#i didn’t eat enough carrots as a child

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I’ve never done a request, and obviously you can say no. But I’d love to hear what you think the sleep tokens would be like with a gf/wife/whatever who had a baby and are not comfortable with the way their body has changed??

I’m 9 months post partum and I’m having a hard time with this, so, idk, you’re so good at writing.

Thank you ♥️♥️

Be kind to yourself mama, you grew a whole new life. ✨🤍

Vessel

Let’s face it, you were a muse to him before your pregnancy but the thought of you growing his baby alerted his brain chemistry. He wanted to be a part of everything. The smallest of things like your back or side itching was interesting to him. So he weathered the storm in your head for you. Jumping at any given moment to remind you just how beautiful you were.

That didn’t change after you delivered the baby. Hair tangled and unwashed for days? Still pretty to him. He would just offer to take your bundle of joy and let you have your time. Or if you need help he’s settling the little one and he’s right there in the shower with you. Sitting you down on a little stool and washing your hair for you. Shirt covered in spit-up and breast milk stains? He couldn’t care less you are still stunning to him.

So he sees it. The glazeqd look in your eyes as you feed your baby. Head thrown over the back of the sofa. Vess settles beside you. Handing you an iced water bottle. Waving a little waffle bar in front of you. One that you just look at before shaking your head. That’s enough to make him frown.

“Do you want a different snack?”, he glances over to the kitchen, “Frozen yogurt bites? Nutella on toast? Crisps?”. You shake your head at it all. “Okay… do you want me to cook you something. We have that brownie mix or I can make you pancakes?”, and you know he would because there wasn’t a craving that went unsatisfied during your pregnancy.

“An apple of carrots might just do”, you shrug. Vessel tilts his head to the side, “You crave sugar when you breastfeed. Apples are tart, well the ones we have are. I could run to the…”, you reach out pressing your hand onto his thigh. “There’s no need, we’ll just eat dinner later on”, you try to smile at him but you can practically see the gears turning in his head. He doesn’t push but his eyes are demanding answers.

“It’s time I seriously start thinking about losing the baby chub I still have”, the words feel sour on your tongue, and from the way Vessel frowns you can tell that it tastes just as sour to him. “Your body grew our child”, he shakes his head. “Yeah, but I want to fit into my jeans again”, you scoff, not sure why you were biting back at him. Vessel stands up, reaching for your hand, “Can you stand up real quick”, and it’s not a question. His arms are steadying you as you both move. The baby lets out an annoyed grunt from all the commotion. One that Vessel is quick to soothe with a couple of kisses to their head.

And then he’s careful dragging you towards the bedroom. Towards your biggest enemy. The full wall mirror. But he doesn’t let you halt as he pulls you right in front of it. Standing protectively behind you. Leaning in to kiss the side of your head, your shoulder.

“I’m starting to think that we see very different things when we look in the mirror”, he says. “Bet, you are a sex god and I am just…”, you start only to be cut off by Vess, “I dare you to finish that sentence”. And there’s an edge to his voice now. The protector in full force. You feel your eyes sting slightly. “You are talking shit about a body that grew our baby”, he continues, hands reaching for your sides as he pulls you against him. “You grew eyelashes, little toes, blue eyes here”, his fingers snake beneath the stained shirt, gliding effectively over your skin. “But I was pretty before this”, you hiccup slightly, watching him watch you in the mirror. “You were”, he admits before adding, “You’re gorgeous now”. Your heart skips a beat and you let a sob slip past your lips. Leaning your head back against his chest. Vessel is right there ready to kiss each tear away. Ready to breathe you in. Until you believe in it too.

iii

He had just come home after rehearsals. Arms full of shit he randomly bought at a grocery store cause Thursday was always movie night. He halts listening for the noises around the apartment. The bub should be having an evening nap now and at times it means you’re also napping so he doesn’t want to disturb either one of you. It’s the light sniffing that makes his senses perk up almost immediately. So iii is kicking off his shoes in a hurry as he moves towards the sound.

He finds you in the laundry room. Hands clenching onto a white dress he knew you had worn so many times back when you two used to go clubbing still. Your tear-stained cheeks kill him internally. He can handle lots of shit but not you crying. So iii is reaching out to you, making you jump ever so slightly. “Shit, I didn’t hear you”, you breathe out, quickly wiping your damp cheeks. But you know that the damage is done. He saw you. Lying about it would be pointless.

He comes to tower over you, both palms cupping your cheeks as he lifts your face so he can see you better, “Hey, what’s wrong?”, he muses. Blue eyes drowning you in. “Come here look at me”, he urges, reaching down to hold onto your thighs as he lifts you, setting you down on the washing machine. Parting your thighs so he could step between your legs.

You let out a deep sigh, “Just don’t feel like me”, admitting it out loud feeling just painful. “What do you mean by that?”, he has an inkling where this is going but he’s not about to jump to conclusions. Even more so not pointing it out because he doesn’t want to fuel the fire that’s already burning.

“Have you seen my tits my shirt straps are holding on for dear life”, you grunt, with a shake of your head. “Oh I’ve seen them”, iii can’t help but smirk, “wouldn’t mind seeing them more often”, he wiggles his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side so he can lean closer to you.

“iii”, you can’t help a little snort that slips past your lips. “What? I am an honest man”, he puts his palm on his heart before reaching out to squeeze your thighs, “Same goes for your thighs if I could I would be all over you”, he wraps your legs around his torso. You look up at him, “Yeah but I’m… don’t you think that I’m ugly now, not as hot?”, you ask, before chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Not as hot?”, iii raises his eyebrows, “Mama, you are the hottest. Sizzling hot, look”, he presses a finger to the swell of your breast, letting out a hiss before blowing at the tip of his finger as if he had just gotten burnt. You can’t help but let out a laugh as you shake your head, “You’re unbelievable”. A grin spread over his face, “No, you are unbelievable, unbelievably beautiful”, he pointed out, reaching to cup your jaw, “You brought life into this world that’s fucking breathtaking”, he muses against your lips before leaning in to kiss you.

ii

He has the baby sprawled on his forearm. Little koala straddling a tree trunk. He loves it like that. The little kicks growing into sleepy calmness. He’s mixing eggs with a fork with the other hand. Humming a tune beneath his breath, a new melody he’s been working on with the boys.

“I’m not going”, his happy bubble is busted with the sound of your voice as he turns towards you. “What do you mean you’re not going?”, he frowns slightly. Eyes falling over your curves and the summery dress you had on. Maybe not going was a good option. If he got the baby to sleep he would have you all to himself and if he could just yank the skirt part up…

“Look at me”, you huff in frustration making ii blink. “I am looking, I’m looking”, he nods not following your train of thought. “And?”, you say in frustration. He frowns slightly, “And?”, he repeats your question because he’s genuinely not seeing an issue or maybe the dress was new and he should have said something about it. “I look pathetic in this. I can’t go out looking like that”, you pull at the material of your dress before turning to the side, pinching the bride of your nose.

ii bounces the still half asleep baby in his arms, before carefully lowering them into the swing. He doesn’t have to see you. He can feel the tears streaming down your face. Each tear leaving a new crack in his heart. So he’s turning to you, reaching for your hand but you bat his arms away from you. “Nah, I ain’t having any of this”, he muses, stepping in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face, and guiding them over his torso instead.

“Did someone say anything about the way you look?”, he asks, “Cause I am not opposed to shoving drum sticks up someone’s ass”. You just shake your head, “Everything just feels different, I feel like every part of my body is not mine”, you admit, lip wobbling. “You were just pregnant, you’re feeding a child now and your hormones are once again having a field day”, he states firmly, “Why are you taring yourself apart for something so natural and normal?”, “I just want to feel like myself again”, you muttered, resting your head on his chest. “We can go clothes shopping if you hate what you have, clothes are meant to fit you not the other way around. We can go work out together if that would make you feel better and I am not referring to sex, although…”, ii trails off. “ii”, you grunt, making him smirk, “I’m just saying, if you need me home more so you could do more stuff that would make you feel better, you let me know and I will make it happen”, he reaches out, cupping your face. Carefully brush some of your hair away from your face.

iv

Ivy had a feeling that something had been off for some time now. You’ve been pushing his hands away from your body, or simply escaping his embrace. You stopped changing in front of him. Instead opting to take your clothes to the bathroom. But it’s the Sunday morning that does it for him. He had just settled the baby for the morning nap after feeding them the bottle. He hears the shower running and as if on out-pilot, he’s yanking his shirt over his head. Grabbing the baby monitor and walking towards the shared bathroom. He’s tugging at his shorts when his shoulder collides with the door. He frowns, reaching for the handle only to find it locked. A part of him understood your need for alone time but he much rather get told off and be shushed out of the bathroom than be locked out of it.

So he sits on the bed, right in front of the door. Waiting for you to come out. Not angry not frustrated, but feeling the need to finally bring this up. You unlock the door sometime later. Halting mid-step when you see iv sitting there. “I wasn’t expecting you here”, you chuckle slightly. “We always shower together”, he points out. You watch him for a moment. “You locked the doors”, he says softly, “not that it’s a bad thing, you can do that just… I feel like you’ve been avoiding me”. His words make your heart ache.

“And if I’ve done something to upset you, I would love to know 'cause I am too stupid to see that”, he gets up walking closer to you. You let out a deep sigh but don’t push him away this time. Missing his touch just as much. “I’m sorry”, he mumbles, and you shake your head, “You haven’t done anything wrong it’s all on me”, you let your fingers run over his arms as you think over your next words. “I just… I don’t look the same and I… I guess I was hoping I could bounce back and then you wouldn’t have to see me out of shape”. The sentence comes out like one big breath. You watchiv blink slowly. He opens his mouth a couple of times before closing it.

“I’m sorry but that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard”, he shakes his head, “What do you mean bounce back? See what? I’ve seen everything. I put frozen pads in your nickers may I remind you of that, after putting that squirty thing to hose it down”. “It’s a peri bottle, not a hose”, you roll your eyes with a shake of your head. “Doesn’t change the point”, he shrugs.

“I just don’t like how I look and I guess…”, your voice dies down as you bite your lips. “Well, rock into my fucking garden. I’ve done a shit job of reminding you of how beautiful you are to me”, iv wraps an arm over your middle, pulling you close to him. “Should have seen through this. I just thought you needed alone time”. He presses his forehead to yours, “Not running a hate campaign against yourself. We can’t have that, love”. You give him a sad smile, “I’ve missed you”, you mutter. “I’m here and I’m taking over your worshipping”, his hands reach behind your thighs as he pulls you up and into his arms.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

For the first time in a long time, Eskel wasn’t the first one back. It wasn’t surprising, apparently Geralt had arrived back a fortnight ago, anxious to be back with Ciri. The child was currently sat at one of the long tables, legs swinging as she drew in the blank journal Vesemir had given her whilst the adults talked amongst themselves. It was to be a welcome home present for her Uncle Eskel and therefore, she was determined to make it the best picture of her entire six years.

“I ran into Lambert a couple of months back.” Eskel said as he finished warming up by the roaring fire in the great hall after his climb up to Kaer Morhen, “He said he’s bringing his Cat with him this year.”

Vesemir nodded, “Meaning he’ll be coming from further South, so we should expect him a little later.”

Ciri looked up at that, “Uncle Lambert has a cat?”

“Hmm? Yes, Aiden.”  Geralt answered, attention still mostly on his brother.

Ciri gave an excited wiggle. Her grandmother had never allowed her to have a pet. The closest she’d come was the cat owned by one of the courtiers; a fat, fluffy thing with a squashed face named Pumpkin (something which had confused Ciri, considering the cat wasn’t orange). She imagined pulling a string for them to chase, sitting petting them whilst Uncle Eskel read to her from one of the storybooks he’d decided wasn’t too grown up for her like he had last winter. Maybe she’d be allowed to have them sleep in her room sometimes. Oh yes, Ciri couldn’t wait!

“Papa, where will Aiden be sleeping?” Ciri had looked all around the Keep and she couldn’t find anything resembling a cat bed. Not even a cushion like the one Pumpkin would spend all day sitting on.

“He usually shares with Lambert.” Geralt said, as he tucked her in, “He’ll have his own room too though. Just incase.”

Ciri blinked. The cat was going to have its own room, “Why?”

“He’s like anybody else. He likes to have his own space sometimes or he gets grumpy. You warm enough?”

She nodded, feeling her eyelids already starting to grow heavy, “Goodnight, Papa.”

“Goodnight, Cub.”

Ciri was perched on one of the kitchen counters, munching on a couple of carrot sticks Eskel had handed to her when a thought struck her, “Uncle Eskel, will Aiden have to catch and eat the rats?”

Eskel laughed loudly and had to pause in his vegetable chopping so he didn’t lose a finger, “You know, I only said that as a joke about your Uncle Lambert’s cooking, right? And no, Cub, there’s more than enough here for Aiden too. Nobody's going to go hungry.”

“Okay.” Ciri nodded and went back to her snack, satisfied with her answer she’d gotten.

 Geralt reported seeing smoke halfway down the mountain. Lambert would be home by tomorrow.

“Will Aiden like me?”

Pumpkin had hissed and scratched at her if she ever tried to pet him or play with him after all. Even though she was nice and never tried to pull his tail or anything like that.

Vesemir ruffled her hair, “He’ll love you, Cub. Just do as you do with everyone else here and take heed if he wants to be left alone, alright? Don’t go chasing him.”

“We were worried you wouldn’t make it.” Geralt said, embracing Lambert in a rough hug, not waiting for the other to shake the snow off his cloak and boots, “Thought we’d have to come down and dig you out. Aiden.” He extended a hand to the stranger, who grasped it tightly.

