#holy shit I wanna eat meat

[freckleslikestars]

We talk about how flirty Mulder is in season one, but we don’t ever talk about how culpable Scully is.

[thedogsleg]

Ugh the cannibalism is soooo hot crowd who dont actually feel that way, truely bothers me only because i feel im jn the group even with a plan of what body parts my self or a partner would eat of me and in what order and i litrally think eating parts each other is the highest for of romanic intamacy for so many reasons

[mistiell]

We Keep this Love in a Photograph

summary: since Joel gifted you a polaroid camera for your birthday, you've developed a habit of sneaking pictures of him whenever possible. He doesn't think he's worth the film "wasted" (His words, not yours), but after catching you looking over your accumulated gallery, you manage to win him over.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Joel's a little self conscious, Reader's gender isn't specified, and they have hair but the length isn't specified either. If I accidentally did use a gendered term, lmk and I shall fix it. <3 NOT PROOFREAD (will likely come back to fix any mistakes later)

a/n: HOLY SHIT I'M BACK!!! This fic was inspired by this TikTok. I saw it and the Joel obsession possessed me so viscerally I had to make a comeback lmao.

**NOTE: I've linked ways to help Palestine here. If you're in a position to donate anything at all, please do! If not, you can reblog the post that's linked so it gets out to more people.

---

It started on your birthday.

You’d shared with Joel one evening, wrapped warm and snug in his arms within your soft haven of sheets, during one of those late night conversations where vulnerability doesn’t seem like a thing so daunting, that you used to love photography. Loved immortalizing things you loved or things you found beautiful. He’d asked what kind of camera you’d had, what kind of things you usually took pictures of.

“Polaroid.” you’d told him softly, fighting you keep your eyes open with his tracing shapes into the curve of your waist. “And I already told you. Whatever I found beautiful.”

The morning of your birthday, you woke to the smell of coffee and a clumsily wrapped box sitting on your bedside table with a note taped to the top; Happy birthday, honey. Love, Joel. And in smaller print near the bottom left corner; P.S. Wait until I’m here to open it. Wanna see your face.

You’d smiled, bashful, brushed your teeth in record time, scooped up the box, and made your way downstairs towards the sound sizzling and the tapping of a spatula on a pan. He gave you a good morning kiss, pretended to make a fuss about waiting until after breakfast to open it and watched with a smile as you carefully tore it open, popped off the lid, and visibly softened at first sight of the contents.

It was a polaroid camera. Coincidentally, the very same one you’d had twenty years ago.

You’d cried, he’d panicked. You hugged him so fiercely, any worry that he’d fucked the whole thing vanished as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you close.

That was months ago, and in the time since, you’ve accumulated quite the gallery. You take pictures of just about anything and everything, but your main muse is Joel.

Which is what’s led you to have half a shoe box full of polaroid of mostly him. He’s no idea of your little stash, and you intend to keep it that way. You’ve come to learn he’s got a thing about being photographed. Always nitpicking his appearance no matter what you say. He asks sometimes when he catches you why you don’t choose something nicer to look at, and your answer is generally always the same. There is nothing nicer. He walks into a room, and all you want to look at is him. Yeah, he’s got some more lines, got some more meat on his bones, his hair is a little more grey than it is brown these days. But he doesn’t see it the way you do.

He’s got crows feet and smile lines etched almost as deep as the crease between his brows. He looks healthy now that he’s actually got food to eat, meals you’re both sure to share every morning in your kitchen and every evening in the dining hall. His greys are a tangible reminder that he’s alive, that he’s survived, and that he now gets to live, and you’re incomprehensibly grateful for every russet strand turned silver. He’s all the more beautiful for all of it. And here, tucked into your armchair, polaroid pinched between thumb and forefinger, you get to commit every little detail picked up by your camera to memory.

Your gaze follows the sloping curve of his lovely nose, profile softened by the sun shining white behind. It’s only one half of his face, but the beaming smile he’s sporting makes you feel whole. His hair was just starting to get longer, then, curling near his nape and flicking round his ears to kiss his jaw.

“What’s all this?” You startle, head leaning into the plush back of the chair to look at him upside down as you press the pictures into your diaphragm. He seems curious, if a little confused.

Caught, you swallow, “If I said nothing, would you believe me?”

“Not for a second.” He smiles teasingly, bending to give you a quick peck, bottom lip warm where it slots between yours. Your hold on the photos loosen, and when his gaze dips to them, the smile shifts into something closer to a frown, a little cagey, “S’ that me?”

“Yeah.” You answer simply, before joking tentatively, “Swear I’m not a creep. You’re just pretty.”

“See now, that’s exactly what a creep would say.” He teases, and you’re glad for it – that he’s not upset. Rounding the chair, he sits on the arm, elbow propped up on the soft back of it and knuckles warm on the nape of your neck.

“Pretty.” He echoes, blowing a short puff of air out his nose, “Never been called that before.”

“Well, you are.”

He smiles again, bashful and a little disbelieving. There’s a short moment where he just looks at you like that, backs of his fingers sliding down your spine a few notches then back up in a tender line before he juts his chin toward your collection. “Show me?”

Warmth blooms in your stomach and fizzes up behind your sternum. You grin, handing him the one you were holding before sifting through the shoe box for your best works. He accepts your compliments and sweet talking reluctantly, but hangs onto your every word as you describe where you were, what you were doing, what made you sneak the picture in the first place.

You start to worry his limited responses mean he’s gotten caught up in his head until his hand slides up the side of your neck and settles over the side of your head, the warmth of his calloused palm encompassing the entirety of your ear as he guides your temple to his lips.

“Love you.” He murmurs into your hair, and the warmth sizzles like its carbonated, bubbling and burbling between the rungs of your ribs.

You turn your face, slip your fingers beneath the curtain of hair at his nape and lift your chin to kiss him soft and slow. He rubs an affectionate line into the soft skin behind your hear as he hums, vibrations thrumming against your lips.

You lean back just enough to murmur, “I love you to.”

He smiles, kisses you again. And again. And once more. He asks you to show him more of your pictures, and you oblige. It’s early evening when you’re finally through, at which point Ellie’s come home and Joel’s started on dinner. You let her sift through the polaroids while you move to join Joel at the counter.

You won’t realize until later that she’s snuck a photo of the two of you by the stove, Joel’s large palm on the small of your back where you’ve taken over stirring a pot, gazing at you like you’re the only thing he’d like to listen to for the rest of his days as you talk and talk and talk.

That one, he hangs on the fridge.

[ohnomytummy]

Hi, I have a story from this Thanksgiving that I thought this community would like, and I don't have a kink blog to post it to so I'm gonna share it here cause I know your box is always open. Lol

I'm relatively thin, severely underweight for a good chunk of my childhood, have always been poor so I've never gotten to indulge too much in feasting, not in this economy. But long backstory short, I had the house to myself for pretty much 4 days straight for Thanksgiving break, along with all the leftover food from the entire family thanksgiving.. I was asked to toss most of it because we didn't have room in the fridge and it would go bad, but I didn't want any of it to go to waste.. you can probably tell where his is going..

I have a pretty sensitive stomach since I get full pretty quick, and I'm also lactose intolerant and most meat makes me gassy (and sweaty for some reason?), but for some reason none of that mattered to me, I put a YouTube series I've been itching to watch on my phone and munched on everything that was in front of me which included:

-almost half of a turkey that had been sitting out on the table for a day

-a platter of cheese and cube/slice things and pepperoni/some other meat I forgot

-I wanna say maybe 20 small sugar cookies (the puffy Walmart ones with frosting)

-about 2 litres total of a miz of lemonade, sprite, ginger ale, and coca cola

- 5 bread rolls with melted cheese and butter

-uncounted handfuls old candy I still had from Halloween....

I didn't even realize I'd been eating so much, but I guess since it was all over the course of about a day (9 hours-ish?) It was gradual enough that I didn't realize I'd gone overboard until the end. I remember reaching for the next thing getting ready and thinking "wow i wonder how much ive eaten" and seeing that the answer was all of it. I was wearing an elastic tank top, and I looked down and holy shit I looked pregnant. The tank top is kind of long but there was maybe an inch of belly sticking out from underneath naturally, and the tank top itself was like vacuum sealed tight to my skin!

