first Osamu POV!! i was waiting to finally write this

Akaashi is PLOTTING isn't he

y/n was very tempted to deep fry the cap but then came to the conclusion that it would be a waste of oil probably

or maybe she's just lying to herself. we'll get more into this later

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@brithedemonspawn @gigiiiiislife @yuminako @notverymarley @krissiekris

@wyrcan @kentocalls @simp-simp-no-mi @uncovered-mad-man @honey-deku

@yukichan67 @dailyakira @nu-suave @zq13 @morgan-lowell

@ellouisa17 @toges-cough-syrup

send me an ask or dm to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[vi-enti]

almost missed said flight, great start great start

me, every time i book a flight: i should go for early and cheap, i don’t want to waste a day traveling and then have the day be over when i get there!

me, every night before said flight: kay, haven’t packed, probably won’t sleep, and the hotel doesn’t even open until like four hours after i get there… whose fucking decision was this??

[sitkowski]

punish || part one

one || i want to know what it feels like

pairing: incubus!jolly x f!reader cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ (for this chapter) allusions to mind manipulations, murder, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation. word count: 1.8k author's notes: okay and we're off! this one is gonna be a wild ride and it's my first multi chaptered fic in a while. chapter title comes from "onanist" by ethel cain, divider by @saradika-graphics.

⇉ masterpost || punish masterpost || playlist || taglist signups

There is a very attractive boy at the bar with silver hair that keeps looking Jolly’s way. He’s been sitting in a booth in the back for hours now, people watching. He’s selective about his meals, not about their gender. He can look at a person and see how well they will feed him, how they will taste. Some will last him a week, others mere hours. It’s been hundreds of years, more than he cares to recount now, but he still feels that rush of picking out the perfect meal, seeing the desperation in their eyes as they offer him everything they have.

Incubus. Sleep demon. Devil. Nightmare. He’s heard them all and he’s embraced what he is. He hasn’t felt remorse about the things that he has done to survive in a very long time. Lack of humanity, lack of conscience, call it what you will. He likes to think of it as surviving. If that means picking off a few club kids here and there to satiate his appetite for this evening, then so be it. It’s all food to him; emotions, sexual energy, the act itself. He isn’t fond of taking people against their will very often, and there are plenty of willing people who just need a little nudge in the right direction.

As he passes through the crowd to reach the bar, he siphons a little bit of sexual energy as he goes; a touch here, a glance there. The place is crowded, and so many bodies pressed together leave Jolly feeling high almost. Humans are very predictable and Jolly is a little vain, if he’s being honest with himself. He uses the fact that he is attractive to his advantage, like now as he approaches the bar and leans against it, giving that silver haired boy his most charming smile.

A little nudge.

It’s easy enough to lead him outside to his demise. The mouth of the alley behind the bar is dark and Jolly backs him into a corner, lowering his mouth just inches from his. He wonders what he looks like to this boy, if he can see through the human glamour he’s come to consider his skin. Jolly reaches up, dragging his fingers over his cheek, watching them lengthen against his pale flesh.

“You’re a fine meal indeed,” he whispers, and the boy’s mouth curves into a smile.

“Thank you.”

“No,” Jolly’s voice grows deeper and he presses one of those nails into the boy’s neck. Blood wells around the wound and he pulls it back to lick it away from his fingers. He tastes like iron and ripe fruit. “Thank you.”

The boy trembles in his arms as the poison takes hold, and Jolly honestly loves this part. Watching the life force, the soul and the tastiest part of a human, be exhaled like smoke that he leans in to take into himself as if he were shotgunning a cigarette. He takes it greedily and the boy doesn’t struggle. The poison doesn’t allow it, something Jolly’s always been a little grateful for. Not because he doesn’t like to inflict pain but because it makes it easier to get away with leaving the poor boy’s body in the alley to be found at a later time.

His hands twitch as he steps back to make sure that he left the boy hidden as well as looking somewhat comfortable. If it weren’t for the blood soaking into his pale blue shirt, the poor soul would just look as if he were sleeping. He’s fed one hunger but there’s always another waiting for him. Sometimes he combines the two, and sometimes he’ll only pick someone up to either be a meal, or to warm a spot in his bed for a while and they get to leave with their lives in the morning.

Jolly makes his way back into the bar, looking for a meal of another kind.