Ciri stared up at the man stood next to her uncle. The man her papa had called Aiden. He was a little shorter and leaner, but still tall with green eyes and a friendly smile, his curly black hair flecked with snow and tied back from his face.

“You’re not a cat.”

That drew their attention. Aiden cocking his head towards her with an “Eh?” whilst Geralt hissed her name in admonishment.

Ciri crossed her arms, “Papa, you all said Uncle Lambert was bringing a cat back.”

“Geralt, what is she-“

Aiden put a hand on Lambert's forearm, interrupting him,  “I think I see what’s happened.”

He crouched so he was level with the little girl, fighting to keep down his laughter lest she think it was directed at her and not the situation (Eskel had already lost that battle and had retreated to the kitchen), “I’m a Cat in the same way your Uncle Lambert’s a Wolf. That’s my school, see.” He held out his medallion for Ciri to get a good look at.

“There’s other Witcher schools?”

“A year here and she doesn’t know that. What the fuck have you actually been teaching her, old man?”

“Lambert, watch your language!”

Ciri turned big eyes on the group, “So, there’s no cat for me to play with?”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that, Cub. I’m always up for a round of hide and seek, and I bet you’ve found all the best hiding places by now.”

Ciri nodded, it was true. When she wasn’t at lessons with Grandpa Vesemir, she’d had a lot of time to explore.

Aiden gave her an easy grin, “Great.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper, “You can show me the best places to hide from your Uncle. It’s always funny making him jump.”

Ciri giggled.

“Alright, back to your lessons now Ciri. Let Lambert and Aiden get settled.”

 Ciri took Geralt’s hand, letting him lead her to the library. They may have waited until Ciri was out of earshot, but Geralt heard all too clearly the Cats laughter and Jaskier-worthy exclamations about how she was “Too fucking adorable!”. Geralt smiled down at the little blonde head. Yes, she most definitely was.

[prrism]

I arise from the void! *slams down post* Enjoy! *crawls back into void*

Spring Ache

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part ?

Summary: With Spring melting away the cold of winter you were ready to get to work, however Techno was not…

Characters: Techno x Reader

Relationship: Parental/platonic

Pronouns: Unspecified/kept neutral

Today’s gonna be a good day. With the cold of winter finally starting to melt away you were more then ready to get things ready for farming, while you did mostly work with weapons you enjoyed dabbling in other activities like farming, keeps you self sufficient and sharp to your surroundings. Not to mention you now had a little helper with you this time… or you would if he’d hurry up and get downstairs already.

“Techno! We’ve got a long day ahead of us, I need you down here.” You call, after a minute with no response worry starts to creep in. You upstairs and knock on his door. “Techno? Is everything alright?” Only a muffled whimper is heard, you quickly open the door to see him holding his jaw in pain. You kneel down and motion for him to approach, when he does you just lightly touch his jaw and he flinches away in pain, very abnormal.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna check something real quick.” You stand again and leave the room, you start looking through various bookshelves in hopes of finding something that could help. Old texts… fairytales… ah hah! Research notes on the Nether, it’s a bit of an outdated book now but it should have enough information for the time being. Flipping through most of it until you reach the section about piglins, proceeding to skim through it. You mumble aloud as you read through the section, finally finding what you were looking for.

“Our investigation has shown immature piglin’s start growing out their tusks between the young years of 6-10. Observed to be painful as they must outgrow the infant tusks. Many of the young seem to favour a certain mushroom native to the Nether at this time, acting as some type of numbing agent.” You look though the rest of the page and sigh, as helpful as the information is they never clarified which type of mushroom was used to help. Not that it mattered, Techno didn’t seem in any condition for a trip and you were certainly not going to just leave him here alone. You settle for a more human approach to the problem, sitting him back on his bed and handing him a bag of ice, he eyes you questionably.

“Don’t give me that, mister. When people get bad toothaches we usually numb the pain with some ice, you’ll also only be eating soft foods for a bit so you don’t hurt jaw more.” You hear him sigh, displeased. “I’ll make you some mashed potatoes.” Instantly he perks up again, you chuckle at this. “Alright, you try to relax for I bit, okay. Once this is over we’ll go back to our regularly scheduled routine.” He nods and you ruffle his hair, to his dismay, stepping away to get started on those mashed potatoes.

A week later and your garden is coming along great, showing signs of sprouting already. Phil had come by to visit a couple days ago, more then happy to give you a hand once you explained what was happening, sadly Kristen had to say back, apparently their own child was being rowdy, something about sand. With the extra hand you were able to check in with Techno more, switching ice packs when they melted and making sure he still had something to do, his jaw may have been hurting but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do anything. Today, while spreading some fresh bonemeal you hear someone approach, looking over to see Techno.

“Hey kiddo. Wanna help spread the rest of this on the carrots for me?” You smirk when he gives you an annoyed look.

“Do I have too.” He drones, you roll your eyes.

“Farming is just as important as fighting. Also those tusks are looking great.” You quickly add the last part. Techno looks at you confused, you summon your sword as it was the quickest reflective you had and let him see the newly grown in tusks.

“Whoa. So that’s why my mouth feels weird.” He inspects himself.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to them soon enough. Now about those carrots.”

“Yeah, I’m going.” He gives a light huff and takes some bonemeal from you, you smile. Yup, today’s gonna be a good day.

Taglist:

@maxismp1

@justmare

@anon-duck

[randomprose]

“What are you doing?”

Guan Shan doesn’t pause as he drops a piece of stir fried carrot on He Tian’s bowl.

“Feeding you, you ungrateful dick.” Guan Shan says over a mouthful of sweet and sour fish. And then, just to prove his point, he also picks up a slice of mushroom and deposits it on top of He Tian’s rice. “Eat up.” 

“What am I a rabbit?” He Tian grouses as he picks at the different vegetables Guan Shan kept on piling at his bowl over the course of dinner. There’s not even any meat in it. “I don’t remember being a vegetarian.”

“Oh, believe me. I know you’re not.”

He Tian makes a face at the greens on his bowl which Guan Shan pointedly ignores. Beside them, Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi are fighting over the last piece of shrimp. On both ends of the table sit Qiu-ge and He Cheng quietly eating and the only ones exercising proper dining etiquette. 

Zhan Zheng Xi snags the last piece of shrimp but willingly relinquishes at Jian Yi’s pout. Qiu-ge rolls his eyes at the exchange as he reaches between them for another slice of pork feet.

They weren’t supposed to be part of dinner. The whole affair was supposed to be just for two. He Tian got a new place downtown and asked (read: demanded, made) Guan Shan come over and cook them a housewarming dinner. Ten minutes into Guan Shan bossing around He Tian to cut vegetables, the doorbell rang because somehow Jian Yi found out and wanted a free meal as usual. He bodied his way in with Zhan Zheng Xi in tow because where Jian Yi goes he goes. 

He Cheng and Qiu-ge arrived just as they were setting the table. He Tian had hit Jian Yi over the head for being a blabber mouth and didn’t want to let them in, but Qiu-ge muttered something about a burned house and a flooded bedroom as he pushed He Tian aside. He never did forget that incident the one (and only) time he bought them dinner. At least they brought dessert and wine. The good expensive kind. 

Guan Shan just thanked all fuck he followed his gut and made enough food to feed more than four.

He moves to put a piece of bok choy on He Tian’s bowl but his chopsticks get intercepted. He looks up and meets He Tian’s eyes. 

Stop. Don’t you dare.

His hand moves and drops it on the bowl anyway, delicately balancing it amidst the rice and all the other vegetables He Tian has moved around and still refuses to eat.

I dare.

“Fuck, Guan Shan. If you insists on shoving a balanced meal down my throat at least put some meat in it too.”

“Fine,” Guan Shang sighs muttering ‘picky eater, fucking child’ under his breath. “There.”

He puts a piece of chicken breast on He Tian’s bowl. Steamed. No Sauce. White meat.

He Tian sends him an annoyed smile. The glint in his eyes tells Guan Shan he’s about to try his patience some more and do something stupid.

“I’ll eat the vegetables if you feed them to me, darling~.”

He Tian says this with a sugary smile not caring if He Cheng is literally on the same table and witnessing his brother acting shamelessly. His tone is lilting with the pet name as an annoyingly cloying cherry on top, all meant to embarrass Guan Shan, he knows, but years of being exposed to He Tian’s shamlessness has somewhat immuned him to his antics. Somewhat.

This is one of those times. Guan Shan takes food and nutrition very seriously. 

“Fine.” Guan Shan picks up the piece of bok choy and puts it near He Tian’s mouth. “Open up.”

He Tian rears back as he looks at the piece of vegetable like it personally offended him. Then he looks at Guan Shan, nonchalantly but expectantly holding up his chopsticks as if feeding a child, and glares.

“Mo Guan Shan.” A warning.

“He Tian.” A challenge.

The table has grown silent as everyone watches the exchange. He Cheng sips at his wine and continues to eat, acting like he doesn’t care and pretending the scene in front of him doesn't interest him, but He Tian knows he’s waiting as well. No one has ever succeeded in making him eat his vegetables. Not the baby sitters, not the maids, not He Cheng, not even their own mother.

He Tian’s glare intensifies, feeling like a cornered animal. There’s oyster sauce dripping down the bok choy’s stem. He tries to convey a promise of wicked retribution to try and scare Guan Shan into backing down but he just meets He Tian's glare with a look that says 'If you don't eat your vegetables I will never cook for you again. Ever.' 

And He Tian can say he doesn’t care. It’s just food after all and he's got the money to eat good food whenever the fuck he wants if he feels like it. But the truth is it’s a real threat because he’s always really liked Guan Shang’s food. His cooking has truly elevated ever since he started apprenticing under a chef that own’s a famous family restaurant at Dongcheng. He’s saving up money to go to culinary school next year. Get proper professional training and get certified. When that happens, Guan Shan’s food is gonna be stupidly hella good and if He Tian doesn’t yield now Guan Shan will surely make good with his threat. He'll probably still cook for Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi just to spite him and He Tian really doesn’t want that.

So He Tian opens his mouth and lets Guan Shan feed him his stupid vegetables. 

Beside them, He Cheng stifles a smile through his wine glass. ‘Whipped’ his eyes taunts and He Tian glares at him acidly through his mouthful of bokchoy. 

Later, when the table has been cleared and they’ve all had dessert, He Cheng gets a call and he and Qiu-ge excuse themselves to leave. He Tian walks them to the door, anticipating an order or a job assignment. There usually is something whenever He Cheng gets a call that requires him to leave immediately.

“Nice wife you got there,” He Cheng comments as he puts on his coat.

A teasing instead of an order.

It catches He Tian off-guard. His eyes stray to where Guan Shan is making Jian Yi do the dishes while Zhan Zheng Xi cleans the pots and pans. He’s got a plain white apron on and a towel drying a plate Jian Yi has finished washing. He makes him redo it when he deems it not clean enough. The kettle sounds off and Guan Shan goes to turn it off. There’s three mugs with instant coffee on the counter and one with a teabag of green tea for Jian Yi.

And suddenly, He Tian is hit with the word. Wife. Guan Shan will blow his top off if he finds out he’s being referred to as such so He Tian thinks of another word. Husband. The word hits him like a freight train, heady with the images it implies. 

Fuck. He Tian will gladly be called the wife if he gets to call Mo Guan Shan his husband.

“He’s uh—Huh. Hm. Yeah. That’s—He’s…Yeah.”

He Cheng follows Qiu-ge out the door. He lights up a cigarette, shaking his head at his brother and thinks, 'Whipped'.

[creadigol]

Finally! I have a continuation of the Villain/Photographer prompt!

Villain and Photographer Part ii

I hope you all like it!

Photographer sat in their living room, looking out at the rain as it aggressively streaked down their window. The light sounds of vintage music from the ‘30s and ‘40s echoed from their kitchen, but it didn’t give them the comfort and focus it usually did. Not with them in the kitchen. Cooking like it was a normal Wednesday evening. Asking Photographer what they preferred, carrots or peas? Potatoes or noodles? Every now and then Photographer would ask that they go out and get something from the Thai place or sub shop, just to see their unwelcome guest’s reaction…

Photographer learned early on that such suggestions were not appreciated.

So here they were, looking out their own window, sitting on their own couch, getting ready to eat their own food…all while a prisoner in their own home.

“I added a little paprika to the stew, hope you don’t mind, I like a little kick to my food.”

Photographer worked hard not to flinch at the voice as it entered their space. They tried their best everyday not to show any semblance of emotion towards Hero, no matter how long they kept them here, no matter how much they threatened them. Photographer wondered how long they could keep doing it.

“You like a little kick to a lot of things,” Photographer replied. Like thugs, ruffians, Villain…and most recently, Photographer’s stomach.

Hero let out a long sigh, as if dealing with an impudent child.

“You know,” Hero said sweetly, “We could stop this whole dog and pony show if you would just agree to my terms…and tell me where the film is. Honestly, I can’t see why you’re being so stubborn. It’s not like anyone even supports you on this.”

Photographer didn’t look away from the window. It was true, no one supported them on this. Hero already had Reporter and Editor in their pocket…Photographer was the last piece of the puzzle to control everything in the popular news agency. Everyone in the city trusted their agency to be the one to tell the truth, that was the whole reason Photographer had started it with their friends in the first place. It seemed Photographer was the last to hold out.

Hero walked closer to them, leaning over their head and looking at both of their reflections in the window. They spoke close to Photographer's ear.

“What are you even doing this for? Pride? Stubbornness? Some silly inclination that you’ll be the triumphant whistle blower of a whole conspiracy? Please, no one really cares what the truth is anymore. They never did…”

They gripped Photographer’s shoulders painfully, “Or maybe you think you can win?” They shook Photographer, their head almost hitting the glass of the window.

“You can’t win…just give me the film and do your job as I say and your freedom will be restored to you.”