This is where stuff gets crazy. I put my hand on my stomach to rub it and I could feel it churning under my hand, from the inside ofc and through my belly. I'd been burping throughout the whole stuffing absent-mindedly, but now that it was all setting in, I felt like I was going to puke. I couldn't even feel nauseous at first, it was just PAIN in my middle and I could barely get up. I'm so glad I was alone because I was moaning and rubbing my belly with both hands, holding it as I tried to get up. I could feel myself bringing up burps with every exhale, they were like.. soft and quiet but also really deep and sick, coming out with every breath, like "... urrrrrrp.. hic-hurrrrrp... uurppp. ur-urrp... hic-hUuuurrrrrrrrrp..." and with groans after each one lmao. I made my way to the bathroom eventually and sat by the toilet, sure I was gonna be sick, but I wasn't. I almost wanted to be, but I think I was just too scared to puke. So I sat back against the tub, facing the toilet, my whole body was covered in a cold sweat atp and i was rubbing my belly, and I could feel every single rumble as it ripped through my stomach and rose up as a belch. I couldn't stop burping like I was just about crying on the bathroom floor, bloated as a tick, belching helplessly. After a few minutes the burps started slowing down, but they were much more wet when they did come up. I think the meat and lactose was probably digesting now because I actually started to feel queasy. I started holding in my burps in fear that the food might come up, but then the air started xoming out the back. Starting with small short toots, leading to nauseous farts that, much like the burps, WOULDNT STOP. I was uncontrollably farting, small short bursts every few seconds and idk how to describe it but the farts felt pukey somehow. My stomach was churning like crazy and I could hear it from the outside (still felt intense as I rubbed it too). All the while the original belches never really stopped, so I was just on the floor, gas from both ends pouring out. My stomach was so hard and tight it felt like a bowling ball attached to me and my shirt was so tight it was so hot in hindsight but I felt like I was dying in the moment. Anyways I eventually fell asleep on the floor, woke up feeling sick, burped and farted next to the toilet again and tried doing the doggy-style yoga pose (best that I could, anyways, with my bloated upset tummy still filled with rotting undigested Thanksgiving leftovers) and kept farting until out of nowhere I almost shat myself, I think the position I was in moved the air along but the air took some stuff with it, so now I had to abandon that and sit on the toilet with a trash bin next to me because I couldn't fit it between my legs (my tummy took up the room lol) and it was mostly just me being sick from both ends, along with super uncontrollable rumbly burps and farts that just would not ever fucking stop.

Once it was all out things went back to normal, other than me being really gassy for a few more days.

I will let my uh *cough* community have this 😳🥵

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 5

Masterpost

(What the frick is the bat guy about???)

They did serious damage to Lexy’s credit card in the form of a cast iron pan, a pot, basic cooking utensils and a four-person set of dishware before they even made it to the grocery store.

Peter tried not to go nuts there. He really did. But Kon had that empty kitchen! And to be honest, shopping was major wish fulfillment. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be eating all of the food he got way into it. They stocked up on easy freezer food like pizza rolls and fries. They got pasta mixes and jarred sauces and they got snacks and sweets. He even got Kon baking basics. It might take Kon a while to get into his fresh bread era, but it was going to happen. Peter was calling it now. Kon was just that kind of guy.

The last thing he got was meat. Meat and cheese and fresh vegetables. Peter ended up putting back half of what he initially put in the cart because, honestly, Kon didn’t have a massive super appetite and he didn’t know how to cook yet. Vegetables were just going to go bad, so he only got what he planned to use that night. He also stocked Kon up on breakfast supplies- bread and jam, eggs, sausage, coffee and tea and juice.

‘I wish I was staying with Kon to eat this. I’m going to be hungry again tomorrow.’

Peter pushed down that greedy little thought where it belonged. He was going to be eating lunch and dinner with Kon tonight, since they were cooking together. That was already really generous on Kon’s part. He couldn’t ask for more.

The boys ended up making spaghetti. Peter wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he could cut onion and garlic to cook meat in, shred in carrots and zucchini, and add a jar of red sauce to make something nutritionally dense that tasted really good. Kon hovered over his shoulder watching this process and making faux sports commentary. 

“Go away!” Peter shoved Kon with his shoulder, laughing. “Go start the garlic bread.”

“...Garlic bread?” Kon asked hopefully. He seemed way younger than he was sometimes. “You can make that at home?”

“You can, if you get to cutting garlic really small.” Peter tossed him a bulb without looking.

They ate dinner while watching some drama that Kon picked out on a streaming service. “Holy shit,” Kon said quietly after his first bite. He put down the plate and took a photo.

Peter snorted. Kon must have sent it to someone because his phone went off constantly after that.

He wasn’t even done eating their late lunch when he first wondered where he was going to sleep tonight. Peter stared down into his pasta like it might have some answers. When should he leave? What would he say if Kon asked for his phone number? He didn’t have one. He couldn’t give Kon the number to the phone he had on him– he was pretty sure that he really should get rid of it in case someone was tracking him. 

He should ask first. If he directed the conversation it would be easier to be normal than if he was just answering questions. So Peter swallowed hard, made himself smile, and said, “This was fun. Wanna hang out again?”

Kon noisily slurped down some sauce and wiggled in place while he chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, we should!” he agreed. “You uh, free later this week?”

He was jobless and homeless with no other acquaintances. 

“I have some time,” Peter said casually. “I’m kinda busy tomorrow, but the day after? Should I come over in the afternoon?”

“Yeah!” Kon bounced up off his seat for a moment. “We can finish the projects. Or work on them, at least.” He screwed his face up with a thought. “Can I get your handle or number, in case my work pops up?”

Peter’s smile turned fixed. “Actually, not now,” he said as casually as he could manage. “I dropped my phone in water. I just have my Dad’s old phone right now for emergencies.” He didn’t need to add that lie, but what if he needed to pull out the flip phone later? He didn’t want Kon to think that he just hadn’t wanted to give his number.

Kon laughed. “That sucks, man,” he empathized. 

Oh thank Thor, he bought it. 

The fabric was dry by then, so Peter helped Kon cut it out and sew it into place. Kon modeled his new look in the living room and then took approximately two hundred selfies while Peter worked on his project. Kon eventually flopped down on the sofa upside down and started sketching out design ideas. Peter glanced over and saw what looked like a boob window cut into some kind of top.

…Kon would look great in it. Peter didn’t comment. He smiled a little more when he went back to cutting out pieces for his own jacket.

“Smile!”

Peter looked over on reflex and cheesed. A shutter went off. “Can I send that to my friends?” Kon asked, so casually that Peter knew it mattered a lot. “Cassie says no way did I meet someone without her.”

“Go ahead.” Peter gave a thumbs up for reasons even he did not understand. Good thing he wasn’t a weird little guy! 

Kon looked relieved. There was less tension when he went back to looking at his phone. “Thanks, man. You want to think about dinner soon? You’ve been working for a couple of hours.”

Peter had to blink a few times to process that. Oh yeah, he was pretty stiff. He stretched experimentally. “You’re right,” he said, mildly surprised. “Huh. What did you have in mind?”

Kon shrugged. “Pizza?”

Peter hummed. “We can pull that off,” he decided. “We have… two more jars of marinara, one will do. Cheese, the bell peppers- yeah, that’ll work.” He stood in a smooth movement. “Could you get the flour down from where we put it- yeah, thanks.” Kon hovered back down and handed him the bag.

“I meant that we should order it,” Kon said, but he didn’t protest. “You can make pizza? At home?” He was delighted by this new information.

“You can make basically anything at home,” Peter said, because it apparently needed to be said. “Can you look up a pizza dough recipe?” He got out the salt and tried to remember where he’d put yeast.

Pizza did not go quite as smoothly as the pasta had. Kon brutalized the dough by over mixing it and the gluten developed bonds strong enough to rival the Hulk. But it was still edible! Kon was openly delighted with what he had made. Peter stole sideways glances at him, wondering if he should reassure that it was a great first try.

‘..I’m not sure he knows that it’s really tough,’ Peter decided. He said nothing. They watched one episode of Kon’s selected drama before Peter decided it was time to go.

Kon seemed surprised when Peter said that. He blinked at him a few times. “It felt like I was at the tow- a sleepover,” he said self consciously. He forced a laugh. “Yeah. You wanna leave your stuff here?”

Peter looked around Kon’s surgically clean living room and wondered if Lexy’s cleaning staff would throw away his stuff. “Yeah, sure,” he said, because it wasn’t like he had a place to store a project. “I appreciate that.”

He left not much later, making his excuses and backing out into the night with dread that he didn’t want to face curling in his gut. The feeling intensified as he got down to the lobby of Kon’s apartment building.

It was dark out, even with the streetlights on. The air was cold against his face. Peter huddled into his jacket, hand wound tightly around the strap of the bag with everything he owned in it.

At least he knew the time. It was a little past 10 pm.

He needed a shower and to sleep. The gym should be empty now. He could break back in, shower, and then go sleep on the library couch again. Even if the librarian came in early again, he could get a few hours of sleep.

He woke up again to the sound of keys in the door downstairs. This time he woke up feeling much better rested. Peter wandered blearily until he found a clocktower and realized it was nearly 9 am. Nice. He was working on his sleep debt, then. He surely hadn’t spent more than an hour between traveling to the gym, showering, and getting to the couch last night. That was maybe 9.5, 10 hours of sleep?

He left to a new hotel for a breakfast buffet. This one was particularly sad. He had two pieces of peanut butter toast and a glass of milk before he heard the front door staff quietly phone someone else asking if they had any teenagers staying at the moment. He left pretty quickly after that and walked for a while, heart pounding. The police didn’t descend on him with sirens and lights, so he was probably okay.

‘I can’t go back there.’