It seems like the most cliche thing in the world; your friends have abandoned you at the bar, and you find yourself having a conversation with a guy that leads to more drinks and more conversation and sitting close to one another like you’re in the middle of a meet cute romcom movie. But the two of you have been talking for over an hour, and maybe you’re imagining the connection you feel. A spark, or whatever. The way he makes you feel as if you’re the only person at this bar.

You don’t question bringing him home with you.

At least you remembered to get his first name. Joakim—call me Jolly, everyone does—is a perfect gentleman on the short walk from the bar to your tiny apartment. He drapes his leather jacket over your shoulders and he walks closer to the street, keeping his hand on your lower back the whole way. Maybe you should feel nervous, bringing a gorgeous stranger back to your place. You did tell your friends you weren’t leaving alone, but that was the most you did.

There's a brief moment where you think you've made a mistake, but then Jolly's touching you, hands warm as they brush against the skin beneath your top while he backs you up against your apartment door to kiss you. You immediately feel breathless with want and you bring your arms up around his shoulders, rising up on your tiptoes as he pulls you hard against his body. Only the sound of his jacket hitting the floor with a slap draws you away, and you shakily pick it up and shove it into his hands before you dig through your purse, sighing as he presses himself against your back. 

You can feel him hard against you through the fabric of your skirt and you manage to get the door unlocked, reaching back to fist a hand in his shirt and yank him inside. Immediately he's on you again, fingers sliding into your hair to cup the back of your neck and push you into the nearest wall. Your hands clutch his face, and you can feel how hot his skin is, he's almost burning up. You’ve never felt this needy for someone before, and maybe you should be more concerned.

He grasps your chin, pushing your head back to lick a line under your jaw and drag his teeth over your pulse point. Your panties are instantly soaked just from a little bit of kissing, and you let your head fall back against the wall as he clenches his fingers harder in the hair at the nape of your neck.

When Jolly lifts his head to look into your eyes, your breath hitches in your chest. He looks inhuman, eyes nearly black and his hair hanging in his face. The corner of his mouth tilts upward and he steps back swiftly, so fast you almost slide down the wall.

“Why don’t you show me where your bedroom is, beautiful?”

His words pull at something low in your stomach and you nod, trying to step away from the wall. Before you can make it very far, he’s pulling you back, and kissing you breathless again. You fall into his chest, whimpering and trying to pull him down the short hallway at the same time. At first, he’s unmovable, but he eventually relents and you lead him into your bedroom. He doesn’t bother to look around at anything. It doesn’t really bother you. Not when his hands slide beneath your sweater and he tugs it over your head, throwing it aside. He lowers the cups of  your bra, stroking your nipples leisurely with his thumb while he wets his bottom lip with his tongue. Your eyes track the movement greedily, unable to voice how much you want him. The idea of speaking right now is entirely lost on you. Finally, you reach behind yourself to undo the hooks, pulling the fabric away and dropping it by your feet

Jolly sinks down to his knees in front of you, and you watch raptly as he reaches up beneath your skirt to pull your underwear down your thighs. They get caught around your boots and he helps you out of them, clenching the fabric in his fist for a moment before he brings it up to his face and presses his nose into the balled up lace. Your skin flushes at the sight and he looks up at you before he tosses them onto your growing pile of clothes.

"Do you know what I want to do to you? I want to worship every inch of your skin, I want to make you scream. I want to eat you alive."

You nod, and he keeps staring at you until you realize that he wants you to actually give him permission to touch you further. “Yes, please.”

His fingers trail up and down your thighs, each pass lighting your skin on fire. You realize that he’s not looking at your face, he’s watching as your wetness is starting to run down your inner thigh. It doesn’t really register how turned on you actually are, until he stands up fluidly and tells you to get out of the rest of your clothes. He doesn’t take off his own, and this should strike you as odd, but it doesn’t.

The second he buries his face between your thighs, you come, sudden and sharp. Jolly doesn't stop, licking you through it. Your hands come down to grasp the back of his head, twisting into the strands and tugging hard. He growls against your cunt and you feel the vibrations of it, your entire body trembling in pleasure as your thighs tighten helplessly around his head. He's already dragging you towards your second orgasm, tongue flicking over your clit before he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard. Your back arches off the bed and you choke out a sobbing moan as he brings you over the edge again.