You liar, thought Photographer. If I agree, my freedom will never be restored…not truly. They chose to remain silent. Closing their eyes so as not to see their reflection so close to Hero’s in the window.

“Dammit Photographer!” Hissed Hero, their grip relentless. Photographer flinched at the tone. “You know what I’ll have to do if you don’t relent soon! You think I want that? Think about all we’ve been through! Why would you make me do that?”

Instinctively Photographer tensed up, sensing what was coming next from Hero. This had become their normal nightly routine in the last two weeks. It always ended with Photographer in pain on the floor.

Knock, knock, knock. They both swiveled their heads towards the apartment door.

Hero abruptly let go of Photographer and took a step back.

“You know the drill,” Hero said to them. “I’ll be in the kitchen finishing dinner. Get rid of whoever it is quickly. If not,” Hero gave a sinister smile, “you know what happens to them.”

Photographer only nodded. So far they had been good enough at lying to dissuade anyone from wanting to come into the apartment, but they knew if they messed up even once Hero would make good on their threat. They would probably even enjoy it.

Hero walked into the kitchen and Photographer heard the music being turned down.

With a fake steady step Photographer walked over and looked through the peephole.

Holy shit! It was Villain!

At first Villain had been worried that no one was home. Maybe Photographer moved? Went on an extended vacation and that was why they hadn’t been on the job in a while? Maybe took a job with someone else for a while just to avoid the politics of this city for a bit? But that thought soon fled their mind as they heard music from within the apartment on their approach. Old vintage…yeah, that seemed like Photographer’s style.

The music abruptly went down after they knocked. Villain waited for someone to answer.

They heard a small gasp on the other side of the door. Then the sound of a chain lock being removed.

Their heart jumped into their throat. What if Photographer told them to sod off? That they were the villain everyone saw them as? What if this was the wrong apartment?

The door flew open.

Photographer stood there. One hand on the door handle, the other clenched in a fist in front of them. They looked…god, they looked terrible.

Photographer’s eyes were sunken, dark circles outlining them and emphasizing emotion that Photographer was usually able to put away during a job. They stood slightly hunched, like their ribs were bothering them, and rather than stay in a fist, their fingers were moving and twitching like crazy.

My god, what happened to you? Villain wanted to shout. Instead they waited for Photographer to say something.

“Why are you here?” Photographer said in a calm and confident voice which did not match their appearance.

“I…” Villain took a breath. “You haven’t been underfoot taking pictures lately.”

Photographer’s hand made another movement and their fingers snapped impatiently.

“Perhaps because there’s nothing worth taking pictures of. The last time seemed information enough for the public.”

Villain felt their anger rise.

“And you just take it at face value then? I thought you were better than that.”

Photographer’s hand made flippant gesture. The other still on the door handle.

“Face value is my trade, in case you didn’t notice. Perhaps you should be talking to Reporter about this and not darkening my doorstep with your schemes.”

“As if…” Villain trailed off. Photographer was twitching their hand so badly now it was hard not to take notice.

H E L P

Oh….OH.

“Well excuse me for living,” Villain finished.

It was taking a moment. The other hand was still on the door handle so they could only do one letter at a time along with simple gestures.

“You’re excused. And while you’re at it, please inform whoever gave you my address that despite my love for putting images in the public eye, I myself enjoy privacy so if they could refrain from sending anyone else here…” Photographer kept signing as they spoke.

Trapped…Hero here…trapped…can’t leave…please

“I will. Can’t say I’m surprised…You’re all the same in the end,” Villain said it with disgust as they avidly watched Photographer’s hand.

Have film…hide film…Hero want

“Well, news is news. Whatever gets readers is all I care about,” Photographer flipped their hair out of their eyes. Villain saw a deep bruise on their neck. If they weren’t so focused on Photographer’s signing, they would have been overcome with rage.

Hero was so going to die for this.

Know truth…no trust…alone…alone…trapped…please

Villain nodded that they understood the message as they said, “Then I guess I’m done here. No more excuses now you know. I’m not going to avoid you when I let off an attack or let you take as many photos as you want…no more telling the other villains to leave off. You’re on your own now.”

If it wasn’t for the reassuring look on their face as they said it, Villain was sure these words would have broken Photographer who looked so close to collapsing under some unseen pressure.

“Fine. Goodbye.”

Photographer swung the door closed, but not before seeing Villain sign back.

You’re not alone.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 2: Employed By Criminals

I can’t stand waiting any longer. I’ve been in my new room for what seems like an hour and no one has come to give any further instructions. The time I took to settle in only lasted five minutes, considering all my possessions fit in a small suitcase. So, I decide now I will explore.

I peek through the keyhole and find the kitchen outside to be empty. After opening the door I stick my head out to survey again. Still empty. Where is everyone? The least I can do now is to prepare dinner. After scavenging the kitchen I find some vegetables and spices to work with. No meat, but I’m not going to make a fool of myself around looking for the meat cellar. After I’ve started boiling water and mixed in some herbs I begin to chop the vegetables.

“You’re back,” Finn states as he enters from another side door, looking at the pot with new-found interest. “What’s that?”

“Dinner. Oh, since I didn’t get a good chance to introduce myself, my name’s Verena. Just so you know. Your aunt hired me to be your tutor.”

Finn scrunches his face in dislike. “Ugh. That again? Aunt Polly knows I hate reading!”

“What do you enjoy instead?” I try to sound optimistic as I peel the carrots.

“I like math better, like the math Tommy does for the business. Reading’s too complicated.”

“Not necessarily. What have you read before?”

“The Wind In The Willows, Peter Rabbit, all that kids stuff.”

“Well then it seems to me that you just need to find content you enjoy. Fiction may not be your choice, but you might like books of science, philosophy, or social issues. Have you heard of the Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy by Isaac Newton, or Relativity: The Special and General Theory by Albert Einstein? Maybe The Jungle by Upton Sinclair? Actually-” I set down my knife and rush to my room, returning with a book from my suitcase. “I brought this with me on vacation for light reading.” I hand the curious child the worn book. “It’s the Common Sense pamphlet by Thomas Paine. It’s American, but I’m sure it’s much more interesting than Peter Rabbit.”

Finn apprehensively scans the first page, and I can’t hide my growing smile as a look of interest begins to spread on his face. He starts reading, wandering down the hall while not looking up once. Maybe I’ll make a good tutor after all.

“Alright, enough chatter. Let’s eat.” An approaching voice speaks.

I go back to chopping carrots and don’t bother to look up until the voice speaks again.

“Who are you?”

When I lift my gaze to find the voice’s source, a pair of icy blue eyes are peering into me. The eyes belong to a man with a well-sculpted face that shows both stern and commanding intentions. He’s wearing gray trousers, black dress shoes, white shirt and gray vest, as well as a flat cap that John was wearing earlier. He’s also smoking a cigarette, which has brought a foul stench along with it.

“Who let you in here?” The man asks, not even waiting for me to answer his first question.

“Polly did. Pleasure to meet you-”

“But you can’t be here. I’ll have to talk to her.” Then he walks off and starts pouring himself some water, and I faintly hear him mutter: “We don’t take in strays.”

Excuse me? Since when does this guy get to treat me like dirt? Maybe it’s the American mutt temper, but I’ve got the urge to give him a piece of my mind!

I lean against the counter and look up with rebellious eyes. “Gotta say, your accent is a bit on the tricky side. Mind saying that again?”

The man seems taken back by the tone of my voice, as if he’s not used to people being sassy with him. He’s quick to regain his posture and has a smirk growing on his lips.

“And I’ll say that your American accent is downright pathetic compared to ours. You lot still never got over being independent, did you? Gotta flaunt it about in all our faces!”

My jaw drops. “I never even mentioned that! I think you’re the one holding a grudge based on a war you weren’t even a part of!” He tries to interrupt but I keep talking. “And for the record, we Americans are current allies with you. So instead of arguing about something that happened a hundred and forty years ago, I say we uphold each country’s honor and talk as if we’re on the same level. Do you agree?”

The man keeps staring at me, seeming to ponder whether or not to argue again.

“This book is really good!” Finn interrupts the silence from down the hall.

I grin at his enthusiasm and go back to chopping carrots, ignoring the man’s blank stare.

“Polly said you know Finn, my new student.”

His eyes flick upwards to find mine again. “Pardon?”

“I’m his tutor, or at least I have been for the past hour. Polly hired me, so that’s why I’m here.”

“Interesting…”

Now he’s looking at me in a different manner, as if sizing me up as a potential threat. Why would he do that? The man slowly walks around the counter towards me and removes his cap, allowing me to see he has dark hair in a style similar to Finn’s. He turns it over and sets it on the counter, as if he wants me to get a closer look. What I do I notice it’s got something shiny peeking out of the brim.

“What’s with the custom hat? It’s made of metal, or something?”

The man simply chuckles and holds back the fabric to show- razors?

“You sew razor blades into your hat? Now I’ve heard everything! And I thought Americans were crazy!”

“Is that soup I smell?” Another voice comes from the same way the man came. Another man enters the room and I recognize him as John. When he sees us, his eyes acquire a hint of uncertainty. “Thomas, I see you’ve met Verena. Polly was just telling me about her.”

So this is the Thomas I was warned about? I guess Polly wasn’t kidding when she said he was ruff. 

“Not officially, John. She was just telling about how Polly hired her to teach Finn. May I ask why?”

“Polly says it’s because he needs a proper education. Not one that’s only taught through bookkeeping. Can’t say I blame her. When’s the last time any of us actually sat down with him and taught him something?”

Thomas shrugs. “If he’s going to be part of the Blinders he’ll learn all he needs to know by watching us.”

The name sends a chill down my spine and I snap to attention.

“Wait- Blinders? As in Peaky Blinders…? Oh my God.” I look back and forth between Thomas and John, still holding the knife. “Shelby! That’s the name! Shelby! I’ve heard things about you, what kind of a man you are! Excuse me, but I do not want to be involved with anything surrounding you!”

I grip the knife and dash for the hallway, yanking on the door handle only to find it’s locked. Panicking, I stand in the corner with the knife held out as Thomas Shelby struts towards me- holding a pistol!

“Please, don’t kill me! I have nothing to offer! You’d just be wasting a bullet!”

There’s no answer, only Thomas looking at me with cold eyes.

“Verena! Verena! Polly, where'd she go?” Finn’s voice comes from down the hall. He turns his head and sees me, with a wide grin on his face. God, I can’t let him see me get killed!

“Finn…? Finn! Did you finish your reading?” I speak in a quivering voice.

“Almost. I’ve only got a few more pages.”

I nod shakily still looking between Finn and Thomas, who’s looking at him while still holding the gun up. “Alright, go and finish up and then I’ll be right over.”

Finn heads back into his room, and I look up to glare into Thomas’ calculating eyes. “I swear to God, if you so much as lay a finger on that boy-!”

“You’ll what?” Thomas asks in a laid-back manner. “A moment ago you were begging for me not to kill you. Now you’re threatening me not to kill my own brother?”

My mind stops. “Brother…? He’s your brother? Oh…” I shamefully look to the floor, cursing myself in my head for making such a stupid mistake. “But you’ll still kill me.”

The next few quiet seconds are so suspenseful I swear I can hear my own heart beating. I dare to look back up at Thomas, who now shakes his head.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

My brow furrows at his words. “This means I’m fired then, doesn’t it?”

By now John’s entered the hallway and comes over to stand in front of Thomas.

“Why would we fire you? From what Polly’s told me and what we’ve seen here, you haven’t given us any reason to fire you.”

“But my question is-” Thomas steps forward. “Can she be trusted? How do we know she’s loyal to us?”

I bite my lip and lower the knife I’m holding. “With all due respect sir, you’re technically my employer. That and the fact that you’re temporarily housing me gives me enough reason to be loyal. And if for whatever reason in the future I might not be, you can kick me to the dirt.”

Both men exchange looks, seeming to have a silent conversation while I stand here awkwardly. Eventually John gestures for Thomas to put away the gun, who seems to have forgotten he had it out.

“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Thomas says in a lighter tone. “What was your name again?”

Now that he’s not holding a gun at me, Thomas actually seems decent. I might dare to even call him handsome. Remember, this is your boss now. Keep it professional. Don’t lose your head.

I stand up straighter and hold out a hand to shake his. “Verena Nora Steenstra. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby.” I turn to John and shake his hand too. “You as well, Mr. Shelby. I was told by Polly to wait for any further instructions. In the meantime there is soup in the pot if you’re interested.”

“Wait.” Thomas gets an odd look. “You… made dinner? Why?”

Now that I have more leverage, I hold my breath to squeeze past the two men and back into the kitchen. “I had nothing else to do, and it’s the least I can do since you’ve allowed me into your home.”

Just then, Polly comes into the room. She hesitates when she sees us, giving John and Thomas a certain look. Then she sees the pot on the stove.

“Who cooked? Ada hasn’t made anything in weeks.”

The two men look at each other, then point to me. Polly seems impressed.

“You appear to be a lady of many talents, Ms. Steenstra.”

My face goes pink at her praise and I busy myself by stirring the soup. “I know my way around the kitchen. My family thinks it’s proper for me to be a suitable housewife, so that’s what I’ve been expected to do my whole life. Cooking, baking, sewing, the works. In all honesty, this is the first real job I’ve ever had.”

When I turn back to them, they’re all sitting at the table and appear to all be whispering something. Thomas is the one to speak first.

“So you’re from America, and for the moment you are stuck here?”

“Correct.”

He nods slowly. “Welcome to Birmingham, Ms. Steenstra. Here’s exactly what you’re getting yourself into, love. My family runs a bookkeeping business, and we do our part to keep a close eye on the authorities. People know better not to mess with us.”