Later that day, Peter grimaced and took a moment to indulge in burying his face in his hands. He was overwhelmed and he still felt shitty and dirty and gross despite his shower. Maybe it was getting spotted as a homeless teen eating from the buffet? Yeah. Probably that.

He was in the library again, sitting in front of one of the older computers and hoping he'd get a reply from a potential client who had asked for some information. 

Maybe it was a little weird to spend all day in the library. He was on notice for librarians acting like they wanted him to clear out, just in case.

But, assuming no one had any problems with it, why not spend most of his daylight hours there? He could study computer science, use the computers to do his work, and be somewhere temperature controlled for free. They also had pitchers of coffee and tea for free that he took advantage of. 

He was hungry, though. He was always hungry. Maybe it had been a mistake to go to Kon’s house. It almost felt worse to be hungry again after eating everything he wanted two meals in a row. Peter suppressed despair. He was doing his best! He was taking care of himself.

"Is everything alright?" 

Peter shot up and gave a sheepish grin to the librarian. He hadn't noticed her approaching, but he'd been lost in his head. "It's fine," he said. 

The older woman gave him a sympathetic smile. "Well, let me know if there's anything I can help with. It's what I'm here for." 

Oh. Before she could turn away he blurted out, "College!" 

Her face lit up. "Are you applying?" 

"I need to." Peter wrung his hands together. "But I don't know where to start. I want to go somewhere with a strong sciences program but I think I need to go there on scholarship." 

She sat down beside him, an easy smile on her face like this was a topic that she enjoyed. “Do you care about where it is?”

Peter shook his head. “It would be best if I could stay in NYC since I know here, but I’m willing to go anywhere that meets those conditions.”

She nodded slowly. “There’s a few places I can think of.” She hesitated. “Do you expect to be eligible for testing related scholarships?”

“Yeah,” said Peter, who was so good at tests but would probably falsify the results that he needed if he didn’t manage to take tests in time. “I test well. Very well.”

“That’s great! And you said sciences? Technological sciences?” she didn’t glance at his current computer science book, but she didn’t have to. 

“Yes,” he said, not entirely sure what he should be focusing on. Engineering, to build some kind of portal? Astrophysics like Dr. Foster, to find an Einstein-Rosen bridge? He’d have to get his foot in the door to figure out what was going on in the fields here. Shit, he should have looked into that already. 

“And you would be looking to live by yourself, on campus? Or off? With family?”

“By myself,” Peter said, and wow that was depressing. “And whichever way is cheapest.” He cringed as he said it. That felt pathetic too. He wanted to say he wanted to live on campus since he’d be more likely to meet people that way. But honestly, he had no resources, at all. He couldn’t afford to be picky. 

The librarian’s smile was a bit fixed now. “I… I almost hate to suggest it, but have you considered Gotham?” She continued before Peter had to decide whether or not he should admit he didn’t know that university. “It’s a dangerous city to live in, but it’s very affordable, and there’s extensive funding for the sciences and student support services.”

“...Because it’s a dangerous city and doesn’t get many people?” Peter confirmed.

She was doing her best to keep a poker face. “That’s right. They have a brain drain situation at the moment, so the sciences are really well funded. I think you could probably go there with full support, though that might be contingent on taking an internship or job in Gotham after graduation.”

Huh. He considered it. He’d never heard of Gotham, so it had to be a city that didn’t exist back home. But so what? How bad could it be? It was like, Chicago or something? He could handle that. He was Spiderman. He was an Avenger, sort of. So he directed a real smile at the librarian. “If I could get a full scholarship there, I would go in a heartbeat,” Peter said. “Thanks for the suggestion! I’ll look into the university there.”

The librarian patted the side of his chair as she stood up. “Wonderful! Let me know if you change your mind or have any questions!”

He ended up having a lot of questions, actually, once he started looking into Gotham, but he didn’t think, “What the frick is the vampire bat guy about?” was what she’d had in mind.

[writtenjewels]

Pi3 Day

Pie Day, Pie Day Again

Salim was pleasantly surprised when he got a call letting him know Jason was here in London. Truth be told, Salim didn't expect to see any of the Americans again. He thought of them often, though--Jason specifically. No, Jason only. Many of his waking thoughts were wondering what Jason was doing these days. The marine featured in a number of Salim's dreams, too.

And not all of them were nightmares.

So when he was informed that Lieutenant Jason Kolchek requested his presence at the London Airport, Salim didn't hesitate. He didn't see Jason at first, but then a figure waved at him and called his name. The clothing was unfamiliar, but Salim knew that voice.

"Jason!" he greeted happily. He felt bad for not recognizing his friend immediately, but in his defense, he'd never seen Jason out of combat gear and without that hat on. Jason's dark hair was a little longer than a military buzz-cut; Salim wondered if it always looked that way, or if Jason had grown it out. Either way, it looked good on him. The black shirt he wore was an interesting choice, bearing the graphic of a white snake.

"Holy shit," Jason grinned. "It's so good seein' you." He held out a hand. It was so reminiscent of their last moment that Salim shook it reflexively. Jason tugged, bringing him in for a shoulder-pat hug. Jason let go again before Salim could get his bearings.

"It's good seeing you, my friend," Salim returned. They started to walk out of the airport, falling into step side-by-side easily.

"Thank God Nicky remembered your last name," Jason huffed. "You never fuckin' told me, so I had to ask him just so I could find you in the fuckin' phone book. He thought it was a long shot you'd be here, but I knew you'd wanna stay near your boy."

Salim let him talk, partly because he missed the sound of Jason's voice, and partly because he didn't know what to say. Jason went through so much to find Salim; it never occurred to Salim to go looking for Jason. Then again, this wasn't the first time Jason went above and beyond to find Salim. Salim smiled remembering that moment down in the vault.

"I hear you thinkin'," Jason prodded him.

"Just remembering our fight in the vault."

"You mean when you near took my fuckin' head off with that 'sword' of yours?"

"That 'sword' saved your life, jarhead," Salim retorted. Jason's expression softened a little and he caught Salim's eye.

"Yeah, I know." Salim got the sense Jason wasn't referring to the weapon, and felt his cheeks get hot.

"The 'shield' saved mine," he added. Jason ducked his head at that, but Salim saw a hint of color on those pale cheeks. "Are you hungry?" Salim wondered. "I know plane food isn't very satisfying."

"I'm good," Jason waved him off.

"Nonsense, you traveled all this way. You should at least let me treat you to a meal."

"All right, I guess," Jason conceded with a smile.

There was a pub not too far away. Salim led them inside, where a waiter brought them to a table. Jason frowned at the menu.

"Meat and alcohol in the pie, huh? I could grow to like this country." Salim chuckled at that. "You eat this shit, Salim?"

"Not that shit exactly," Salim said, "but they do make good pies. I think I'll order one with you. Americans normally eat pie as a dessert, don't they?"

"Usually," Jason agreed. "Except chicken pot pie. You ever try it?" Salim shook his head. "I'll make it for ya sometime," Jason promised.

"Really?" Salim was not expecting Jason to even know how to cook, let alone offer to make something. After Jason teasing him about cable TV, he should have known better than to assume things about his friend.

"Sure." Jason's smile grew. "I'd like to learn to make the pies here, too. Mama always said that nothin' beats a home-cooked pie."

Salim must have misunderstood what Jason meant. Surely Jason wasn't suggesting he would go home with Salim. Even if it was just to cook pie, that idea had Salim's heart racing. Wishful thinking, Salim decided with a shake of his head.

"I think we should enjoy these pub-cooked pies first."

Just then the waiter arrived with their food. The two settled into other topics of conversation as they ate. Still, Salim couldn't help thinking about home-cooked pies. Last time he saw Jason, he walked away from the marine to go home.

This time, he might just ask Jason to go with him.