Your eyes widen as Jolly begins to lick at you again, and you want to tell him to stop, that it's too much, but your words die in your throat. You're practically riding his face as you come a third time, grabbing a pillow to pull over your face to muffle your screams so your neighbors don't hear.

When he finally lets you breathe, your hips are still twitching and tears are in your eyes. His mouth trails softly up your stomach, over the side of your breast and he plucks the pillow from your hands. His face is wet with your arousal and he looks smug. You finally find the sense to reach between your bodies to get to the front of his pants, but he grabs your wrist.

“This was just for you,” he assures you, voice coming out rough. “And maybe it gives me an excuse to see you again.”

It sounds so reasonable, even though you had thought this was going to be nothing more than a one night stand. When you walk him to the door a short time later, he says he’s going to call you but you don’t get your hopes up.

You’re probably never going to see him again.

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae @rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses @thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens @collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp @wonh0z @xxrainstorm @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @kait16xo

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[designation-ward]

>//Establishing remote connection...

Heyy, I apologize if this is a little forward, or in any way rude, but I've got a sentient mass of greywash in my life that's pretty damn important to me, but she can't actually, technically, communicate? (Not in any anthropocentric way, at least). And I want her to be as safe and happy as possible, so, I was wondering;

What are the best/"tastiest" things for greywash to eat, if there are any? Are there any materials that you prefer over others? Anything you recommend for "sweet" treats or light snacks?

Thank you in advance.

>//Your fellow Corsair, Fallow.

Hey Fallow! It’s really cool you’re reaching out like this, I think the bond you have is cool and awesome!

Keep in mind my answers are gonna be shaped by the fact that I started out human and am also not quite just greywash , but regardless-

Light snacks: I like insulation or drywall. doesn’t take very much effort to break down and it’s kinda crispy. like potato chips! if you’d rather not tear down your walls, balsa wood and suchlike is similar for me

Sweet treats: printer feedstock is enjoyable for me: the way it’s really matter dense and relatively easy to deconstruct is analogous to the amount of sugar sweets have easily accessible for me in terms how l perceive it. I tried out tungsten once and it was really filling but also very, very good

My favourite thing to eat ever is again a little byproduct of the nonstandard nature of my substrate: I really, really enjoy subsuming hostile greywash. the way I’m built makes me a lot more stable and self-sufficient than most swarms so it’s like working up a good sweat and then having a great meal right after. besides that, though, something about the way graphite’s built makes it nice. it’s like a kinda soft sweet snack for me

Hope this helps!

//WARD\\

[microwave-core]

What do you think about a reader who likes to eat late at night? They will sometimes escape their bed and their partner's arms to cook themselves a secret late-night meal. Any pokemon character you like

I've decided to go with Diantha for this because idk I want to write something for Diantha I miss my movie star wife.

It all starts when you and Diantha take the next big step in your relationship by moving in with each other. Due to how busy she is, it's very unlikely that she'd ever stay over at your place for the night or vice versa, so she wasn't very privy to your late night snacking.

She wakes up in the middle of the night, still half-asleep, when she realizes that you are no longer in her arms. Naturally, her sleep addled mind assumes you just shifted away during the night, only to find the bed cold and empty when patting around. She doesn't have to sit there for long to figure out where you had gone, as the loud, metalic clatter of pots being shifted around in the cabinet echoes from your shared kitchen.

Enter that one scene from the Rugrats where one of the dad's is making mac and cheese or something in the dead of night and his wife comes in like why are you making mac and cheese in the dead of night? and he's like I've lost control of my life. You know the one, right? Right.

Now, knowing that your beloved girlfriend was peacefully asleep a few rooms over, you tried to get a pot out of the cabinent as quietly as possible in order to conjure up your late night snack, but such is a useless endevor. If the crash of pots and pans didn't make you cringe, turning around to see Diantha standing in the doorway did.

It's a little awkward. She's still shaking off the remnants of sleep, leaving her a bit lost for words. She just shakes her head, already accepting that this is likely another one of your weird quirks that she'll get used to. And since she's already up, she plops herself on a barstool (bc she's got money and a fancy little kitchen bar) and joins you for your mandatory late night snack.