“Bookkeeping, like gambling?”

“Correct.”

Dear Lord, I’ve become involved with criminals!

Polly seems to catch onto my panicked thoughts. “You need not worry about being caught up with our work. You’ll only be interacting with Finn.” Polly’s eyes narrow. “If anyone asks, you’re a private tutor and only a private tutor. Do not go asking too many questions.”

I nod shakily and wring my hands together. “Seems to me like a world made up of gambling, drinking, and violence.” I shake my head and give her a skeptical look. “That doesn’t seem like a world I want to be involved in.”

“You won’t have to, and I suggest you don’t.”

By now Finn’s returned and is sitting next to John, but he’s not the only one who’s entered. Over the past few minutes a man with a mustache and a younger woman with short dark hair wearing a red dress are now standing across from me. Thankfully Polly notices my discomfort.

“Everyone, we need proper introductions. This is Verena Steenstra, and she’s going to be helping Finn with his studies. Verena, you’ve met Finn, Thomas, and John. The final Shelby brother is Arthur over there.” She points to the mustache man. “And Ada’s their sister.” She points to the woman in red.

Wow. The Shelbys are a big family. And suspicious ones at that, because they’re all looking at me as if they’re dogs eyeing a piece of meat.

“Polly, no offense, but I don’t like this,” the one called Arthur grunts. “Who says the bitch won’t tattle to the coppers the instant she leaves? How do you know she isn’t a spy sent by the new bloke?” He jerks his head to see Finn eating my soup and he swipes the bowl. “How do we know this isn’t poisoned?!”

“Because I ate it?” I shrug. “Because unlike most people I’ve met here I actually try to be nice? It’s fun, you should try it sometime.”

John starts outright laughing, leaving us all giving him funny looks. “You picked out a real winner, Polly! She’s just like the Americans I met during the war!”

Lord, what have I gotten myself into?

[so-long-soldier-writes]

the dog

kai hates the family dog.

warnings: physical & emotional child abuse (including small mention of abortion), dog bite, blood, gore, death of an animal / pet

word count: 5.8k (this was supposed to >1k 💀)

a/n: in no way do i condone animal abuse at all, but this is an idea that came to me about kai’s abusive childhood & development into a sociopath. two things inspired this work. (1) a post that said he must’ve had small killings before eradicating most of his immediate family. and (2) comparing him to michael langdon (ahs), who also killed little things before mass murdering. that being said, here is the (very dark) fic, below the cut

Growing up, Kai hated the family dog. It was brown and white with a stubby nose and an intense glare. It was rather tall, and used its feet to play with the kids. It would be sweet to them, but produced a low growl to people it didn’t like. 

It’s a Boxer, his dad had said upon bringing the dog home, bred to hunt boars, and very protective of their family. 

His siblings, of course, immediately began to fawn over it. Like they needed another friend. And now his parents had another thing to take care of, as if eight kids weren’t enough. 

Kai didn’t always hate the dog, though. In the first few weeks of it being there, he tried to engage with it like his family did. He’d give it attention, and pets, and every once in a while, a snack in the kitchen. Fat from pieces of meat he was cooking would go to the dog instead of the trashcan. It would sometimes eat the ends of fruits and vegetables, too. They got along well. 

Until they didn’t. 

One day, Kai had come downstairs to cook dinner as he did multiple nights a week. It was one of his only freedoms, and something he loved doing. The dog heard him in there and came over, little tail wagging. 

“Hey, Bandit,” he acknowledged, earning more wags. 

Of course his siblings named the dog Bandit. Of all the names to pick from, the most common sounded appealing. 

After an eye roll to himself, he got to work. Bandit watched as he got out the knife and cutting board, plus the pan and all the ingredients he needed. Kai then picked up a carrot to cut, but hesitated first. No one else is in the kitchen; no one is watching. With a deep breath, he undoes the velcro on his glove, really not wanting to cook with it on. One glove is off and he’s peeling back the velcro on the other, when Bandit suddenly goes insane. He’s barking and lunging at Kai, nipping at his pants’ leg. He can feel nicks to his skin a few times, and quickly moves away. Bandit only follows. With a glance to the aggressive dog, then back to his workspace, he grabs the glove. In one swift motion, he puts it back on, and then the dog stops entirely. It walks a few feet away, sits, and then stares at Kai. 

“Umm…”

What had triggered the dog to attack? Full of confusion, Kai tried again. He undid the velcro and started to pull, but only got it halfway off before Bandit was back at his heels. A little terrified, the boy climbed onto the counter to get out of his reach. 

“Okay, okay,” he panted, out of breath from the scrambling. He secured both gloves back on his hands, then slowly lifted himself off the counter. Trying to avoid the dog’s gaze, he turned back to the carrot, cutting it into small pieces. Only a couple seconds later, he felt a bump on his knee. Looking down, Bandit was there. The dog bumped him again. Kai gently took a carrot end and brought it to the dog’s mouth. Tail wagging, he ate it immediately, then went back to begging. 

That was the first incident. 

If the gloves - or lack thereof - were the only thing that triggered the dog, Kai could live with that. But as time went on, the dog got worse. Eventually, there were only so many things he could do without enraging it. If Kai got too close to any of his siblings, Bandit would step in between them and growl. If he made any sudden movements, he’d lunge in response. And at night, if up for too long, the dog would herd him up to his room. If he’d resist, he’d snap. In two months’ time, Kai’s arms and legs became covered in little bites and scratches from Bandit. 

A few times, Kai would bring it up. 

“Dad?”

Joshua Parker, a few feet away, ignored him.

“Dad?” Silence. “Dad?”

“What?” He finally answered, tone bitter. 

“The dog bites. I just want you to know.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“It’s bitten me several times.” Kai rolled up his sleeve to show his arm: red, littered with scars. 

“Doesn’t bite anyone else. That means you’ve been out of line.”

“What? What do you mean?”

His dad didn’t answer, and turned back to his youngest instead, “What were you saying, Lizzie?”

“Can Joey and I take Bandit on a walk?” She said in her broken English. The kid’s only five. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Just stay on the trail and keep him close.”

“Thank you, daddy!” 

The man faced Kai again, “don’t ever talk bad about the dog in front of the kids again. They don’t need to hear your false accusations of it being aggressive again. If you would obey, it wouldn’t have the need to correct.”

“Fine, but Dad-”

“What?!”

“You just admitted it only bites me, so why? Why me?”

“This breed of dog is meant to protect. And as long as you’re around, my family is in danger. I can’t watch you twenty-four seven, so the dog is their guardian for when I’m unable to be there. And like I said, it only bites when you act up.”

“But yesterday, I was talking to Jo and it bit me. And we were only talking about fucking coffee!”

“First, don’t use that language with me. Second, if it bit, you were standing too close. The dog is to protect Jo just as much as the rest of your siblings. So if you’re getting bit, you need to step back. Is that clear?”

“This is bullshit,” Kai muttered without thinking twice. He clamped a hand over his mouth but it was too late. 

Not half a second later, his dad’s hand connected with his face. The sound echoed through the Parker house, but it wouldn’t alarm anyone. It wasn’t unusual to hear. 

“Go to your room, I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day.”

After the altercation, Kai didn’t leave his room for two whole days. He didn’t want to see his dad or his siblings, and certainly not the dog. Downstairs, he could hear the commotion of the youngest playing with the dog, rough-housing, squeaking toys, and giving him a headache. If he had magic, he’d immediately silence himself in the room to block it out, but there wasn’t even anything he could siphon. Not like he’d know the spell, anyway. So, he sat on his bed, twiddled with his pager, and munched on the single bag of pork rinds he’d gotten from the last time he got out of the house. 

At seven on the dot, there was a knock on his door. 

“Malachai, you need to eat something.” The soft voice of his mom carried under the doorway. Every time he got sent to his room, his mom came up at seven in the morning and four in the evening to bring him food. Dad hated it when she did it, saying he needed to learn to behave and that she’s rewarding him, but he loved her too much to correct her on it. 

“No.”

“Sweetie, please.”

“Go away.”

She didn’t, and lingered at his closed door instead. “You know he loves you, don’t you? He only wants to protect you.”

Kai bit his tongue to not reply, bullshit, which is the word that, this time, got him locked up. 

“We both love you,” she continued, “and you need to eat something so you don’t wither away.” There was a pause, “I missed your cooking last night. You always make such good meals, and it takes such a weight off my shoulders.”

“Madeline,” The sharp voice of his dad came in, “leave him alone. He’s serving punishment.”

“He needs to eat, honey.”

“He’ll be fine for a day. If he’s hungry enough, he’ll start to behave better.”

Kai heard his mom swallow hard, then both his parents’ footsteps retreated. 

All day, he didn’t leave, and no one else came. Technically, he was allowed to leave at noon, but cringed at the thought of seeing his dad again. So, at four, his mom was back. 

“Malachai, you need to come out at some point.” She always called him by his full name, never just Kai. As if she were proud of her name selection. When he didn’t answer, she changed her approach. “Dad said Bandit bit you? Let me in, let me check on the wound.”

“I’m fine.”

“Baby-”

“He’ll come out when he’s ready, Madeline. Come on, Lizzie’s asking for you.”

In reality, he was not fine. His stomach panged with hunger and his body shook from a lack of nutrients. The numerous nips and cuts on his arm and legs stung. Of course, the pain was nothing compared to what he felt when his dad was the one inflicting it, but it still hurt. 

Several times, he considered grabbing the food left at his door, but he knew better. His mom may have good intentions in leaving it there, but if his dad knows he ate it, he’ll take it as submission. And as much as he just wants the man to accept him, the two terms are not interchangeable. 

The following day at noon, Kai couldn't take it anymore. He had actually slept through his mom’s seven o’clock visit, but around ten, the hunger made him nauseous. So as soon as most of the noise cleared out of the first floor, he slowly crept out and down the stairs. It was a Sunday, so his family was out on their weekly day trip, and as it seems, Bandit went with them. For the first time in weeks, Kai felt comfortable enough to take off his gloves to cook a small meal for himself. He then ate it in complete silence at the kitchen table, no thoughts crowded in his mind. 

From this day forward, life went back to normal. Well, as normal as the coven would ever get. 

Kai would stay a good six feet away from his siblings at all times. If they came closer to him, Bandit would still stand between them. Somehow the dog could recognize when the kids came close to Kai versus Kai going up to the kids. Like his dad said, the dog never bit them, only the eldest boy. The “bad one”. Oh well. He’s been called worse. 

Additionally, he went back to cooking on his days of the week. He’d keep his gloves on the whole time, and Bandit would stay by his feet, waiting for handouts. Though, one time, Jo was digging in the pantry as he was cutting the ends of green beans. He gave a couple to the dog, and his twin whipped around at the chewing noise. 

“Don’t feed the dog, you’ll make him fat.”

“I feed him all the time.”

“Well don’t.”

“He’s not fat, he’s fine. He gets enough exercise with all these kids around here.”

“If you don’t stop, I’ll tell Dad.”

Kai stopped feeding the dog. Bandit would still come to his side, poke him with his nose, but he wouldn’t feed him. Their tiny sliver of relationship was gone. 

Despite obeying what the dog wanted him to do, Kai still got bit at times. It was like there were always new rules for him to follow, but he didn’t know the rules until he got the correction from breaking them. The most recent happened when Kai had accidentally dropped a metal bowl while Lizzie was studying at the table. The bowl had slipped through his gloved fingers and clattered to the ground. Lizzie cried out at the sudden sound, yelling at Kai for disrupting her focus. Apologies spilled from his mouth, but it didn’t stop Bandit from nipping his ankle. He jumped, and at the same time, his Dad came barreling down the stairs.

“What did you do?!”

“Nothing! I accidentally dropped a bowl. It slipped. I’m sorry.”

“Did you touch her?”

“No! I promise!”

“What happened, Lizzie?”

“Loud sound,” the girl replies in between sniffs. Thank god the child told the truth.

“Go,” Dad points for Kai to go to his room.

He nods and listens immediately. If Lizzie had said anything else, his punishment would’ve been much worse. 

Another instance was when Kai was at the kitchen table, reading the book assigned to him by his mom for homeschool - he was pulled out of school two years ago after an incident (which wasn’t entirely his fault) - and his siblings were around him, studying, doing their homework for school. He was at one head; Jo was at the other, and their four younger ones occupied the other chairs. Bandit was underneath the table, eyes trained on Kai’s barely exposed ankle. He knew the dog was watching, so he was very careful to not move. 

It’s rare that their parents had all the kids together at the table. Kai often didn’t even eat with the rest, so it was always hair-raising to have to co-exist with them in that manner. Anxiety flooded his body with the fear of messing up. If he moved to flip the page, Bandit might sense the movement. If the air conditioning kicked on one more time and he shivered. If he cleared his throat and a sibling flinched. Thinking of all the possibilities made his mind cloudy, and he forgot to pay attention to his body in the current state. His leg, bouncing up and down, heel tapping on the hardwood floor. 

“Kai-” Jo called. He didn’t hear her. “You’re making too much noise, I can’t think.” She snapped her fingers in an attempt to get his attention. Nothing. “Bandit.”

Instantly, Bandit lunged forward and bit his ankle. 

“Shit!” Kai awakened from a trance to get away. He scanned his siblings’ faces as he came back to reality. Two staring at him wide-eyed. Two others holding back a laugh from the curse word. Jo, glaring disapprovingly. “I’m sorry.”

“Be quieter, or I’ll call for Dad.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

The girl said nothing in response, then turned the page in her book. 