[queerdiazs]

fuck it friday <3

the 'fuck it' part of this friday is the fact that @eddiediaztho has bullied me into writing a sequel for clementines fic and apparently i can't tell her no so, like, fuck it

tagged by, and oh boy, @watchyourbuck, @jesuisici33, @alyxmastershipper, @eddiediaztho, @diazblunt, @try-set-me-on-fire, @disasterbuckdiaz, and @wikiangela <3

Buck grins, pieces of bright orange meat stuck between his teeth, and says, “Mi media naranja,” with a voice that’s so soft the quiet song from the radio almost eats it up.  “Hey, that was pretty—” Eddie starts, stops, and stares at Buck’s messy, crooked grin. His heart beats heavy in his chest, a thud-thud-thud so loud he’s sure Buck must be able to hear. “That means—” “My half orange, right?” Buck interrupts. That smile’s still on his face, aimed right at Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s so fragile, so delicate, and he doesn’t even feel the acid of the orange in the cuts on his fingers anymore. “I learned the phrase in Brazil.”  Eddie swallows around a lump in his throat he’s sure is his heart, shoved up in there at Buck’s use of the tender endearment, and smiles. He loves Buck and Buck loves him, this they both know, and they’re it for one another, this they both know, too, but Eddie didn’t think it would be this soon.  “Do you know why that’s said?” he asks, inching around the island between them. He can’t be far from Buck, wants to reach out and touch his boyfriend—rub his thumb over Buck’s birthmark, the color of ripe tangerine, and kiss the taste of orange out of his mouth. “Do you know what it means?”  “No.” Buck shakes his head. He looks up at Eddie, open and in awe, like Eddie’s the fucking sun or something—and he’s not, okay. He’s not. That’s Buck. Buck’s the sun and Eddie’s just one of many, millions and billions and trillions and gazillions, sunflowers turned toward him. “Tell me.”  “It’s ‘cause every orange is different, so if you split an orange down the middle it’ll only fit back with the other half.”  “So, like, stars?” Buck tilts his head, adorable and precious and Eddie’s in love, holy shit. It’s running over him, turning him cold and hot and tingly all at once, and he doesn’t want to get used to this, never ever. “How they say people are made from the same stars but, like, oranges instead.”  Eddie laughs, ugly and intense, and nods. “Yeah, baby,” he says, reaching out to press the fat part of his thumb against Buck’s birthmark. It’s his favorite color. “When it’s said like that—mi media naranja—it means something like a soulmate. Something like a husband.”  “Oh.” Buck’s blue eyes sparkle; the evening sun shining into the kitchen halos him in gold and orange and pale, faint pink. “That’s nice to know.”  “Yeah.” Eddie laughs, a little strangled, and rolls his eyes. “‘Oh.’”  Buck grins, teeth clear of orange meat, and grips Eddie’s hips with both hands to bring him closer. “Well, what do you say?” he asks, tipping his head back and looking up at Eddie, all kinds of in love and happy. “Wanna be my half-orange, Eddie?”  

something something buck practices his spanish with eddie because he wants to share that with eddie or whatever <3

i think everyone's done this already???? but if not, i'm gonna tag @shitouttabuck and @jeeyuns and @thewolvesof1998 and @honestlydarkprincess and literally whoever else!

[wrathofrats]

Another extremely accurate post of me guessing your personality based on your fav ghoul, but I’m nicer this time!

Mountain: you bitches terrify me. Like I’m a good way. Mostly very chill people, just kinda wanting to get their work done and go, but when it comes to that tall ass piece of meat?? Holy fuck y’all go crazy. Insane. Feral. Y’all rival the Swiss people which is so funny to be considering how mountain is headcanoned to be. Also I think you’re a good baker idk why.

Rain: ahhh!! Y’all are very sweet. Sassy but usually very sweet. Calm, don’t have much to say until you have a burning desire to see a fish in a dress. But all you wanna do is dress up your pretty little ghoul and vibe. Very artistic people. Some of y’all have a weird sadism streak tho and I’m concerned for you!!! You remind me of like a 5 year old whispering to their parents in the middle of the night that they’re going to skin mom. But affectionately

Aether: the absolute sweetest people. Genuinely very kind and cares for others I love y’all so much. Just wants to see everyone be happy and tell stupid jokes. Your fav color is like yellow or purple I’m almost positive. Your love language is touch and words of affirmation. Y’all don’t have much to say but you’re such a ray of sunshine kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss

Dew: babe ……��. Babe. I love you. This is the most self destructive answer. I think we need to stop consuming caffeine and let’s instead maybe see a therapist. You’re so fun, and funny. You’re a little shit (affectionately) people love you a lot more than you think. How about we learn to accept compliments? And maybe how to sit down? But you’re very entertaining!!!

Swiss: alright you stupid cunt. Funniest fucking people ever. Also horniest people ever. Y’all are great leaders, usually have bold personalities. Life of the party. But also let’s learn how to be nice to others. Bullying those we love is not a valid love language but you’re very very funny so, give and take I guess. Also youre hot you must be I don’t make the rules. 

Cumulus: sweetest people also. Mom friend. I know you probably have a giant purse that you keep candy and ibuprofen in. Let’s maybe learn to put the air mask on ourselves before others? Usually fairly shy but it’s ok I love you. You look amazing in a sundress, and you’re like the least judge mental person ever. I’m feeding you a strawberry rn let me know if you receive it

Cirrus: god YOURE HOT. You’re so fucking confident. You are here to tell people what to do and get shit done, and every listens to you. You’re the plan maker. Here’s the itinerary and if you don’t like it figure something else out. You give good solid and very honest advice

Sunny: ohhh my sweet summer child. You’re a lot! I love you for it! You want to do everything all the time and know everything about everything, so so very curious. You ate glue as a child, affectionately. But it’s ok! You’re adorable and very yellow coded. Probably eats dessert before dinner, you absolutely have a sweet tooth.

Phantom: hey another dumbass, affectionately. Put down the fucking green hair dye. PUT IT DOWN. Y’all are golden retriever people, usually just very happy to be here. Puts on a badass face but very nice and usually kinda chill. Cargo shorts and pants are not the only fashion choices if you were not already aware, but it’s ok you’ll grow out of it!

Aurora: you’re so cute!! Probably a bit mean, very much a princess. Prissy and wants what they want when they want it. But you know being kind is cool and usually wanna sit and listen to other people.

[eldritch-spouse]

hi! my b if this has been asked before, but can/do any of your ocs have tattoos? would they want them? ik breg probably wouldn’t bc of the needles/pain, but i’m curious abt the others like santi, morell, vesper, livius…? (also i jus wanna say that i LOVE your writing 😭 i stumbled across your account on ao3 and then i made a tumblr because i could not get enough! you’re seriously so talented and everything you write jus has me craving for more.)

Now that you mention it... Yeah, I don't think there's a single character of mine with tattoos, which is a bit strange to me, but curious.

You're entirely correct, Breg is too much of a wuss about needles to ever humor one. Although, if it was a simple tattoo of your name, he would probably agree. The breeder would just have to hold your hand very tightly, and you need to keep his eyes on you the entire time or he will flip and possibly hurt the poor artist trying to work on him. Remember, the space you tattoo becomes dysfunctional when it comes to Breg's skin flickering, so maybe do it with color?

Most of the demons are totally willing to get tattoos with you. Demons are used to marks in general, many have carved and branded things into their own bodies, displaying scars and tattoos alike as sources of immense pride. Some definitely find tattoos attractive in their mates. Concubi like Santi and Vesper are particularly into the idea of you suggesting a design of yours to tattoo onto them. It functions as your own "mark". Obie is also big into tats on others, he's very indecisive about his own body however.

Livius would only humor a tatoo if it's done to match you in some way. He wants it EXACTLY like yours, if it's off even by a little bit, there will be a tantrum. Going to be real here, you could probably suggest Vesper get a tramp stamp saying "King Cumdump" and he'd get it.

Morell generally detests tattoos. We've talked about it before on the blog. He thinks it ruins meat quality, and even if he doesn't plan to eat you, his irrational distaste is still there. He hates it. Putting tattoos on himself is even less appealing, since his body is all spotted. It would looks jarring and weird, and possibly ruin his faint glow.

Another one who doesn't really like tattoos is Krulu. If you must wear a design on your body, let it be his alone. Similarly, Miara would rather you do something suiting her tastes. Or, at the very least, in a variety of colors.

Shags FUCKING LOVES tattoos. It's part of how he makes a living! Selling his ink so it can be treated properly and used for body art, which he himself has dabbled in plenty of times. You want to get a new tattoo? Fuck yes, let him help you with the design, yes? Unfortunately, since he's constantly dripping ink and his body is almost always some degree of mutilated, Shags doesn't really want to tattoo himself.

[Oh my God, you made a Tumblr just for me?!? Ahfhsbfbsf that's so sweet, holy shit. <3 Thenk you lots, I'm very very glad you enjoy my content that much!!!]

[kann1bal1st1c-vvh0r3yummyyummy]

HELLO TMA FANDOM

TWS; Raw meat gifs, talking about the flesh and Jared Hopworth, at some point mentions of EDs and recovery from them, spicy and sappy headcanons for Jared simps.

Let’s talk flesh avatars, mostly, The bone turner; Jared!

Before we begin, Quick lil reminder that;

CANON JARED HOPWORTH IS A FINE ASS MOTHERFUCKER- What I mean is Alex stated that canon Jared is quite attractive/good looking?

Just-

ALEX WHY?

2. ALEX. WHY?!

And Lordy lord it pains me to see “ugly” Jared fanart. The fanart is alway pretty no matter what we do, like goddaym but yeah-

Like I can imagine a relationship with him?? And what it’d be like? And I what his relationships are like with other avatars?

For example, for you simps;

Jared in a romantic relationship;

Constant compliments on your physical appearance and asking if he can help with any insecurities? Like;

“You’re gorgeous/Handsome, darling. Your mussels hug your bone structure perfectly, it matches with your soft personality.”

Or

“What’s wrong honey? You want to clear up your acne and scars? Let’s see what we can do to help with that, yeah?”

But not like in a gross why which comes to my second point!