Ok. Scenario over, you get the deal. At first, she's honestly a bit worried. Were you not eating enough? Was there something wrong with her cooking or the takeout you've been getting? Did you have some dietary restriction she just didn't know about? You reassure her that, no, everything's fine. That you are simply a conissuer on all things midnight snack.

With her worries settled, she doesn't mind your habits. Mostly. Waking up to a cold bed in the middle of the night is never pleasent, even when she gets used to it and knows that you're just in the kitchen. She wants to hold you all snug and tight in her arms after a hard day of work, damn it.

If she's not too tired, she'll slip into her slippers and wade into the kitchen, finding you russeling through drawers and cabinets. Whether you're just slapping together a sandwich or working towards the tastiest ramen, she'll join in and keep you company. Won't talk much, too tired to likely, just enjoying your company.

If the exhastion hits too hard, she'll simply wait for you to come back, dozing in and out of conciousness untill the mattress dips beside her. Honestly, she might be a bit pouty, somewhat upset that you left her so cold and alone, but immedately caves once you shimmy closer, enveloping you in the warmest and sweetest of snuggles. Diantha isn't the pouty kind imo, but she absolutely can be when she's tired and has been denied cuddling privledges.

In terms of physicality, Diantha isn't the strongest out there. She doesn't have a death grip that requires olympic level flexablitiy and stealth to escape or anything like that. But she is a light sleeper, and can easily be awoken by your attempts to leave. If she wakes up while you try to escape to the kitchen, she will try to pull you closer, not wanting her warm darling to leave her arms just yet. She does let go eventually, she knows youre just hungry.

When I made my headcanons about the champions cooking abilities, I spoke my truth about Diantha being a great chef, but being too busy to cook often, and I stand by that. She does like to cook for you when possible, it makes her heart flood with warmth when she sees your face light up upon tasting the meal she made just for you. And when she does make time to cook, she makes enough to have leftovers, storing them where she knows you'll find them when you inevetably wake in the night for a fresh meal.

In general, Diantha doesn't mind you eating late in the night, just being a little bothered when you aren't in bed because it gets cold without you. As long as you're still taking care of yourself, she'll be as supportive as possible of your weird eating habits.

[zooophagous]

What is one meal you could have one last time and never be allowed to eat ever again but it was totally worth it because it's amazing?

There was this one time, the first time I ever visited my favorite hiking spot as luck would have it- that I discovered a feral grapevine.

Grapevine grows all over random parts of this nature preserve. It's invasive and gets everywhere and it's sort of a pain in the ass and the stupid things don't even produce fruit reliably.

Except that day, it did. It produced exactly one grape. One MASSIVE grape, like three times the size of any grape I'd ever seen before or since. Larger than even the ridiculous giant cultivated rare breeds I sometimes see in Costco.

It was so big I wasn't sure it WAS a grape.

But, being the fool I am, I decided I was gonna taste it. And wouldn't you know it, that was the single tastiest piece of fruit I've ever had in my entire life. It was so perfectly sweet and juicy and it ran down my chin and it was cool in the middle with perfectly crisp skin and I had some sort of spiritual experience with this singular perfect grape.

The vine has NEVER produced another like it. I visit the area often and there has never been another grape growing there at all. It's been years.

I want that fucking grape, man. I want it.

[inamindfarfaraway]

In “The Summoning”, Tinky obviously singles out Pete because he’s weird about the Spankoffski brothers. Blinky taunts Grace because she has religious trauma related to shame and external judgement and lack of privacy and such.

But oh, the Implications of Nibbly specifically addressing Steph. Nibbly’s domain is hunger in every sense. He not only regularly craves the freedom to roam the Earth and has formed and maintained a cult to satiate this desire, but he finds unmet needs and wants delicious. The most desperate, unfulfilled, yearning human souls are the tastiest to him. And he says, “Stephanie, yum yum!” He’s happy to see her. Because she is delectably hungry.

Her father is abusive and uncaring, as well as constantly modelling and encouraging strong ambition. Her mother is gone. Her popular friends are shallow and don’t know her very well; compare their superficial school gossip to the more familiar, emotionally vulnerable and impassioned scene between Pete, Ruth and Richie. Her phone is what she has the most attachment to. She struggles in school and thinks she’s stupid. I elaborate on these points in this post, but overall, every aspect of Steph’s life before a certain bespectacled nerd enters it is a recipe for a very lonely, insecure person. A person who feels empty and needs to be filled, who's been starved of love, comfort, happiness and hope. Nibbly’s favourite food.