There was also the incident of the left-out grimoire. The book had been abandoned on the kitchen counter, perhaps by Jo, one day that Kai was left home alone. Immediately, he opened it to read. These books were kept away from him, lock and key, preventing any access to magic. Not like he’d be able to perform a spell, anyway. When he touched it, there wasn’t even magic to siphon. Sometimes, grimoires kept a little magic inside of them, but this one seemed to be sucked dry. Maybe that’s why it was left there. Still, magic was magic, and Kai was desperate. He flipped the pages one after another, admiring the thin paper adorned in inked spells and potions. Stories accompanied some pages, as well as annotations from the witch who wrote it. 

After a minute, though, Kai realized the owner would be back for the book. He probably only had a few seconds left with it. Taking a napkin and pen from his pocket, Kai wrote down some of the short spells he found, with the intention to try them if he were to ever get magic. He collected about five different ones until a low growl came from behind him. 

Shit, the dog, he thought, swallowing hard. How does it know?

“Hey, B.” Trying to stay calm, he turned around. Bandit was crouched down in an attack position he had become rather familiar with, and his lips were curled in a snarl. “I’m just leaving, okay?” He moved to the left, shuffling away, but his gaze followed. 

Then, because of course, he could hear Jo yelling from outside, and he knew she’d be inside in a moment. This was not the situation to be caught by his sister. With a deep breath, he makes a desperate decision: run. He ran past Bandit, making a mad dash for the stairs. The dog chased him all the way up until he escaped behind the safety of his door. He hadn’t bit him this time, but the fear was all the same. Not to mention the threat of Jo finding him with her grimoire, even if the magic was absent from it. The hit he’d surely receive from his dad if she caught him; the tense jaw of his mom as she would watch it all happen. Fear kept Kai in his room for the rest of the night that day. When his mom came to the door at four, he lied and said he was tired from homework. To be fair, Beowulf did take a lot of his energy. 

◇◇◇◇

A year later, Kai had one final incident with the dog that brought him over the edge. He had had encounters with it that continuously frustrated him, but none had made him as scared and angry as this one, and it had finally caused him to snap. 

Over time, Bandit had gone from watching, to herding, to always eyeing him, never letting Kai leave his sight if he were nearby. It had been this way for a couple of months now, and he was extremely careful not to trigger the dog’s bite reaction. Though the Parker house had recently gotten ten times more chaotic than it had been, and everyone was feeling it. 

His mom had recently given birth to twins. The family knew she was pregnant, but they had never disclosed this particular detail to Kai. Two sets of twins in the coven couldn’t mean anything good, and the eldest was growing increasingly suspicious of his dad’s intentions. 

One day, Kai had come downstairs that evening to start preparing dinner. It was around four, primetime for sibling chaos, because the twins were just waking up from their midday nap. The middle four had been outside with Bandit all afternoon, and Jo just came home from work. Their dad was arriving back from a coven meeting, which sometimes took place during the day rather than at night, and their mom was exhausted from juggling six kids for several hours. Kai, of course, was in his room the whole time, practically threatened if he dared to come out at all. He was, however, expected to come down to cook. That’s how he found himself amidst the crazy on that particular day. 

As soon as he came downstairs, the four pre-teens came barreling through the front door, Bandit on their heels, giving him barely any time to get out of the way. Jo and his dad came through the side. Their dad yelled for everyone to stop running, but his words were drowned out from the noise. The twins, in their crawling months, began to cry as sounds piled on top of each other. Their mom covered her ears and shrieks, tired of it all. Kai tried to stay close to the wall on his way to the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was to be in the center of all the mess. However, fate and fuckery had other plans for him. 

Joey ran through the hallway just as Kai was crossing through, still attempting to be quiet. His little brother didn’t know he was there and ran straight into him. In a sick and twisted domino effect, Kai lost his balance in that moment and tripped over Luke, the seven month old scrambling across the hardwood floor. He had reached his hands out to the nearby chair to stabilize himself, but somehow eight-year old Sarah ended up there instead. His hands connected to Sarah’s shoulder, and instantly, she cried out in pain. Trapped between Kai and the actual chair, Sarah couldn’t move. Kai couldn’t get up with Luke still in the way, and because he had luck just pouring out of him, he had forgotten his gloves upstairs that day. His sister continued to cry, tears pouring from her eyes, as he siphoned from her. Magic left her body quickly, making her weak. Though through the chaos, he can’t find his balance. 

After nearly a minute of everyone being frozen in fear, Bandit was the first to act. The dog lunged at Kai, somehow missing both of the younger children, and sunk his teeth into his arm. He shook his head ruthlessly, breaking the siphon, but still didn’t let go. He then dragged Kai away from the kids, hurting Luke in the process, but separating them all. It wasn’t until Sarah stopped screaming that Bandit let go. 

Silence. It was absolutely silent for a whole minute as everyone comprehended what just happened. Then, outrage.

Luke began to cry. Sarah’s eyes began to water, again. Bandit snarled a warning, but Kai wasn’t getting up anytime soon. That was, until his dad grabbed him by the unbitten arm and pulled him to his feet. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled, two inches from his face, “you hurt her! Where the fuck are your gloves? Why can’t you follow the one simple rule we give you?! You goddamn abomination of a child can’t do one thing right!”

“Joshua,” his mom said gently. Kai wondered if she’d tell him to ease up, but he doubts it. “Careful, you’re scaring the babies.”

His dad looked up to find all seven other of his children staring at him, wide-eyed. For a moment, horror took over his face. “Stand up,” he ordered Kai. Terrified, he obeyed. His arm went limp at his side, gushing blood. A piece of skin hung loose, torn from his body. His dad spared one glance at the injury, went into the kitchen, and threw an ice pack and a paper towel at him. “Clean yourself up with this and follow me.”

Shaking with fear, Kai ducked his head and listened. 

The minute his bedroom door was shut and his dad placed a silencing spell over the room, the madness continued. 

“You fucking waste of space,” he spat. “Fucking abomination of a child. Can’t make his own magic and has to steal it from others. In a process which hurts his family.”

Being brave for a moment, Kai defended, “it wouldn’t hurt so bad if I didn’t have to steal it.”

“You don’t fucking get to speak. In fact, don’t talk to me at all until I say that you can.” His dad goes to his bed where his gloves are, “you’re supposed to be wearing these. You wear these for a very good reason: so that shit like that doesn’t happen. I’d think you’d know that by now.”

“I don’t like to wear them when cooking! They’re the only pair I have and they get dirty, and it’s gross.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me! I’m your father and I tell you when to speak!”

“I’m sorry.”

Immediately, the man slapped Kai across the face. “Do you choose to not listen, or are you so fucking stupid that you constantly defy my orders?”

This time, Kai stayed quiet.

“Finally! You can listen to one itty-bitty thing I tell you! Now, shut the fuck up, while I explain to you how bad this is.” He squared the boy up as if planning where to hit next. Kai knew that was exactly what he was doing. “You siphoned your sister. You drained her body; you made her cry, and collapse in pain. And you hurt Luke. He’s a baby.” Then he laughed. “I should’ve seen this coming - of course you’d try to hurt Luke! You think we’re taking this leadership from you, don’t you? If your mom and I have more twins, you won’t take over this coven, right?” His voice mocked Kai’s. “Guess what? Maybe your mom and I just like having kids. Maybe we’re hoping that if we have enough good kids, it’ll cancel out the bad one. Maybe the coven will forgive us for raising you, instead of aborting you, or killing you as a baby. Which is what we should’ve done. But noooo, your Aunt Maisie thought you’d grow up and mellow out. Thanks, Maisie, now we all have to live with you, and look at you. We, as a coven, have to deal with a magic-stealing siphon on our hands. And of all the bloodlines in the coven, it just had to be mine! You,” he prodded a finger in Kai’s chest, “are a freak. You’re worthless.” He pushed the boy’s shoulders. “Useless to the coven, to this family,” he pinned him up to the wall, “to the world.” Finally, he gave up his hold. “But if you die now, I look even more like the weak link in my family. And I am NOT the weak one. I was a perfect son, a perfect brother. Had perfect grades, a girlfriend that my parents respected, and obeyed every rule set before me. When I was twenty-two, I performed as I was told, and then went on to lead this coven. At twenty-six, me and that same girlfriend began to raise a family. And somehow, it went so, so wrong, because we had you. You fucking failure.” By the end of his rant, he had cornered Kai back up into the wall. He glared at his injured arm, still dripping with blood, then again at his son’s face. “Don’t come down for the rest of the night. And clean that up, too. You’re still going to make dinner tomorrow, and I don’t want your blood in my food.” Then, he spat in his son’s open wound and left the room. 

Kai stayed in the corner for hours after that. He was too terrified to move; too disgusted with himself, too broken. Eventually, the bleeding eased up, leaving a stain on the carpet. He sank to his knees and cried. 

Sometime around midnight, the sadness turned to rage. Anger towards his father, hatred towards his coven, repulsion to himself. Slowly, he rose to his feet and inspected the wound. It was still open, but with some antiseptic and bandages lying around his room, he was able to clean and wrap it up. He had stolen the materials from under the sink months before, and now they were coming in handy. With a little of the magic he had accidentally siphoned, he was also able to make a lot of the pain and infection go down, but he was careful not to use too much. While performing the spell, his stomach grumbled. He debated fighting the hunger, but then a dizziness came too and he knew he needed something in his system after the dog bite. 

Hesitantly, Kai left his room for a snack, just something enough to satisfy his body. In the kitchen, he dug one-handedly through the pantry, pulling out crackers, as well as an apple from the counter’s fruit basket. He was in the middle of filling a glass of orange juice when his blood suddenly ran cold. Something was wrong. A low growl came from the darkness, raising every hair on his body. Bandit slowly came into view, crouched low, teeth bared. 

This time, though, the dog had come at a bad time. Kai wasn’t in the mood for cowering. He stared the dog down while grabbing a knife from the drawer. Bandit crawled closer, not surrendering. He was three feet away, and Kai’s heart was racing. His mind was in a debate: run, or fight? In a split-second, he made up his mind. As soon as he muttered a quick silencing spell with the magic still flowing in his blood, Bandit charged. The dog went for his thigh, jumping up with its mouth open, but Kai was ready. Seeing a clear shot, he stabbed the knife into the dog’s shoulder. It yelped, but the sound was drowned out by the spell. The dog wasn’t giving up so soon, though. It made another lunge for Kai, but he stabbed again. This time, through the other shoulder. Finally, Bandit collapsed. He was breathing heavily, flailing what muscles he still could, as Kai stabbed again and again until he was no longer moving. Soon, he knew the dog was dead. 

When Kai came to, what he did hit him. There was blood everywhere in the kitchen and on himself, already staining. Kai swallowed hard and thought up a quick plan. He dragged the dog out the door to the edge of the woods and left it for the crows. Then, he went back inside and deep cleaned for hours until the sun began to rise. Around the time Jo would be waking up for work, he went back upstairs, taking a certain bag with him. The bag was full of the dog’s blood that he had cleaned off the knife and other surfaces. He hid it in his closest, then fell fast asleep. 

The next morning brought a different kind of chaos. When the kids woke up and couldn’t find Bandit anywhere, they spent hours crying. Their dad, who assured them the dog was surely okay, made a deal with them to spend the day inside, and then they’ll look for their missing dog after work. So that’s what they did. Unfortunately, this deal led to them waking up Kai, because no one is capable of sleeping through the sounds of six screaming children, and when he remembered what he did the previous night, he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad. Life kicks me in the ass every day and you idiots can’t deal with one day inside??

Kai then wondered to himself who he thought was going to find the body outside, and made bets with himself who’d cry hardest. 

At two, his mom came to the door unexpectedly, knocking softly. “Malachai?”

“What?” He replied flatly, not in the mood.

“So, um, I know the kids are being loud today, but Bandit’s gone missing so Dad wants them to stay inside just in case she’s hurt somewhere.”

“Okay.”

“At four, when he gets home, he’s going to take them out to go look for her. And he wanted me to let you know that the house will be empty at that time so that you can cook while they’re all out, and we can avoid another… incident.”

“Whatever.”

“Okay, um, good. I love you, Malachai.”

Kai didn’t answer. 

Two hours later, the house erupts with sound when Jo and their dad return home. The commotion is even worse than yesterday because they’ve been inside all day, but at least they leave quickly, wanting to get out. In thirty minutes’ time, it’s the most silent it’s been for hours. Kai waited five minutes to be sure no one was coming back in, and then he began to act on his secret revenge. 

The meal he was planning was a simple crockpot dinner. Beef, potatoes, carrots, onions, and a broth were the only things needed. Feeds a lot of people and makes it easy to slip in secret ingredients. Everything was out in front of him as he chopped them up and put them in the pot. Something sinister inside him laughed; he felt like a witch performing dark magic, like those ones you read about in fairy tales. Adding different things to a pot, most of them edible, but something else that’s not supposed to be there. Kai glanced at the bag of blood beside him. That’s it. That’s the dark magic. 

I don’t want your blood in my food, his dad said the night before. 

“Okay,” Kai mutters to himself, “it won’t be my blood in your food.”

He dumped the animal blood over top of the rest of the ingredients, and watched how the redness seeped into them, staining them. He dragged a finger through the uncooked stew, stirring it, then bringing it to his tongue. The taste of raw meat and fresh blood sent a tingle down his spine, making him feel oddly powerful. Then, he put the lid on top of the pot and pushed the ‘on’ button. Only a few hours until he can taste it cooked.

Kai buried the bag in the bottom of the trashcan just in time for Joey to come racing through the front door. 

“Kai!” He cried, “Bandit’s dead! He’s dead! The crows are eating him outside! It looks like he got hit by a car, daddy says! Sarah found him on the side of the road by the woods!”

Kai tried his best to fake emotion, but for some reason, found it extremely difficult. “That’s horrible. Who would hit and run a dog?” 

“I don’t know, but I’m sad!” His brother was a snotty, blubbering mess. The child just stood in front of him, crying uncontrollably. “Can I have a hug?”