TW for mentioning EDs for this point; Will promote fitness and good health! In a non icky way, as an avatar of the flesh and a gym owner, he wants everyone to have their preferred body types if they have one! And he’s a Gardener and a butcher, so he knows what is good to eat for the body to stay healthy and be ticking properly!

Basically I can see him cooking you both lunch, and it matters what your diet or food goals are because he’ll eat the same as you to not make you feel lonely, and he’ll use everything from his own gardens and butchery?

He could also help you gain weight if that is your goal or help you recover from an ED and show you how to exercise in a healthy way or how to control binge eating better. He will also help you get a feel of some control back into your life!

HE WILL BE YOUR HYPE PERSON IF YOU HAVE NO BODY OR HEALTH GOALS!!

You plus size and happy with it? He’s happy for you and happy with you!

Thin and your happy with it? AGAIN! happy for you and with you!

If you have any body type and your comfortable in your own skin? he’s extremely happy for you and proud of you! And he won’t let anyone tear you down.

IF YOU ARE TRANS HE CAN HELP YOU TRANSITION FULLY WAYYYY FASTER

Like holy shit you’d transition 100x faster and he’s definitely either Trans himself or a big AF ally, idc what y’all say he’s pro-trans rights in every part of his being.

moving on to the sappy and spicy headcanons;

DINNER. DATES. with home cooked food from Jared or joint running days if you like going running! Or dates in his garden looking after the plants!

I see him extremely affectionate Like I said before he would give you a lot of compliments, he would be the best cuddler in the world, sadly, not a lot of kisses because I see him as a man with many teeth, some poking out from within his cheeks, or at the edge of his lips and this will cause him to be scared of hurting you if you were to kiss him

Like size difference? Being manhandled?Well so does he! He’s probably taller than you no matter what you do, thankfully he shift his body to be… smaller in places so he won’t break you literally and metaphorically-

Will use cannibalism as a motif for love sayin stuff like “I could just eat you” “I don’t wanna just be with you I wanna be a part of you” n stuff like that

And that is all for today :)) thank you for coming to my lil reminder TMA fandom…

//Tags:

[entomolog-t]

The Shadow We Cast - 3

The boys are back with two more Prompts down! Delight and Linger ! I love writing these boys so much- just the goofiest vibes.

How long before I make it angsty?

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Word count: 2332

CW: Adult language, substances (beer/drinking)

Man, the food was great. Never in my life had I tasted anything like the weird paste Mark had made- and to put it on meat?? Some crazy part of my was compelled to howl with joy. While the glass bucket Mark had given me to use as a cup proved progressively harder to grip with more and more of the sauce covering my hands, I was plenty fine with the extra effort just for another sip of the cool golden drink- Beer went incredible with hawk wings. 

Leaning back, I groaned as I stretched out, stomach aching.

I’d more than eaten my fill, but it's not like it was everyday that I had such a mouthwatering feast to myself. My eyes flickered to Mark. Both in my own eager hunger and out of a slight unease, I’d been avoiding watching him eat. There was something both ridiculously impressive and deeply unsettling about watching another being consume many times more than my weight in food. Inarguably cool- but the spectacle left me feeling… less. 

My eyes met his own. Though, as soon as my gaze met his, he looked away- quickly focusing on taking another drink. I felt a grin tug at the corners of my mouth. Looks like I caught him staring. I wait until he puts the can to his lips before I speak, 

“See something you like, big man?” 

Mark chokes on his drink- a strangled sound escaping him as his hand shoots up to cover his mouth as he sputters. I can’t help but laugh at the sight of him desperately trying to hold in his drink - his sputtering turning to coughing. The mix of the panicked look on his face and the pitiful sounds are just too much, and I find myself wincing at a sharp pain biting at my sides from the laughter. 

Catching his breath, Mark chuckles. He waves a dismissive hand,

“Man, I’m just shocked at how much you ate.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Dude, you’re what? Ten times my size?” I gesture to the pile of bones on his plate, “How do you think I feel?”

Mark rolls his eyes, 

“Relatively.” He points to the section of meat I’d claimed for myself, “Like, holy shit dude. It looks like you ate one of your legs worth of meat.” 

I shrug. 

“You could have eaten more if you hadn’t filled up by drinking so much.”

He chuckles- but his laugh is cut short as he jerks. The flinch is all the warning I get before a massive hand is sent rocketing toward his opposite arm. A thunderous clap breaks through the evening air. I feel the blood drain from my face, and I can’t tell if it's the sound echoing in my ears or if it's my heart thrumming in my chest. I hadn’t even flinched- a thought that I wanted to be able to revel in- to tell myself it was because I wasn’t so easily cowed… but there was no lying to myself. 

I didn’t even have time to flinch. 

The thought sent a chill through me. 

Mark, unaware of my racing heart, sighed.

“Ugh, the mosquitoes are coming out.” He shot me a nervous smile, “You, uh, wanna head inside and have a few more drinks?” Pausing, he adds “And maybe put a shirt on?”

I chuckle, though it feels more forced than moments ago,

“And why would I do that?” As I say the words, sing songy and teasing, I feel the tension inside me ease. I stand, my body feeling sluggish- heavy with the weight of a good meal. Stretching, I meander over to his waiting hand, making sure he knows I’m turning down the suggestion to get dressed rather than the invitation for more beers. 

Mark rolls his eyes, 

“I mean, you’re wearing enough of the sauce that it might as well count as a shirt.”

I narrow my eyes at him for a moment before looking down. 

Eesh. He… Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

Stomach to chest, I was covered in splatterings and smears of the dark red sauce. My pants were decorated with various stains, some smaller, like where I’d wiped off my hands, and one particularly large spot of sauce where I’d rested the massive hunk of meat against my legs. 

Using my forearm, I haphazardly wiped across my chest, clearing off a decent volume of sauce. 

“DUDE!” I jump at his exclamation, frozen in place with my tongue still dragging along the sauce smeared skin of my arm. I furrow my brow. What was his problem now? 

“Wash off properly before you get in my hand” He scolds. I mimic his exasperated expression and roll my eyes. He tears off another piece of napkin and hands it to me in response. Taking it, I double back towards my drink-bucket. 

“What are you- SAL!” I tip the bucket over my head and feel a wash of cool liquid pour over me- a momentary respite from the overbearing heat of the day. The chill combined with the strange bubbles in the drink are a bit jarring, but in a way that’s invigorating- refreshing even. 

Above me, I can hear Mark sputtering- a mix of “Dudes” and “whys” and other half finished questions. I throw up my hands, confused and frustrated. This guy’s impossible! I cleaned off?? What did he want from me?? 

“Dude! Come on…” The exclamation is chastising in its tone. “Why would you-” Before he can continue I interject, 

“But you said-” An exasperated sigh interrupts my very valid point. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he speaks.

“You know what? It's fine.” His tone suggests it's anything but, yet the smile he gives me feels genuine- as if he’s the one being patient and I’m the one being unreasonable. In a slow and careful movement, Mark once again offers me his hand. 

There's a slight, but not unnoticed, chill that grips me- a little shot of adrenaline at the sight of his incoming hand. A faint tremor in my legs, and a pounding in my heart accompanying a stray thought at the back of my mind that wants me to hesitate- to back out. The thought reminds me almost of getting into cold water; that anticipation of shock making you move slower, as if your brain is trying to persuade you away from that unwanted discomfort.

I set my jaw.

Well, fuck that. 

If I didn’t feel comfortable, I would make myself comfortable. My thoughts are mine to control- not there to control me. 

As if his hand were a body of water, I dove in. His hands were soft as I landed, much more so than my own. It wasn’t the first time it had crossed my mind how comfortable it felt- how warm. 

I flopped to my back and patted the meat of his thumb, coaxing him to move. I don’t miss the way his fingers curl in, or how his other hand comes up to support the first. I can’t help but roll my eyes. Those subtle gestures leave me a bit conflicted- stuck in a middle ground between finding it endearing and finding it patronising. The care to use a delicate hand with me was… nice, yet the thought that I needed to be handled with a delicate hand was bordering on insulting. 

The warmth of his hand and the rhythmic rise and fall with his steps seemed to lull me away from my irritation. Closing my eyes, I let myself relax to the steady sway of his steps. I liked Mark. He was nice. He had good food. He was fun to rile up. I felt my cheeks burning from a goofy smile that wouldn’t seem to falter. This was real. After all these years, I had someone to talk to! Someone to spend time with! There was a giddiness in my chest that just seemed to build- a dizzying surge of wild energy that felt like the room was spinning-

Wait. Was the room spinning??

I felt my stomach lurch, a weird feeling of vertigo prompting me to open my eyes trying to ground myself. The spinning sensation eased to a stop as I sat up. Seemingly right on cue, Mark lowered his hand to the table. 

As soon as I dismount from his hand, Mark’s massive frame turns away from me, rushing toward the sink. I frown as he washes his hands. I’d washed off for him, and yet he was acting as if he’d just handled something foul. As he returns to the table he seems to catch my glare. 

He raises his hands as if surrendering, 

“Dude, you’re sticky.” 

I snort.

“I am not.” 