Doesn’t Solomon remind you of someone we met in Nightmare Time? Another critical, mocking father to a daughter with no siblings; another man of power, wealth and influence in Hatchetfield who knows about the place’s dark, supernatural underbelly and has dealt with the Lords in Black? Doesn’t even the detail of Steph’s phone being what she values most sound familiar?

'Narrator: She looks down at the shattered remains of her most prized possession. Her veins bulge, her blood bubbles thinking of all the things she never got to back up on there.

Zoey: My pictures!'

— “Honey Queen”.

'Stephanie: Be careful with that, Dad. Please, Daddy?

Solomon: I'll be careful with it. I'll carefully smash it with this hammer.

Stephanie: You wouldn't. Not even you would do something that evil! You know all my pictures are on there!'

— Nerdy Prudes Must Die.

Steph is well on her way to becoming the sweetest woman in Hatchetfield.

Except… in every timeline, she meets Pete. He believes that she is more than anyone else sees and better than she thinks she is. Something real and unconditional fills her cracks. Something warm sits securely in her stomach. Someone is willing to die for her, someone cherishes her more than anything, and that readily given love changes her fate. Steph is to Nibbly the perfect meal just barely out of reach. Forbidden fruit; it's always the sweetest.

Perhaps Pete is in the same boat. After all, Tinky says “I’ll have the whole set in my toybox”; he will, if the deal works out how Tinky wants, while “Time Bastard” establishes that Ted already is in the Bastard’s Box before he dies. Pete isn't yet. He might still not be even after the deal, since Grace pays the price instead of him. Grace is involved and the situation forcing them to make the deal exists, in a roundabout way, only because Steph got involved with him. Maybe Pete and Steph save each other.

[baldurspeen69420]

This is not BG3 related at all disclaimer, just blowing off steam about my life:

My girlfriend just got diagnosed with Celiac disease, and with her circumstances and diagnosis, that means no gluten and no dairy forever (as far as we know currently)

She's devastated and goddamn it's hard to see someone you love so sad, but I'm taking the fuck it we ball approach

If she's no gluten and no dairy, guess what so am I - bread can kiss my ass!!!!!!!!!!

It's going to be a huge change but FUCK IT WE BALL!! I've already made a Pinterest, I'm following a bunch of new celiac Youtubers, I am going to learn to make the tastiest damn gf and df meals and baked goods ever conceived or I will die trying AND I will be that girl calling the restaurant beforehand if we go out to make sure everything is legit and safe

This is my whole life now this is my new personality, BG3 is now my second personality, I'm Celiac chick now

[breakfastteatime]

Comfortember Day 27: Soup

“Sit down, kid, and stop looking so pathetic.”

Cal blinks at the ship’s captain. Greez is a strange guy. One minute, Cal’s sure the guy would prefer to eject Cal into space, and the next, he’s feeding Cal the way you would a starving tooka – nervously poking comfort food in its direction.

Greez is about to poke comfort food in Cal’s direction.  

Good. Cal’s stomach is empty and rumbling. All that running around Zeffo gave him an appetite.

The scent of spices fills the whole ship. While Greez is hard at work cooking, Cere is reading something on her datapad and BD has snuck into the cockpit to run some scans while Greez is distracted. It’s so peaceful, so… so… homely, Cal is surprised to find tears in his eyes. He’s reminded of meals with Master Tapal when it would be just the two of them in his quarters. Master Tapal encouraged Cal to explore new foods and pretended not to notice when Cal snuck extra food onto his plate. More recent memories surface too, memories of Prauf stirring up whatever ingredients he’d manage to scrounge together for Cal’s birthday meal.

A hand falls onto his shoulder. Cal jolts, looks up and sees Cere. He hadn’t heard her approach. “Why don’t you wash up before lunch?” she suggests.

Nodding, Cal slides into the refresher. He squats down and hunches over, smothering the sound of his sobs with his knees. It takes a few minutes, but he gets himself under control. He stands, washes his hands and his face, makes sure it’s not obvious he’s just had a breakdown, and returns to the galley. BD’s on the table now, standing alongside a big bowl of soup. Greez and Cere are already there, Greez pulling fresh bread apart and sharing it out equally. BD can’t resist a scan. Greez glares but Cere silences him before he can complain. Cal sits down, picks up his spoon and tries the soup. It’s warm, spicy without burning his tongue, and holds just a hint of sweetness. He dunks his bread and feels it melt in his mouth.