“I don’t think your dad would like that very much.”

That only made Joey cry harder. Thankfully, Jo came bursting through the door seconds later. “Joey, come here, sweetheart, it’s okay! It’s going to be okay!”

“I’m sad, Josie! How will I go on living?!” 

Josette walked the boy away from Kai so they could both cry, but not before she glared at him for standing so close to the boy. He tried to gesture that Joey had walked up to him, but she just rolled her eyes. 

One-by-one, the family entered through the front door, all weeping miserably at the loss of their dog. The only one to look at Kai - who was still trying to find an emotion to share - was his dad, who looked equally upset and fearful, as if he knew Kai had something to do with it, but was too afraid to ask. 

The rest of the night was uncomfortably quiet for a family of ten. The only sounds to be heard for hours were quiet sniffles and the occasional sob. When dinner rolled around, there was no arguing about where to sit, nor any he-said-she-said about anything that happened during the day, it was just silent. At one moment, their mom cleared her throat to thank their eldest for dinner. 

“Stew is the perfect dish for mourning,” she said. It made the hairs on the backs of everyone’s necks stand up, Kai’s included. 

Nonetheless, he replied, “my thoughts exactly.”

No one seemed to pay mind to the fact that he was already done preparing the meal when Joey had brought the news, or if they thought it, they didn’t bring it up. In fact, no one ever really discussed the night again afterwards. 

As for Joshua, who, by the look in his eyes, suspected Kai was guilty, he never did ask if Kai took part in ending the dog’s life. The topic went cold after it happened, never to be brought up either. The family never got a new dog, and his dad was always lighter on his threats to Kai after that. He still hurt the boy, physically and emotionally, but some part of him knew he had crossed a line that night. Kai, on the other hand, knew he, himself, had crossed some kind of line, too. He knew it the minute he stood in front of his brother and tried to form an emotion to relate to the sad boy, but came up with nothing. Something inside him had been broken, or altered, and it was never coming back. 

[bumblebeerror]

I’m thinking tonight about how I ate food as a kid.

When I was three, my three front teeth rotted out and I had to have them removed. This wasn’t really my fault, it was more the fault of my genetics and my house’s water not having fluoride in it.

I ate everything from age three until age like, 12, almost a decade, without my top front incisors. (The flat square teeth at the front of your mouth)

To give you an idea of how much harder it is to eat like that, you use your incisors to eat everything, and especially when you’re trying to separate a piece from a whole. I had trouble with everything from apples to sandwiches, cooked meat and raw carrots, and everything else you can think of.

I solved this problem pretty well for a small child! I simply turned my head a little and used my one remaining top front tooth, my canines, and my bottom incisors instead. This meant that I ate apples and corn on the cob and pulled bites from deli sandwiches and ripped tough meat all on the side of my mouth, instead of doing that cutting and chewing where it was supposed to be done. It was messy, it meant I got any juice or condiment or whatever all over my cheek, in my hair, on my clothes. I was scolded and teased for being sloppy when I ate a lot.

Too often, now that I think about it. I had to teach myself how to eat food again. I had to figure out all by myself at the age of 3 how I was going to manage to eat without those very necessary teeth. I wasn’t given a denture or anything like that for my little mouth. For 9 years I had a massive gap in my front teeth, big enough that you could see inside my mouth when I smiled with my teeth together.

Mind you, I also had to go to school and eat in the cafeteria like this. Oh, and because I was ADHD and trialing drugs for that at around age 6, I had the lovely combo of the office calling me down every lunch and telling anyone who asked it was so I could take meds, and being unable to eat neatly. Mm. I don’t like to be watched when I eat now, y’know? Even if stuff doesn’t fall outta my teeth anymore.

At first, I had to have apples started for me - my dad would take the first bite and then I could use that leverage for the rest, setting my empty gums on the apple’s skin and using my bottom incisors to chip away chunks of fruit. A few years later I’d mastered how to eat an apple my way so well that I regularly crunched through one in about two minutes flat using my molars instead. (I still do eat fruits this way most of the time.)

At first, my parents cut the corn off the cob for me. Soon enough, it being one of my favorite foods, I figured out how to eat it off the cob with the side of my mouth. I’d drop a lot of it on myself, the gap in my teeth would drop corn onto the table and in my lap and on the floor.

I had to relearn how to eat every food I already knew how to.

And you know what? I have to hand it to little me. I didn’t fucking whine about this even fucking once, that I’m aware of. I fucking should have, especially about getting made fun of for it, especially because it wasn’t comfortable most of the time. Especially because I was already having sensory issues. I feel like little me is owed at least five major meltdowns for doing all that.

[str1v1ng4z3r0]

F00d l0g 29/5 2024

Breakfast 3

Pāndy pineapple energy drink (3)

Lunch 3

Pāndy pineapple energy drink (3)

Snacks 1006 (!!!! 😳😱🥵🤯)

32g carrot sticks (16)

2 rye crisp bread w/ 15g soft cheese (33)

6 oat crisp bread w/ 18g butter (506) 🤦🏻‍♀️

0.5 bread roll w/ butter and cheese (152) 😦

50g pretzel sticks (192) 🙄😒

1 banana (107) 😤🤯

Pre workout snack 3

Pândy pineapple energy drink (3)

Dinner 438

100g rice (113)

5 soy nuggets (215)

1 tbsp unsweetened ketchup (9)

1 tbsp garlic sauce (64)

95g broccoli (37)

Dessert 246

26.5g Marabou sea salt milk chocolate (144)

20g Lindt sea salt dark chocolate (102)

Total intake: 1700 (stupid stupid stupid)

Total workout: 804 (walk + treadmill)

Total net: 896

——————————

Thoughts: Well today has been a really crappy crappy day. I really could’ve done without today, please and thank you. Let me walk you through my day:

Morning: Good-ish. Not feeling hungry, but disappointed in the number on the scale.

Omw to work: Happy, excited. Good music in my ears, nice weather, ready for a day of st4rvation.

At work: Uuuuuuuaaaaagh. My coworker had to stay home with her sick child. Realized it was gonna be a crappy day. Even more of a reason to st4rve :)

All workday until 1.40: Food won’t make this day go any smoother… and it’s already so crappy it can’t really get worse.

At 1.40: OH M Y G O D I can’t do this anymore, why can’t the end of the semester just go smoothly 😭 I’m just gonna have some carrots and crisp bread to get through the rest of the day…

The rest of the work day: WOW!!! Can we have food now?? Gosh, thank you!! Let’s have some more… and more. And also, no you’re not too full, apparently there’s room even though your tummy hurts from being over full? Smart move… brilliant in fact 😒🤦🏻‍♀️

After work: Why did I eat all of that? Stupid.

5 seconds later: Should I buy candy?

1 second later: EHM NO??!! Ofc not. There’s nothing, I repeat NOTHING that is bad enough to ruin your body for. Ruining your body will not help making your life easier… it will make it worse. Let’s go to the gym instead.

After my workout: But my bf really craved salty chocolate yesterday and he totally deserves it. I’m gonna buy some… but I should buy the bite size so I don’t have to have any.

At the store: F UUUUUU CK!! There isn’t any bite side sea salt chocolate 😞 Had to get one 200g milk chocolate with sea salt and one 100g dark chocolate with sea salt. But I’m not gonna have that much myself.

Dinner time: Managed to eat less than planned. Yay!!

After dinner: put like 2-3 times more chocolate in his bowl and didn’t have more than I’d counted for in my app.

Wow… today was so not my day. Tomorrow is gonna be so much better *manifesting* 🙏🏼

[music-shelter-wilderness]

Soup Cure

I always find myself in the kitchen when you’re in the hospital.

At this point it's all onions and garlic—aromatic but thin, coming to a boil as I pour in the stock. I close my eyes and take in the steam. I let it go too long, until the whole kitchen smells the same unfinished way.

In my defense, I’m a good baker. I have too much patience. I spend it on watching bread rise. I sit on the kitchen floor and turn on the oven light and watch the loaf take its first breaths, no longer just water and flour but something alive. The egg wash browns and shines. The salt melts. It grows all on its own. It tastes as good as it looks.

I’m a horrible cook by comparison. There’s a lot of reasons—I’m not flexible enough to throw the recipe away. My mother is a good cook, but she never taught me. I feel like I’m running out of time from the moment I turn the heat on, yet it’s raw when I cut inside.

I can’t imagine anyone would trust me with a grill.

If it needs time in the oven, that I can do. I can leave well enough alone. I can be well alone.

I say that like I didn’t forget the sugar in a cheesecake. I stir the soup for the third time in two minutes and start talking to myself. My friends all tried the damn thing before it dawned on me, and we laughed, but most of it ended up in the trash rather than in our mouths. I scolded myself for my carelessness, for squandering a child with so much potential. I rarely make the same mistake twice, but I always forget something.

I must have forgotten to ask how you were, to remind you to eat dinner, to call me if you needed anything. I know you have a hard time asking for help.

I regret the dark jokes—telling you that NSAIDs are a painful way to go. You must have gotten ideas of valiant suffering. For what sins, I can’t imagine. It wasn’t your fault.

I cut the carrots and the chicken into messy cubes, but they never make it in the pot. They never make it back into the fridge. They rot on the counter, forgotten. Your mother never taught you how to cook.

I sit down on the sofa and sip at the broth I made. It’s under-seasoned, but I’m not sure what it lacks. Oregano? Maybe some paprika could round it out. I’m trying to sound smart. I don’t know what half of these things really taste like on their own. It comes with experience I don’t yet have.

Maybe by the time we’re thirty I’ll have figured out how to season a chicken soup. I can feed it to you when you get a cold, propped up in bed and complaining to your heart’s content. You’ll remind me that you don’t like onions, and I’ll figure out how to make it taste good regardless.

What will they give you for the pain instead, in my absence, now that paracetamol makes you sick?

Oh, right. They never offer you anything for the pain—they can’t even be bothered to keep your belly full.

I rarely have the energy to do dishes right away. Hot water makes me feel dizzy, and I already feel dizzy. Everything goes straight in the sink to soak while I lay on the floor and count the number of kernels in the shitty popcorn ceiling. I think about watching movies with you. I think about laughing and talking right through them, more content in your company than with the consumption.

I think about Sausage Casserole, the cat you want to get. I think about the 3 am breakfasts you want to have. My stomach feels empty all over again.

You’ll tell me that the paramedic was hot, you just got a little silly. We’ll go back to our procedurals and update your CD collection playlist. You won’t tell me that I shouldn’t worry, because we both know you’ll be back.

By 4 am, I let myself go. The heat is all but gone, and I’ve forgotten how it tasted. The day is a blur. The nausea from my antipsychotics is wearing off, and I can put my phone away.

I’ll take stock in the morning. I resign myself to the possibility I’ll wake to a world where you never got past broth. I fix myself on the possibility that you will have added the celery in my absence.

[thinkatoryprocess]

Things re Lukas in the throuple au that I now headcanon that you can have for your fic if you want: food issues: he and his Rome could maybe have a conversation about that but I feel like the man doesn’t eat real meals ever. Like with the jar of olives (same anon from that ask). Typical Lukas behavior will be him grabbing a jar out of the fridge and then just casually munching on them or a bag of baby carrots or an entire jar of peanut butter. Or dry cereal. He doesn’t put any thought into the actual food he eats. He just consumes to consume but he’s a really good cook. He took lessons because if he’s cooking for someone else he wants the food to be the best they’ve ever had because he lives to set up an expectation and defy it. But he also has the diet of a man who grew up as a neglected child at the mercy of whatever was in the cabinets he didn’t have to cook because no one was going to feed him. His dad was suicidally depressed and Lukas was the one who found him. What if that was his only parent? His dad kills himself right after Lukas turns 18. Leaves him a fortune and a big empty house and the fancy car he died in and no one else. But also maybe his dad loved him profoundly? Maybe he held on exactly as long as he could and not one second longer.

Yeah, I like this. Lukas growing up all weird and feral and turning out to be a very intelligent, very brutal guy who also just really wants attention and seeks it out in the strangest ways possible really works for me. If he spent a lot of time alone after a traumatic loss, that kind of thing messes you up.

So he desperately spent time trying to find company who could understand him, but he never exactly connected with anyone, or at least not for long. He's hot and he's rich but that can only get you so far if you're fucking weird and unsettling to people sometimes, specifically women who could definitely view a 6'4" dude as a threat. I think he's had better luck with men but that he's also been used by men who did not do well by him and may have worsened things.

I just think in general Lukas spends too much time alone. He puts out vibes of being a social guy, but treading the line between being genuine enough to make a connection and showing weakness as well as not outing himself as having a lot of thoughts most normal people would never voice - it's tough. He doesn't even try to open up to most people, and when he does it's usually because he loosened himself up with some drugs. He uses drugs mostly to get in touch with his emotions in a way that is less scary than approaching them sober, I think. I think with Shiv in canon he realized she had been through some shit too, so thought (in the way very high people do) that this was a good idea.

[elysianightsss]

So consider. Chef!Techno surprising Librarian!Reader at work with a homemade lunch early on in their courtship. It's a slow day and so it's far too easy to hide in some lonesome corner of the library to fool around

Chef!Techno x Librarian!Reader

Warnings: nsfw, oral sex, public sex, implied past nsfw, Techno getting angry over carrot cake.

That was the third time you ignored the rumble in your tummy as you worked, marking the book in your trolly with the correct shelf labels. You loved your job and Techno knew that you ignored your human needs to keep working. You didn’t see it as work, you saw it as doing what you loved. Though Techno understood it, he had told you off for it,

“I told you Sugar, you have to eat.” His voice mumbled as he sucked on your clit, “if you don’t, how will you have enough energy, it’s unfair on me little bookworm,” he huffs. Pressing his nose against you taking a deep breath, a groan settling in the air that had you twisting and turning in his hold.