I patted my skin. Sure, it was a little tacky to the touch, but that was hardly anything to wash up over. I’d just doused myself off in front of him- what more did he want?

While I had no clue what he wanted from me, I knew what I wanted- and that was another drink. 

Eyeing my glass bucket, I meandered over to wear he’d set his drink down. Each step was off- just a little, almost as if it was… Delayed? I took a long blink, trying to orient myself. Was I swaying?

I stumbled, catching myself on Mark’s arm. He flinched under my touch and my scowl returned. 

“Ew, dude, don’t touch me. You’re all sticky.” 

With a glare, I let my body collapse against his arm limply laying over it. He stiffens under my touch, and I feel the strangest sensation of goosebumps forming on his skin beneath me. I keep my head buried against his arm as my scowl is pulled up into a grin. This guy was really something else. Spiders, first aid, and slightly tacky skin?? I bet his own shadow could get a rise out of him. 

I chuckled at my own thought, laughing into his arm as he squirmed beneath me. Mark titled his arm in an attempt to push me back onto my feet, but rather than let him guide me back into a stand, I pulled myself up - stradling the width of his forearm. 

“Oh- Dude, come on. Get off.” He whines, twisting his arm, carefully trying to force me to dismount. His kindness is his own downfall, as the slow and gentle movements are easy to correct against- leaning my weight this way and that to compensate. Above me, he groans. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as his free hand reaches up, prompting me to spring up into a stand- feeling oddly dizzy at the sudden movement. 

He hesitates- hand hovering at my side - either waiting to catch me or unwilling to touch me. Before he can reconsider I spring into action. In one bound I’m at the crook of his elbow. Without pausing I leap, clearing the small gap between his arm and torso as I throw myself at the fabric of his shirt. 

Mark does nothing more than flinch- making a strangled noise as he jerks bolt upright in his seat, hands stiffly to each side of me yet making no move to touch me. I can’t stop laughing, My cheeks burn, my sides ache, yet my arms feel light as I pull myself up the length of his shirt. Mark leans back, craning his neck and tilting his chin away in the most futile attempt to distance himself from me. Stitches form in my sides as I nearly wheeze at the sight. 

Gripping the collar of his shirt I heave myself onto his shoulder, letting out a sigh as I try to quell my laughter. 

“Is something wrong, Big Guy?”  I tease,stifling a giggle while leaning my apparently sticky self onto his neck. The sensation of his warm skin shuddering under my touch is bizarre, “Afraid I’ll-” I pause. His skin is more than just warm, it's hot. I crane my neck, awkwardly trying to look at his face from the odd vantage point. 

His face is red- his mouth a thin line and his eyes are anywhere but on me. 

Oh.

This was too much, wasn’t it? 

I was too much.

I clear my throat, wracking my brain for anything to fill the now very noticeably awkward silence.

“You, um, mind refilling my drink?” 

A little puff of air escapes him, and I watch as a smile pulls at the edge of his lips. Slowly, he turns his head towards me, and all at once I’m reminded of just how massive he is. On his shoulder I’m eye level with him- Mark meeting my gaze out of the corner of his eye… and eye roughly the size of my head. I stagger back a half step, careful to mind my footing. Something about seeing an eye so closely was off-putting, the depth of the brown looking too deep- like something I could fall into; the colour like good healthy dirt.  

He raises an eyebrow.

“Mind getting off?” 

With an exaggerated hop, I let myself drop down the steep slope of his arm, half sliding half falling to his forearm. Mark lets out a yelp at the motion- as if a fall from that height was anything to worry about. 

I step down from his arm, my gait still feeling not quite right- each step somewhat unsteady, as if the table swayed beneath my feet. It wasn’t only my gait- my skin felt strange. Almost numb but not really? It was… buzzing?  Yet despite all the strangeness, there was a warmth in my chest that seemed to spread over into my mind. A light fuzziness that softens the edge of my thoughts. There was an ease- a comfort- that seemed to coat my mind, like a paradoxically warm blanket of snow. 

Maybe a little too warm? 

I knit my brow. 

I could fix that. 

I looked up, craning my neck to meet Marks gaze, 

“So, how about another drink?”

[saturnaous]

hey. permission to be strange? cool thanks how do u think falin tastes. cause we've seen the fucken bird dragon shit but like. if u cooked her like that and then ate her what do you think she'd taste like.

what a question. especially since I finished watching the show with my pal like an hour ago. god. I mean she'd probably be meaty? Hmmm. I thinnkk. Well we'll probably go off a basis of. The red dragon. maybe a bit of the flavor for like a human. but like def super tough. I think it'd be neat if she's kinda bitter due to being a carnivore and stuff. hmmmm. maybe there's a slight hint of human? gahh. . . I think the feathers would maybe leave her slightly less bitter but like. not by much bethinks. hmmm. do you have any opinions.

oh wait I have more to say hold on. I wanna take out what the dragon would probably taste like maybe. okay so wait hold on wheres the article or whatever where they try to figure out what a trex tastes like hold on OKAY I'M ON MY 'PUTER. Claps hands together. okay so. Holy shit there's actually a LOT more uhhhh speculation on this than I thought actually! Hold on. Okay so first off. We have things from the show that obviously try to explain the flavor, but sadly we are in a nonmagical world that does not have these comparisons. They ALSO do not have quite a way to describe it. But they do go in with it being very tough. But! What we do have in real life that I didn't realize so many people wondered. What a Trex tastes like. I don't think it would be a far assumption that T.Rex's and Dragons taste somewhat similar. They have similar anatomy and just and probably don't have very different diets. "Countless factors determine the flavor of meat, including the composition of an animal’s muscles, its eating habits, and its hormones. Based on the evolutionary tree, we might speculate that T. rex tasted more like poultry than, say, beef or pork. Its flavor would likely have been closer to that of a carnivorous bird—perhaps a hawk—than a chicken. What does a hawk taste like? It’s probably not far off from the dark meat of a turkey but would be more pungent because of its all-meat diet." "based on comparisons with modern-day predators, we can make an educated guess. The flesh of carnivorous dinosaurs might have had a gamey taste, similar to that of modern-day large predators like alligators or crocodiles." "The age of the T. rex might have influenced its taste. Younger individuals likely had more tender and milder meat compared to older ones whose meat might have been tougher and more robust in flavor."

so basically we're getting somewhere between funky bird and crocs. I also think it wouldn't be bad to throw lizard in there? Since reptiles are described as somewhere between fish and chicken I'm getting a lot of predatory bird methinks. and she probably would be slightly more tender since she's younger methinks? ohhh wait. we gotta take in the human factor into this brb. Okay so cannibals mostly describe as sweet. It also would probably depend on who you're asking though, methinks as some seem to describe it as similar to veal and look like beef. a lot of them are saying they taste like pork though. So what I'm gonna say. T.Rex - Hawklike and probably slightly fishy Human - Sweet Pork-ish

These put together would probably make something really fucking weird to say the least. But I don't think maybe. Like a sweet Croc or Gator would be far off? It might be somewhere between Funky chicken with a hint of fish and pork. Somehow.

scott. . . scott your brain. . . you are so smart I'm clutching your face.

[robertseanleonardthinker]

u guys wanna know something embarrassing. i've been vegetarian for like 4 or 5 years, right? i don't miss most meat. i've found solid substitutes for just about everything i do miss. except for two things: pepperoni and... hot dogs. holy fucking shit i miss hot dogs. all vegan hot dogs suck. they're mushy and taste like weird bread. i want a good hot dog with that crunchy casing. i miss them so fucking bad. i have no plans to eat meat again, but if i did, first thing i would eat would be an all beef hot dog. one that pops in your mouth. slathered in ketchup and onions. FUCK i miss them

[mrshamada-dorian]

leona (accidentally) tries an edible

i literally thought of this like 15 minutes ago as i was grabbing some thanksgiving leftovers. this is just purely crack. adeuce ver. idia ver. azul ver.

cw; drugs, putting nonconsensual drugging just in case (leona wasn't given the edible and there was no one there to stop him)

this whole thing was purely an accident.

it happened late at night. leona was just hanging at ramshackle after he somehow convinced you to do a snack run for the both you. you really didn't want to, but the urge to spoil your baby after a long day of doing absolutely nothing was unfortunately stronger than you'd like to admit.

it was taking you longer than expected and leona was hungry. so instead of sitting pretty and patient, what does he decide to do?

raid your kitchen.

he goes straight to you kitchen and straight to your stash (he always knows exactly where it is no matter how many times you move it). there's barely anything in there, which means you probably don't have the money to keep to stocked. he'll slip some money in your empty pockets later.

the only thing that was left a little baggie with brownie in it.

leona was not biggest fan of sweets. his unhealthy ass only ate meat. but at the moment, he was oh so famished and that little brownie was looking to delectable not to eat...

so he ate the whole thing. THE WHOLE FUCKING THING.

now every resident weed intaker know that you don't eat the whole thing unless you wanna get fucked up.

but not only did leona not know that what he ate was an edible, he also didn't know that he wasn't supposed to eat the whole thing.

and just as he finished his mistake, you came back just in time to witness the aftermath.

you literally almost drop the snacks in your hands.