It's one of the tastiest meals he’s had in his life.

Greez says nothing as he ladles extra into Cal’s bowl.

Twice.

By the time he’s done, Cal’s stomach is full to bursting. He slumps against the back of his chair. “Wow, Greez, that was amazing.”

Caught by surprise, Greez splutters for a moment. Cere nudges him, restarting his communication systems. “You’re welcome.”

…maybe Greez does like him?

Cere gets up and starts clearing away. “I’ll do the dishes.”

Whooping, BD lands on Cal’s stomach.

“Noooo, BD, stop! I’ll explode!”

Cere catches BD. “Enough. No one wants to clean an exploded Cal off the decks.”

“Hey, no exploding Jedi on my ship!” Greez grouses. “Cal, help Cere. Droid, behave. I’m gonna make sure we’re still on course for the literal warzone you’ve decided we need to fly right into.”

“Greez?” Cal calls.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe someday you can teach me how to make that soup?”

“I’ll teach you so long as you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Greez jabs a finger at Cere. “You’re safer in a kitchen than she is.”

[keybladeciel]

Day Three of @khoc-week and it is about connections.

Day 3: Connections

This is going to be a special case. It is going to be a blip from Ciel's own view from the aftermath of a canon event he broke. It involves Strelitzia.

I present you an excerpt from short story called Date Night at Twilight Town.

Content Warning: Contains mild language

The Twilight Town Bistro had been a hot spot for couples ever since it opened. While the only food was French cuisine from Remy's home world from Paris, France, he worked his tail off to gather the ingredients to create some of the tastiest dishes you can think of. Everyone in Twilight Town calls him 'Little Chef," but thanks to a spell by the Fairy Godmother, Strelitzia and I can understand him clearly, since he's a Norway Rat who tends to cook. You'd be surprised that a rat can make a damn good meal from what he does. Regardless on what I can say, I had to resist the urge to gush about this in my report so I can find a table for two. I haven't gone on a date with Strelitzia ever since the Datascape Apocalypse and I owed her a date night once we both got our crap together.

I waited for Strelitzia to show up at the table, reflecting on what I did to save her from that untimely end she would have faced if it wasn't for a chance encounter that the Book of Prophecies nor the Chronicler saw coming when I saved her from a fall in Daybreak Town centuries ago, despite it being two years for us. The memories were fond, ranging from the time she found me by chance during my trip to Wonderland (and subsequent speedrun to save Alice from an execution by the pettiest queen and tyrant I have ever seen, let alone had the pleasure of chewing out for some bullcrap despite risking the death penalty for pissing off the Queen of Hearts, not like I cared if it meant doing the right thing) to the ball in Castle of Dreams when we ensured Cinderella had the time of her life and even the Balamb Garden High School Homecoming Dance. Despite having dated before, we haven't gone on one in a while and she was the one who suggested it to me, hoping that it will cheer me up and give me a well needed break in my search for a means to save Celeste, who is probably off fighting for her life in Quadratum unless I use a portal to get there. For now, the rescue can wait as the Guardians of Light give Kairi some practice on the field and my achievements as the Rebel of Fate reap some good rewards.

Strelitzia arrived after me wearing a white dress that is familiar to me. I then realized it was similar to the dress she's worn during the Daybreak Town years, just more appropriate for someone entering her junior year in high school. She has her hair down rather in her usual twin tails style and she doesn't have the detached sleeves on. Her boots were replaced with heels similar to her footwear during the ball in the Castle. Fittingly, she seems to have known I would shave and straighten my messy hair up for the date night this time around, despite being a Miqo'te. We both sat down and ordered our food before discussing what we have done to get here.

[androphagos]

Look at that smile...

When one of the most popular foot meat connoisseur of the country was a guest at this morning TV show, the host had this priceless reaction when he was served this delicious foot that was previously cooked on air. The foot was harvested in the studio, from one of the crew members who happened to be chosen through a tele-vote, after pictures and videos of the bare feet of the "tastiest" men of the team were presented to the public on TV, and on their website.