The heat now covering your form in embarrassment, he raised an eyebrow in warning and you remembered the last time you tried to wiggle away from your man. Maybe it was a little presumptuous to call him yours but Techno always insisted. He had to be yours because you were his, “had been from the moment I set eyes on you Sugar.”

“To Kill A Mockingbird. Do you have it here?” You nodded mindlessly not even glancing at the person, your mind flooded with imagines of your Chef on his knees for you. The perfect picture.

Your shoes shuffled along the floor, they should really get some hardwood floors it would make the place look so classic, you thought as you led the person down the next few ailes, “Here.” You placed your finger on the book.

“Thankyou, Sugar.” Your head popped up and you were slammed out of your thoughts to find just the person you were thinking about in front of you. Speak of the devil.

“What are you doing here?” You blinked at him with a growing smile,

“Can’t a man come to his girlfriend’s place of work?” He smirked, an eyebrow raised. A playful gleam in his eyes had you giggling.

“Of course he can.” You shook your head.

“Plus i know you’d forget to eat so what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t put my culinary skills to use and cook a delicious lunch for you.” He grins handing you the lunchbox, you remember when he bought you this, some months ago on your third date. A metal lunchbox with the bookworm from toystory 3 on the front. You thought it was cute. You just didn’t know he was thinking about how your first child would carry it with them on their first day of school.

“Thankyou Thankyou Thankyou!” You peppered kisses along his face and jaw.

“Sugar,” you hummed your lips still pecking along his skin, “it’s quite quiet in here today.” You heard it in his voice, the suggestive tone that had so many times before encouraged you to shimmy out of your underwear and let him have his way with you anywhere he pleased.

“Tec, in here?” You asked a slight nervousness in your voice that Techno picked up on straight away. Quick to smooth it away.

“No one’s here sugar, and you’re already soaking,” he slipped his hand under your dress, it had been hot lately so you had been wearing dresses not that Techno was complaining. Fuck no. Dresses meant easy access for him. You’d be reading and he’d simply slip his hand underneath the material, Techno would have you a moaning mess in no time.

“Come on, Sugar. Remember the first time we did it in public, behind that fucking cafe.” He growled at the thought. The stupid cafe that had the audacity to claim it made the best carrot cake in town. Techno had spent a good thirty minutes tasting it and complaining about all the things he could do better. How it was too dry and the cream cheese icing was so shit he wouldn’t even rate it half a star.

He had been so frustrated the only way you managed to get his attention was to drag him outside and ‘persuade’ him to fuck you. To take all his anger out on your- ‘but I’d destroy my pretty pussy and we can’t have that sugar. How dare you suggest I’d destroy the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted!” You’d think he was joking but no he was fully serious. A scowl on his face directed at you, an accusing finger pointing in your direction. You’d really done it this time.

“I’ll tell you everyday if I have to, she really is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” He sighed the type of lovesick sigh you’d hear from Cinderella after she met her Prince Charming. Your hand clasped over your mouth to stop your laugh, oh, moan escaping you. Sometimes you forget how pussydrunk your chef gets, it’s so baffling that this 6’2, beefy, fucking gorgeous man gets so delirious over you your cunt.

But he does, letting his tongue glide over you, in and out of you until your squirming against the stacks of books, some dust clearly missed, puffing into the air when your head hit against a particularly old book.

He has this primal need to always touch you, he’s come to terms with it now. Your just so perfect, he can’t keep his hands to himself. Why should he when your his to touch. He nods to his own thoughts his tongue slipping down a little, it had you keening. Your hips thrusting forward just as your hand slipped into his hair.

Pleasefuckyesohfuckyesyesyes!

You had completely given up on being quiet, you simply can’t with him. The lunchbox discarded on your book trolly, as you came on Techno’s tongue back arching into the air. Techno took everything you gave him, and maybe a little more, slurping it down. Lapping up ever drop, not letting any of it go to waste.

“Sweeter than sugar.” He purred, standing to his full height above you. “Now,” you closed your eyes feeling the swollen tip of his cock pressing against you, “let’s see how loud I can get you to scream my name.”

Tags:

@victory-is-here

@streamer-vulpecula

@cherryblossomdelusion

@angelicadiabolus

[secretobsessionstuff]

ok I'm not sure if you're taking promt requests, but I have one here: sick!dakota, inspired by something that happened to me a while back. I had to go for a formal event, and I ate something Fancy there that didn't settle right. I felt burpy, bloated and sick all night, and had to throw up. thankfully I got home without incident, but I did get sick with a stomach bug like right after. if you don't want to take the prompt, that's fine. have a nice day, brilliant author!

Thanks for the great request! And for making me blush with that compliment. I changed the prompt just a little because of course I didn't want Dakota to go home without incident ;)

Please excuse the ridiculous reference to an old meme that I slipped in this fic. I couldn’t help it. 

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

As a child, Dakota never thought he’d have enough money to give to charity, let alone donate enough to partake in a fundraising gala. Even that word Gala felt like an ill-fitting suit, much like the one he wore at that very moment. At a Gala. That he’d been invited to. He was overwhelmed by the entire affair. 

That night’s special event was being hosted by the Canadian Academy of Sport and Exercise Medicine—an organizing that Dakota supported as soon as he got a disposable income. 

Donating was not something that his family could afford to do, at least not consistently. Every Christmas, Dakota used to ask his dad for a five-dollar bill to give to the bell ringers. Nine times out of ten, he was given a loonie. Still, Dakota happily dropped the coin in the collection bin and wished the stranger a merry Christmas. 

The suit that Dakota now wore should have reflected how far he had come in terms of money. He had worked hard as a teenager to afford to go to university. He worked hard as an adult to get to this point of financial security. He wasn’t rich by any means (not by a long shot), but he had enough to justify his presence at this fundraiser. He definitely had enough money to buy a better suit than the one he wore, but that was a task that he’d been putting off. 

The jacket’s sleeves were tight around his arms and the fabric of the pants pinched awkwardly around his hips. The buttons on his shirt were working overtime to keep his belly from bulging out, but that might have been because he was bloated after eating the cream of vegetable soup. He’d certainly be needing a better suit for his wedding. For now, his old suit would have to do. 

Blair, of course, looked stunning in her stormy blue floor-length chiffon evening dress with lace sequins. None of those fancy words belonged to Dakota. That was how she described it to him. All he had been capable of saying was a string of incoherent babbling as she emerged from their bedroom that evening. Stormy apparently meant a greyish-blue and the rest of those words must have meant so fucking hot you don’t even know. That was Dakota’s apt description after getting over his momentary shock. 

Dakota paid more attention to Blair than the many, many speeches that were given throughout the night. Halfway through the event and he was already sick of hearing the phrase “We thank you for your contribution”, despite being one of those contributors. 

Eventually, even his fiancée couldn’t hold his attention, not with the way his stomach ached. So maybe it wasn’t just the speeches that were making him sick. His belly churned and whined, trying to digest the first meal he’d given it that night. The soup had been creamy, but not nauseatingly thick. It was a pale orange with chunks of broccoli and carrots drowning in the velvety broth. 

He didn’t understand why he got so nauseous all of a sudden. It was like the soup kept boiling inside him. The event took a while to start, so Dakota should have been starving but he was far from it. That first plate was enough to make him full. He didn’t want to imagine the other courses that were on their way. He could smell shrimp, and steak, and chocolate waiting their turns. 

“I’m a registered dietitian,” Blair finished saying to a man sitting at their table. There was eight people all seated in a circle, perfect for networking and gossiping. 

“And what about your husband?” asked the woman who was next to the man. They were an older couple and so soft spoken that Dakota didn’t look up to realize that he was now a part of the conversation. 

“Oh, he’s actually still my fiancé,” Blair said with a smile. She put her hand on his arm to get his attention. “Dakota?” 

“Yes?” He looked up, tearing his eyes away from the empty soup bowl. 

“The Dhillons are asking about your job,” she said, gesturing to the couple. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Dakota tugged at the collar of his jacket. It did not have any give and was therefore terrible for fidgeting. All his fiddling did was remind him how uncomfortable he was. He cleared his throat. “I’m in sports rehabilitation.” 

“No wonder you’re both supporters,” Mr. Dhillon said approvingly. He nodded at the two of them “Dakota, was it? How did you get involved with CASEM?” he asked, using the organization’s acronym. 

Dakota began giving his answer with less enthusiasm that he would have liked. His voice sounded awkward and strained to his own ears. More than once, he had to interrupt himself to swallow a burp. His voice got deeper with each suppressed belch, as did the ache in his middle. The more he spoke, the more air he swallowed, and the more bloated he got. 

It was after Mr. Dhillon’s second question, that Dakota failed to keep a burp from bursting from his mouth. It was loud and very wet. “Excuse me,” he quickly mumbled with a napkin pressed against his lips. He wiped the corners of his mouth, feeling his face grow warm. The other people at the table, all in the middle of their own conversations, spared surprised glances at him. After that outburst, he hurried up his reply and looked down at his lap. The tips of his ears were on fire. 

In fact everything about him was on fire. He was hot and icky. Yes, icky was the only way he could describe the sensations in his body. Icky with an inkling of bleh. 

Thankfully, Blair took up the next question. She gave him a curious look before answering the nice couple. 

Dakota wished he could turn invisible. Not only was he blushing, but he desperately wanted to rub his gurgling stomach. It was very unsettled for some ungodly reason. Dakota felt like a proper sac of poop, squeezed into his too-tight suit, and sweating like a pig. 

He did not feel well at all, he quickly realized. His gut churned as if he somehow ate ten bowls of soup instead of one. He could feel sweat dampening his clothes, making the bottom layers stick to his skin.  

When another burp bubbled up from his belly, he managed to cover his mouth in time. His hand couldn’t muffle all the sound, but at least he didn’t feel any piercing eyes fall on him. 

He must have sat there with his hand clamped over his mouth for longer than he thought, because he suddenly felt Blair touch his leg. It made him snap his eyes open, which he hadn’t realized he closed in the first place. 

Blair leaned over and whispered to him, “Are you feeling alright?” 

He shook his head. That was all he did. All he felt safe to do. 

“Will you excuse us for a moment?” Blair said to the people at their table. She stood up, keeping her hands on Dakota’s shoulder until he rose as well, then she led him out of the dining hall. 

Dakota walked with his head down and his palm pressed into his abdomen. They passed many other tables of finely dressed guests, but he didn’t try to smother the burps that rose in his throat. Standing up caused all the air in his belly to shift, and he couldn’t force it down any longer. A particularly wet belch coated his tongue in a thin layer of creamy acid. It tasted strongly of broccoli. 

When the crisp night air hit Dakota’s skin, he had a second to wonder why Blair hadn’t led him to the bathroom. That was where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be. Only just then he was picturing his bathroom at home. He also wasn’t wearing this straitjacket of a suit in the daydream. 

As if she were reading his mind, Blair said, “There were too many people in line for the bathroom. I didn’t think you wanted to throw up in front of a crowd.” Her eyebrows knit together in concern as she watched him pace around the parking lot. “You are going to be sick, aren’t you?” 

Dakota nodded. “I feel disgusting, Bee. The food isn’t agreeing with me at all.” 

He put his hands on his knees and breathed deeply through his mouth. Pressure built up inside of him, slowly rising in his throat. “I don’t—” he cut off when a belch splashed the back of his tongue with acid. “Ugh fuck. I don’t know what happened, but it hit me hard.” 

“Did you eat too much before leaving the house?” 

“No,” he replied, intending to elaborate, but he paused to release a bubble of air caught behind his tongue. It was sour and thick. “No, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. I guess I forgot.” 

“You?” Blair began, incredulously. “You forgot to be hungry?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t on my mind. I’ve been thinking about this goddamn gala.” Dakota huffed. Being outside helped cool him down, but the sticky heat was still trapped inside his layers of clothing. “God, it’s hot. And I hate this fucking suit.” He started to helplessly shrug off his jacket with some difficulty. 

“Come here,” Blair said shaking her head at him. She removed the jacket from his shoulders and patiently slipped the tight sleeves off his arms. The jacket itself was damp. Similar patches of sweat marked his dress shirt in the underarms. A dark line ran down his spine. “Wow, was there an indoor pool party that I missed?” 

Dakota was in too much discomfort to banter. “Ugh my stomach is killing me.” He bent over again, letting out another long chesty burp. The tail-end of the burp made a funny sound in his throat, like sloshing of liquid that settled back down in his belly. He did not think that his belly would stay settled for very long. In fact, the next belch was more of a gag. 

Blair heard the change as well and got close enough to put her hand on his back. She wrongly assumed that the heat beneath her hand was from him being uncomfortable and overly warm. All she knew what that he looked as green as a seasick passenger, ready to feed the fishes. “Alright. No one’s around. Just let it out.” 

Dakota’s throat bobbed as the nausea increased. His mouth filled with saliva that he let drip onto the ground between his feet. He waited for the next burp, knowing that it would bring up a sludge of sick. 

And it did. 

The meaty belch was practically drowned out by the rush of vomit that gurgled up his throat. A splatter of orange coloured the pavement between his feet. Bigger chunks of green and brown dotted the puddle. Dakota didn’t get to admire his artistic creation for long because the next wave forced his eyes shut. 

Blair hissed sharply through her teeth, hearing the strain in his guttural heaves. “Oh Kota. That’s it. Get it all up.” 

Obediently, he did as he was told, retching up the most expensive soup he ever ate. And it hadn’t even been that good. It only cost a lifetime of learning to manage money. But at least he could barf knowing that degenerative joint problems were being treated all across Canada. 