"leona, did you eat my brownie?!" "yea. you were talking too long."

mans was not ashamed for taking your stuff.

yet, you didn't seem too worried about the fact that he ate your brownie and more worried about the amount he ate.

it kinda threw him off. normally, people would be upset that their food was taken in general.

but you look like you were about to shit your pants when he told you that he ate all of it.

yet you didn't tell him why. you just told him it sit down and relax.

of course he did what he was told since that's what he was going to do anyway. but you were really starting to freak him out... a little.

you were way more antsy than usual and whenever he would ask what was wrong, you would lie (he could tell) and say nothing.

about 30 minutes later, he was starting to get tired of your antics when...

HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THIS FEELING!!!

he felt like his brain was flying up into the air yet simultaneously staying inside his head and his senses were way too sensitive for his liking. when he tried to relax he got way too far away and had to forcibly bring himself back. not mention he was really hungry again.

leona turned to you with the widest eyes you've ever seen in him.

"what the fuck did you put in those brownies?"

he grimaced when he saw you trying to hide your smile.

"they're weed brownies. you'll be fine, but next time ask before you go through my things."

for once he would wholeheartedly agree with no problem. this shit was not for him. but where did you get weed anyway?

it wasn't like you were going to tell him so leona didn't ask. he just wanted this to be over with.

"so how long is this supposed to last anyway?" "oh just a couple hours." "WHAT?!"

[nyxnightshade1332]

Expectations When Expecting (Book 1)

Chapter 13

Chapter 14:

"Okay, now we just sprinkle on a little powdered sugar, and..." Yuu watched in fascination as Trey expertly sifted powdered sugar onto the tart.

The entire room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, when Trey stood back.

"Finished!" Ace and Grim remarked excitedly. Yuu smiled, pleased with the image.

"Fin...ished..." Deuce said halfheartedly.

"Hey." Ace nudged Yuu slightly, leaning in to whisper. "Did something happen to him while you were shopping?"

"Yeah. He's still in shock." She laughed awkwardly. "I think I broke him."

"For sixteen years, I was so sure..." Deuce lamented, returning to muttering.

Ace watched with a raised eyebrow. "... Yeah, whatever." He said dismissively. "I'm pretty beat. Making tarts sure takes it outta you."

Yuu raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Is the big tough fella tired?" She teased. "Guess you should be lucky we agreed to help~" She grinned, noticing Ace's embarrassed blush.

"Yeah, fine. Thanks for the help." He huffed, looking away.

Yuu chuckled kindly. "You're welcome!" She said, returning her gaze to the table she was wiping down.

"Hey fam!" A voice resounded in the kitchen, making Yuu jump slightly as she looked up to see a familiar ginger.

"Holy shit, this ain't moving!" She grumbled to herself. "Oh yeah! 'Sup Cater!" She called back, attempting to scrub off a bit of solidified paste from the wood.

"LOL, You look wrecked." Cater remarked. "Are the tarts done? Ooh, those look sooo cute! Lemme snap a quick pic for Magicam!" Cater smiled, scampering over to where Trey was, holding a very pretty-looking tart.

"What, NOW you decide to show up?" Ace retorted, annoyed and cranky.

"I just came to see how hard my little newbs were working." Cater said, leaning against the desk nonchalantly.

"It's tough work if you're not used to it. But there's no better cure for the ails of fatigue than something sweet from the oven!" Trey announced, placing a warm tart in front of the group. "Help yourself to some of this tart."

The group celebrated at the thought of getting to try their work.

"Pretty funny how you managed to show right when it was ready to eat, Cater." Ace remarked, scowling slightly when Cater laughed.

"Someone's gotta be the official taster!" The older ginger smiled.

"That smells so good..." Grim purred, sniffing the air as his mouth began to water. "Glossy chestnuts on top, fluffy cream below... I can't wait another second, I'm going in!"

Grim seemed to jump into his tart, completely disregarding the fork and simply taking a large bite. Yuu felt her stomach growl at how hungry she was, making her pick the fork up and take a small piece.

"Yuuum! Liked and subscriiibed!" She heard Cater beside her as she put the fork in her mouth.

"This is like something from a fancy bakery." Deuce praised.

"Rich in flavor, yet not too sweet... It's like chestnuts are dancing across my tongue!" Grim laughed.

"Is that... a good thing?" Trey questioned, seeming to look at Yuu, who had remained silent as she took her first bite.

Yuu had been hit with a sweet flavor, but it didn't have a heavy texture that would overwhelm her. She smiled. "Wow. It's good!"

Trey chuckled at her childish delight. "I'm glad you like it!"

"Oh, Trey! You gotta do the thing." Cater smiled.

"The thing? Oh..." Trey asked before his features lit up at the realization. "That."

"Uh, wanna fill me in here?" Ace suggested, completely lost.

Yuu watched as Trey pulled out his magic pen, confused. "What's that for?" She asked him. The taller boy simply smiled at her.

"You'll see. Now, what's everyone's favorite food?" He gestured toward the first year ginger.

"Me?" Ace questioned, pointing at himself. Trey nodded. "Probably cherry pie. Or hamburgers." Ace said.

"Canned tuna's at the top of my list. Then maybe cheese omelets, roast meat, pudding..." Grim began to list, wracking his brain in a pathetic attempt to decide.

"Dude, just pick one." Deuce muttered before answering. "If I had to pick, I guess I'd say... omelet rice?"

"I like a nice lamb chop with diablo sauce." Cater announced with a smile, turning to Yuu excitedly.

"I'd say..." Yuu thought for a while, eyebrows furrowed while she narrowed down her list. She felt the slight pull of her craving something that she'd been longing for for years. "Maybe my grandmother's tamales. Specifically the ones she called chope." She said, recalling her family's rare visits to Mexico in her youth, and the mouthwatering scent that wafted out of the pot as the tamales cooked. She felt her stomach growl at the thought, making her blush.

Yuu looked over to Trey, who had an amused smirk on his face. He lifted his pen. "All right, you've got it... Let's 'Paint the Roses'!" He called.

Yuu watched the room bathe in rose red light for a brief moment before disappearing. She watched, eyes wide and curious.

"Huh? What does that mean?" Deuce questioned.

"Take another bite of your tart and see." Trey remarked with a cheeky smile, pushing his glasses up.

Ace tentatively took one more bite before his eyes widened. "Huh? How- Now it tastes like cherry pie!" He looked at the tart, as if conforming that he was still eating a chestnut tart.

Grim picked his slice up, taking another bite. "It's just like canned tuna!" He yelped, taking another bite. " Now it tastes like a cheese omelet! And grilled meat!" He swallowed, excited with each bite. "And pudding!"

Yuu took her fork, lifting it up to her nose, smelling it. Its scent seemed to not have changed. He put the forkfull into her mouth.

She froze, recognizing the familiar saltiness of the masa, and the spice of the pork. Her eyes filled with tears, threatening to cascade down her face. She wiped them away.

"Wow." She said, untrusting of her ability to speak without crying. She took another bite, melting at the flavor.

"Neat trick, eh?" Cater shot her a smile. "That's gotta be a hit when Trey's having tea with the ladies."

"It's very impressive." Deuce smiled, eyes bright. "Is changing flavors your signature spell, Trey?"

"Technically, it's 'overwriting characteristics.' I can change taste, color, smell, whatever." Trey informed, eating a bit from his own tart. "It only lasts for a little while, though. But it is kinda like covering up the real thing hence, 'painting.'" He explained, handing Yuu a napkin which she accepted gratefully, wiping away any stray tears.

"If I had magic like that, I could be eatin' canned tuna every meal of every day! That's way better than Riddle's stupid collar magic!" Grim remarked with a gulp.

"Oh, that's in a whole other league. His signature spell is a weapon. Mine's just childish prestidigitation." Trey said, hiding his face a bit. "Speaking of Riddle - it's too late to give him these now. Let's call it a day and do it tomorrow." He suggested, quickly changing the topic with ease. "Don't forget that tomorrow's the unbirthday party. You don't want to be late."

"Yuu, can I crash with you again? It doesn't sound like I'll be allowed back in my own dorm tonight." Ace asked the young woman, who simply nodded, pushing back the empty feeling in her heart.

"Yeah. But you still have to clean if you want to stay in a room." She informed, placing her fork down on the now empty plate, before Grabbing Grim's. She smiled as Ace gave a loud groan.

"Again, seriously?" Cater asked incredulously.

"It isn't right to keep mooching off of Yuu, Ace." Deuce said, a strange look on his face.

"Yeah, it ain't! If you wanna stay tonight, you gotta pay for the privilege! Ten cans of tuna!" Grim demanded, standing upright to glare at Ace.

"Aww, What?! Guess I'm sleeping outside, then." Ace sulked, throwing his best puppy-dog eyes at Yuu. She rolled her eyes.

"Nice try, Trappola. But I have the high ground." She teased.