The presenter himself was one of the "candidates" to be cooked on air, but he was lucky that the majority of his audience appreciates his work and didn't want to see him go in this way.

Because of sparing his life, he promised daily presents and vouchers for a whole year, to people that win the daily lotteries. I am glad to have been one of the winners a few months ago. I won a free meal at one of the best restaurants of the city. I promise to share more about my experience there in another post.

[thommi-tomate]

Special Müller Mail: RDY edition

Hello everyone

and welcome to the Müller Mail Special.

FC Bayern's season is now officially over. Now the home European Championship is just around the corner and I can hardly wait to experience a great football festival in our country - as a player on the pitch, but also as a football fan.

We will be talking in detail about this major event in the coming weeks. In this special edition of Müller Mail, I would like to tell you about a project that I have put my heart and soul into.

After months of development work, RDY Protein Meal, the new protein drink meal that I launched together with ESN, is finally on the market. I was hooked from the very first idea, back in early 2023.

But first things first.

What is RDY?

We've all been there - a hectic everyday life, little time for a balanced meal, we're on the go and still want to eat smart.

This is exactly where the RDY drinkable meal comes into play for me.

RDY stands for "ready" and is a protein drinkable meal. Together with the experts at ESN, we have worked on a recipe that delivers the best possible performance and, in my opinion, is now the tastiest drinkable meal on the market.

RDY now contains 38g of high-quality protein, fiber, important vitamins and minerals. The energy/carbohydrates come from valuable MCT oil, among other things. And what makes me particularly happy is that all four flavors taste really nice.

Why RDY?

My basic idea is to pass on my experience and knowledge of nutrition and performance.

And now I even have the opportunity to launch products on the market with my partner ESN that help me personally to nourish my body better.

ESN is one of the leading German supplement manufacturers and the collaboration has been extremely positive so far.

Our first product is RDY Protein Meal.

During the development of the RDY protein drinkable meal, I was also in the laboratory several times to fine-tune the recipe and test the taste.

Protein was an important factor here.

Science currently agrees that a sufficient protein intake is not only filling, but also essential for a healthy and efficient body. As an athlete, I try to consume around 150g of protein (1.5-2g per kilo of body weight) a day. Of course, this may vary for you, so it's best to find out.

150 grams of protein a day is not so easy to achieve, even with three freshly prepared and balanced meals. An RDY Protein Meal often comes at just the right time.

One thing is important to me: drinking meals should not replace a balanced and freshly prepared meal. Rather, they are a much better alternative to snacks with empty calories such as chocolate bars, jelly babies, potato chips and the like. To be honest, we often snack our way through the day.

This is where RDY comes in and offers an excellent solution when you need something quick and easy, but still want to provide your body with high-quality nutrients. And of course it's really tasty too 😋

My RDY favorite.

I love all the varieties, but if I had to choose a favorite, it would currently be the Milk Chocolate. The creamy chocolate flavor immediately reminds me of the delicious cocoa of my childhood.

A little Müller tip: In recent weeks, I've been drinking RDY Protein Meal in the evening with a handful of nuts and a few berries. This gives me something tasty to drink and something to bite into.

During the day, the banana flavor has currently taken the lead.

So I'm all the more excited to find out which variety you love.

Exclusively at REWE & online.

Now it's your turn.

The RDY Protein Drinking Meals are available exclusively in your REWE store. I'd be delighted if you'd pick up a drink and give it a try. For those who prefer to order online, you can do so directly from ESN using this link: To the ESN website

Your opinion on RDY counts.

Now I'm looking forward to hearing what you have to say. The initial feedback has been great and the drink is already sold out in some REWE stores. But whether it's positive or constructive - I really want to hear your honest opinion. Let me know how you like my protein drink and whether it helps you in your everyday life.

You can also send me photos or videos of you enjoying your new favorite drink. Or simply link to your Instagram or TikTok post about RDY Protein Meal.

With your permission (please be sure to add a comment) I will share some of them on my Instagram channel.

I will be giving away 3 RDY surprise packages from me among all entries.

Thank you so much for your continued support. Without you, my fans, it wouldn't be half as nice. You only win together. And that's exactly what we'll be doing at the upcoming European Championships.

Here's to an unforgettable football festival, keep your chin up and stay healthy,

Your Thomas