"Why don't you go and stay at Yuu's dorm too, Deuce, so you can keep an eye on him?" Trey suggested, making Deuce seem to perk up. "As vice housewarden, I can issue you a sleepover pass."

"That's our Trey, always spoiling the newbs. What fun for you." Cater chuckled before looking at her. "Ooh, maybe I'll come too! What do you say, Yuu?" He wrapped his arm over her.

"No pass for you." Trey said, shooting down Cater's idea.

Cater sighed, sulking. "Aww. Sad trumpet... Womp womp wooomp."

Trey shook his head, turning to Yuu apologetically. "Sorry to dump them all on you, Yuu. At least it's just for tonight."

She sighed, looking at the boys. "Nah, it's fine. I could use a bit of help cleaning my rustic, 'dump of a dorm' anyway."

Trey's eyes widened and he blushed in embarrassment, realizing that she'd just quoted him. "Ah- I..." Trey began, making Yuu laugh.

"Relax, I'm just teasing." She assured, turning to leave with Grim hopping into her arms. " I'll see you guys tomorrow, if I can successfully wake Ace, Deuce, and Grim."

.

.

.

Once Yuu opened the door to Ramshackle, she watched Ace throw his bag to the couch. "Tomorrow's the unbirthday party. Finally, I'm gonna get rid of this stupid collar! Just you wait, Riddle!" Ace announced, stretching as he jumped onto the couch, sending a literal cloud of deep seeded dust out into the air.

After a couple of minutes of hacking their lungs out and having no choice but to open all of the windows, Yuu turned to Ace with a glare.

"Really?! Was your goal to kill us all by suffocation?!" She cried.

"Forgot how dusty it was..." Ace said awkwardly, shaking the dust off of a new blanket. With about a half-hour of Yuu's scolding, she managed to get Ace to clean a room while Deuce had agreed to clean his own.

Once the cleaning was done, the group sat around a table, reading cards. Yuu read over her cards awkwardly, barely understanding the game, which had been old maid.

"Hahaha! How're you THIS bad at playing old maid?" Ace snickered as Yuu helplessly looked over her cards.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I've never played!" She huffed, before setting down her cards, noticing Grim's ears flatten and droop when he looked at his cards.

"Darn! I got the old maid again!" He cried, throwing his cards down.

Yuu groaned, as she picked up the cups, walking to the kitchen and placing the cups in the sink. Those are future Yuu's problem. She thought to herself, making her way to the lounge again.

"Bed time, boys!" She announced, making them groan.

"Aww, c'mon! One more game?" Ace suggested, anxiously tugging at his collar. Yuu rolled her eyes, empathy pooling into her heart, swaying her judgment. She sighed.

"...Fine. But we're playing one of my games this time." 

Chapter 15

[sanitytomychaos]

So as I’m taking a brake from playing BG3… a thought came to mind

What was are Dark Urge like before the betrayal of there sister? What made them the apple of their fathers eye and why did Gortash like you more than they tolerate Orin?

So me being me I looked up Bhaal and read a little about him.

About dear old Pa….

He’s a neutral evil god. (In 5e)

He’s Lawful evil in BG3

He’s the god murder in BG3

He was a god murder and the hunt (amung other things in D&D)

He’s was that guy in D&D that wanted to murder everything so THE MURDER HOBO

He was petty Because he lost to Bane and a Merkel, and therefore he had to be the god of murder.

From what ever art I’ve seen of him, we did not get are looks from him at all.

He also impregnated many woman as well to carry his seed. So that’s why You and Orin are half siblings (sisters in my case) and then I learned they were wiped out… well clearly the missed some here. So it’s either we are really flipping old.

(Wait does this mean we are demigods???????)

Anyway you were described as the perfect one… why ? Was it because you were not as unhinged as your sister? The one who took pleasure in murdering her victims in a chaotic insanity?

And are you the one that just enjoys the hunt that leads to your murder? And you’re not as unhinged as your sister hens why is easier to talk to you and have a conversation, and not blurt out you want to murder the person who you’re talking to.

You to your father.

Du (calling her Posie, cuz putting Durge is weird…) she was his fine crafted tool, she was perfect one, she didn’t complain and did her work. She was the “point and kill with out questions asked”

She was devoted and not crazy. No crazy makes you miss all the fine detailed of your kill. Makes you miss and appreciate the murder. How it was done, why it was done.

And you know why it was done, and it brakes you. That’s why you are the favorite he wants you to suffer as you do the deed so you know, each soul you take will haunt you and curse and scream your name.

But he forsakes you once your mind is corrupted by the Tav pole, his voice isn’t there any more to keep constantly whispering. The butler is his way of trying to get Posie back. This is the only way he can help to get his daughter back. To give you gifts and rebuild you.

And since you were “perfect” before. The fall you didn’t need the butler…

But never answer your questions.

That’s what I think…

BEFORE EVERYTHING

Relationship with Orin..

I wanna think Posie (okay pocket we get it she’s the Du) and Orin were sisters ( well duh pocket) .

Posie tried to be good sister to Orin, cuz she wanted a family or have some sort of family, but Orin made it very had to do so. They were two deferent sides of the same coin.

But there were small moments? Like Orin would listen to Posie as she reads something out loud. And then listen to Posies questions on the “holy” scriptures to Bhaal as alot of it was hogwash.

“He wants blood in his name, nothing more or less. Just that”

Orin complains that Posie is not. Doing things right and she does the same to Orin.

Share a meal together…

( they are both cannables, only fact I will stay with in the game cannon the other stuff is…. I’m sorry I draw the line of necrophilia and incest tendencies, This game has no chill at all man).

It would be a “hey I turned this Drow into a roast what do you think? Too much garlic or its not enough sage?”

Yes full on Hannibal’s here with the cooking…of humanoid meats. There’s even a part in the game were you can eat said meats in the goblin camp and it heals you by a lot…

I can see Posie just be “Orin that hand was in piss, do not- “

“Orin do not put that in your mouth!”

Orin proceeds to eat the hand anyway because she gives no shits and she is chaos energy.

Posie doesn’t talk to Orin for the rest of the day or week Because that’s just vile even for a cannable like her….The rude ones get eaten only, or she stops because people are junk food and she was gaining some weight.

Orin makes fun of Posies name all the time “Sister dear you should change your name”

Posie refuses to do so as it’s the only thing that keeps her human. And reminds her “there are flowers that can grow from blood”

We have Orin “The Red” because blood and gore..

Posie Would have been “The flower of Bones” as when a body decays. Nature takes it for its own. And bones are forever?

Foreshadowing that Posie will be around even after death….(someone’s death! )

Durge had nothing, your Bhaalness awakens when you were a child and you murdered your foster parents.

(Great really make your Durge a tragic character why don’t you Larian. I love it!)

Orin had parents and Posie will forever resent Orin for that.

Orin was the one that betrayed you. I think when Posie gets to that part in the game. And just thinking about it now. With being more human than she ever was before and finaly fighting her father and wanting to be free of all the nightmares and the voices.

She would be heartbroken. Her sister took everything from her and Orin dosnt care, she was watching and waiting for her sister slip up, and she did slip up. She fell for the chosen of Bain.

Why? It could be a lot of things, bust mostly jealousy, why did someone like Posie get all the love and she got nothing? And even when Orin took Posies place she will always still be compared.

Orin and Durge will always be that Back staving jealous, sibling troop. You still get rid of the sibling you hated and wanted to be… but you’re forever compared to them and your forever and their shadow no matter how much you shine in your own, right. That’s Orin in my eyes…

About the DarkUrge…. Posie.

(It’s funny you get murdered or beaten up by an orc with a flower name)

Im doing a Monk play though with this character so really plays well with being the “perfect weapon”. Posie body is the weapon. Everything around her. Is a weapon so when she’s out doing something for Gortash she throws her victims in a false sense of security

“You fool you have nothing to kill me with!” They have a sword.

She then disarms arms then and used that sword agents then “You were saying?”

I’m also multi-classing as a Druid in there too (I love moon Druids) Because… sneaking in as a cat or bird undetected is just funny.

“Oh look a pretty kitty!”

Turns into a half Orc (need more orc love) then proceeds to murder. Then walks away with bloody paws or flys away as a raven…goes and cleans the filth off your paws or preens your feathers for the next 3 hours.

When she’s mad she will throw things. Books, spoons, chairs…people. Has Yeeted a victim in the Gray bay Because that woman was just- let the fish eat her.

Each murder is different and never the same twice back to back.

She doesn’t do senseless murders. That’s not her style. She wants them to mean something. Hens why this. Would make her the favorite.

Posie had more sanity in them than Orin did. You were able to carry out conversation and look like a completely normal person and not go batshit crazy when you were stalking your target.

(Looking at you Orin)

You were a hunter… a well sharpened You didn’t play with your kills- naaah, you like toying with them.

Or you just liked to strike when your pray was at a peaceful state of mind were they think they are safe but not. That’s when you liked to strike.

That’s what Bhaal loved the best…

I’ll have more, maybe just needed to get this out there