He could still hear the speeches being made inside, but the aching pulse in Dakota’s belly overpowered the noise. It was just him and his roiling insides. And, of courses, Blair’s soothing touch on his back. 

When the liquid at Dakota’s feet was roughly the amount that could fit in a fancy bowl, he straightened up. He wiped his mouth on his white sleeve and sighed. “I think I’m done.” 

“You sure?” Blair asked. “You missed a spot on your left shoe.” 

Dakota looked down at himself. His shoes were indeed splattered with orange vomit. Flecks of it splashed on his legs. “Look at me. I can’t believe they invited this to a gala.” Strands of dark brown hair fell in front of his eyes, no longer held in place with the product in the rest of his hair. 

Blair gave him a sad smile. “Well, I suggest we get this home,” she said, gesturing to his dishevelled self. “Do you think you’re truly done? Was it just the food that upset your stomach?” 

“I think so.” Dakota sniffled. “I hope so.” 

When they got to their car, Blair gave him back his damp jacket.

“Thanks,” he said deadpan as he took it from her hands. “I’m really sorry. You look like a…a—I can’t even describe how good you look, and I’m sweating through my clothes.” 

Blair laughed softly at him. So soft it was like falling snow. “I don’t care.” She kissed him on his cheek as she helped him into the car. “I love you, sweaty.” 

Dakota groaned at the reference. “Yeah, yeah, man door hand hook whatever. Get in the car.”

…

That should have been it. Dakota should have gone to bed, aching and annoyed, but done with vomiting. 

That was not the case. 

He woke up in a cold sweat four hours into his sleep, feeling like he ate a full-course meal earlier that night. The nausea slammed into him so hard that he made the split decision to run to the bathroom rather than wake Blair like he wanted to. He had a funny hunch that he would wake her anyway with what he was about to do. 

His knees stung from crashing down on them in front of the toilet, but he was hardly aware of that pain. His whole attention was given to the upheaval in his belly. 

He lifted the toilet seat just in time to catch the surge of sick that rushed out of his mouth. This made zero sense to Dakota. He hadn’t eaten that much during the day, yet he still let out a torrent of vomit. It burned his nose as the forceful wave came out of his nostrils. 

He sniffled and spat into the bowl, staring at the contents with disbelief. What the heck was going on with his stomach? The pain gnawed at him as if it spent the day building in strength and intensity. 

As he predicted, Blair came shuffling into the bathroom, squinting in the light at her fiancé who was drooling over the toilet. He inhaled a sharp breath before gagging and filling the bowl some more. 

She kneeled next to him, watching as his body rejected everything he fed it within the last twelve hours.

“Oh baby, you’re really sick. This is…this is bad. It can’t just be from something not sitting right. Do you have any other symptoms?” 

Dakota blinked tears out of his eyes, trying to think. But how could he think when everything was hell? “God, I don’t know. I feel like crap all around.” He tripped over his words as Blair started to walk away. “Wait, wait. W-where are you going?” 

“Relax, I’m just getting the thermometer.” 

“Oh…good. Don’t leave me.” 

Blair pouted at him. “I’m not. I just think you might have a fever.” 

With the thermometer in hand, she sat down next to him again. She put the device in his ear, waiting for the measurement. 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. “Still okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, just hurry.” 

“Then stop moving,” she said, holding his head still. The heat coming from his scalp made the thermometer obsolete. She could already feel the fever burning through him. When it read his temperature as 102°F, Blair was not surprised. 

She could not tell him right way because as soon as she took the thermometer out of his ear, he pitched forward, belching up a smaller gush of vomit. Blair hated the way he moaned and hugged his belly. “Aw, Kota. I think you caught a stomach bug, baby.” 

His roiling stomach agreed whole-heartedly. There was definitely a nasty little bugger worming its way through his digestive track. Pretty soon it would turn his bowels to water, but for now it made his stomach throb with nausea. 

Dakota groaned and rested his head on Blair’s shoulder. “I feel awful, Bee.” 

“I know,” she cooed, entwining her fingers in his hair. “Only thing to do is wait it out together.” 

[riddlesrose]

when he catches you wearing something of his..

pairings; diluc, childe;tartaglia & kazuha

spoilers for childe’s given name!! also his part is kinda long kdjdhdbjx my favouritism is showing

when diluc arrived home from his shift at angel’s share, he’s expecting you to be seated by the fireplace or curled up on the velvet couch placed along side a bookshelf. yet, you weren’t by either. he let a few thoughts run through his mind, such as the possibility you’re sleeping, or maybe bathing but he furthers into his house nonetheless.

after having found fruitless on his search on the first floor, he decided against looking further down there and made his way up to the second floor, where he could make an educated guess, is where you were. and he was right, taking a glance into your shared room, he thought was the first thing to do.

there you were, admiring yourself in the mirror, wearing one of his well suited, white button up shirts, with one of his thigh straps situated on your thigh.

you didn’t know he’d be home as early as he was, so you’d snuck into the closet and grabbed something that would take your mind off of diluc’s absence.

“well, would you look at that.” he mused. you jumped out of your skin, and your heart sunk at his voice. damn it, you’ve been caught. the faint smell of wine, mixed with cool auburn wind caught you in a trance. diluc was standing behind you, hand on your waist and the other tracking down to your thigh,

“hmm, i see you’re home earlier than you said.” you pushed your cheek into his, affectionately. he hummed and nodded, accepting the action and continued to feel around you in his clothes.

“it is quite late, however, why don’t we get some sleep?”

peeling the thigh garter from your leg, you agreed but made no move to remove his shirt, you thought he wouldn’t mind. he really didn’t.

tartaglia, the 11th fatui harbinger, was your best friend ever since you could remember. after his fall with the abyss, you’d always been there. even after he swore his loyalty to the tsarista, you were there to comfort him when the training was too harsh. being best friends with a harbinger was hard. mentally & physically… he always wanted you to spar with him or help him train in some way, but he’d mastered every weapon you’d supplied him with. all but one, the bow and arrow.

“cmon, once more, i can do it.”

“ajax, it’s late.”

a smile spread across his flushed face and he didn’t say anything after that and completely shut up for that matter. calling him his given name was something you did only on meaningful occasions, or when you were sure he had done enough training for a week, in a night.

since it was so late, you didn’t feel like going home because the streets weren’t safe at night. sure you could have childe walk you home but then he’d have to walk himself home. no thanks.

“can i stay for the night, it’s pretty late.”

“of course!” he beamed.

leading into his house, his family was already sleeping, these were the times he was actually home and was able to spend some time with you and his family, so he’d abuse it to te best he could.

“go shower, i’ll make something to eat.” you ushered him in the direction of the bathroom. after he gathered some clothes from his room, you sneakily took a sweater from his drawer, along with a pair of sweats, snezhnaya was always cold, but his family liked their house colder, for some strange reason.

pulling the red sweater on, you made your way to the kitchen, making sure you were as quite as you could be. deciding to make a salad and some soup, you began your work.

you heard the shower turn off and you though aloud,

“perfect timing,” you topped the salad with some cheese, “it’s done.” you smiled.

“is that ham & carrot soup i smell~”

“maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, i made salad too.”

“you damn kitchen witch, you’re the best.”

he hadn’t even caught sight of his sweater adorned on your body yet, he simply took his place at the table where you’d set up two places.

while enjoying the meal you’d made for the two of you, you hadn’t realized how late it had gotten, the clock on the wall read 11:49am.

“it’s late, are you done? i’ll get your dishes.”

“don’t worry about those, i’ll do them tomorrow, just come sleep with me.”

something he’d always ask for. someone who understood him, to keep him company, and to let him forget all of the things he’s done. to let him relax and feel loved.

you sunk down onto the mattress of his queen sized bed, covered with a beautiful blanket that you occasionally steal when you’re over, and multiple pillows you’ve deemed as yours.

laying down onto the green pillowcased pillow, you let tartaglia follow suit and lay upon your chest, wrapping his arm around your waist and the other grabbing one of your hands. these were things you usually did but tonight felt more… intimate?

you let him find a comfortable position before running your free hand through his hair, again something that always happened but felt more tonight. the small drag of your nails across his head made him feel drowsier than he already was, but he wanted to stay awake longer than you. but it really wasn’t going to happen.

“thank you,” he moved his head off your chest and look you in the eyes, with his gorgeous blue eyes, and messy hair from his shower, he looked so beautiful, even in the dark light of his room.

“for what? you know i’m always here for you.” you smiled gently and brought your hand back up to brush some stray hairs from his face, having cleaned off in the shower, he smelt so good and you wanted more. but you held your ground and let him keep taking.

“yes, for always being there. when i thought i was a lost cause to the world. when i didn’t think there was anyone who cared about me anymore, you showed me love, showed me kindness and happiness, thank you,

also, i know you’re in my sweater, and frankly you looked good in it.” he winked and you couldn’t help yourself, you didn’t realize how much you actually have fallen for this child at heart until now, you lifted your head to meet his lips in a passionate kiss that left him dumbfounded.

“wh-i-hey!” he chased after your lips for another kiss after you let go, happily accepting more. you felt him smile, that made your heart flutter even more and you places your hand on his cheek, swiping your thumb across it,

“are you crying?” you whisper, with lips only centimeters apart, he shakes his head.

only to think that he’s lying, he nods his head and shoved it into your chest, returning to his previous position. and so did you, cold hands have been intertwined the whole time and you brought your hand back up into his hair, stroking through it with ease.

you felt him smile once again on your chest before you simultaneously started to doze off.

“kazuha!” beidou called from the head of the ship, kazuha was situated on the bow, just relaxing in the wonderful summer sun, in hopes of catching a nice nap.

he weakly opened one eye to peer at the captain when he spotted someone beside her. you stood there chatting away with some other crew mates. after escaping inazuma with kazuha, you’ve grown to love the sea more. escaping was the hard part, letting go was easy because you had the only important thing from inazuma at your side the whole time. he smiled, seeing you so happy.

“what is it, captain?” he turned his attention back to beidou.

“just thought i’d let you know that we suspect a storm soon, you should probably get on deck at least, waves could get worse, don’t need no man overboard!” she whaled in her usual expressive voice, waving around her flask.

“alright, thank you.” he completely sat up now, straddling a board on the ship, before swinging one leg over, and just about flipping himself back on deck.

you concluded your rendezvous with some crew mates and turned to where kazuha had landed.

“careful, or maybe the boat with jerk next time and you won’t land that.” you jested. he smiled and made his way over to you, but without noticing how you practically hid your hands from him, which kind of upset him because you know how much he loves your hands.

“love, why do you seem to be hiding something from me?” he looked like a damn dog he had the whole dejected puppy look and even a small pout to accompany the eyes.

you could never lie to that face and he knows that. you bashfully showed him you hands, only for them to be empty but covered with his gloves.

“i just… didn’t know how you’d react, and got nervous.” he made his way closer to you and took a hand in his own, his fingerless hand glove stood dormant on your hands and they fit wonderfully. almost as if they were made but only for him, but for you too.

kazuha fiddled with your hand a bit more before pressing a kiss to the back as a knight would to royalty. your hand met his cheek and he leaned into it, savouring the way you gently ran a thumb over his bottom lip.

“get a room!” you two jumped at the shout of a member on deck, they didn’t like your lovey antics, you suppose.

neither of you listened and you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before making your way to your quarters to shield from the rain that kazuha didn’t realize was coming down. he followed you like a puppy with nowhere to go, but you didn’t mind. spending raining evenings with kazuha, either playing with his hair, napping, humming small songs or reading his poems, you wanted it all.

all writing is my own, no reposts, edits or translations.

[genshin-scenarios]

Bunny Day!

Summary: A late contribution to bunny day - where reader/you turned into a bunny!

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, Childe, Aether, Xingqiu, Chongyun

Xiao

Was… Was he seeing this right? You turned into a what???

If Xiao was worried about harming you by accident before, he’s ten times more wary of that possibility now. You were so small, and soft, and… Okay, you were cute as well, especially when you started walking towards the qingxin flowers to nudge at them - but that’s not the point!

Xiao probably tries to look after you from a distance, but rest assured that if he ever felt like you were in danger, he’d swoop in faster than the wind to whisk you to safety! Xiao really doesn’t know how to care for a bunny though, so it’ll be an endearingly awkward day until he gets used to it!

Zhongli

This… Was not what he was expecting when Hu Tao came in this afternoon with a ‘surprise’ - Zhongli could sense your presence in the room, yet the only other being here was the bunny in the director’s arms. It didn’t take long for him to piece things together.

You spend a relaxing day at the Funeral Parlour - Zhongli works at his desk and brews the two of you tea (well, he drinks most of it, while you have a cup filled in your honor) - and by the time the Sun begins to set you’ve started to doze off to the sound of his voice. Bunny or not, Zhongli remembers that you always did like to listen to his stories.

Childe

Please don’t kick or bite him for laughing,, I know it’s tempting, but Childe is kind of your only option right now!

He mock-pouts and tries to appeal to you after you start to ignore his teasing remarks - just because you were a bunny now doesn’t mean you can’t understand what he’s saying!

After the two of you make up (aka Childe promises to buy you your favourite foods after this blows over) it’s actually pretty fun! He doesn’t really have work that day, so Childe brings you around the city and even lets some kids play with you (under his watchful eye, of course - they didn’t get more than petting your head since you’re not an actual bunny, but you did wow them with how smart you are).

Aether

Aether tried to find a way to turn you back, but it was quickly discovered that this spell would only wear off by the end of the day - so until then, the best the both of you could do was just to make sure you’re safe and not too stressed out.

You visit the picturesque spots from the places Aether’s been to before, and you spent quite some time appreciating meadows of flowers and listening to the bards perform at Mondstadt’s city. It feels safe with him, and your little heart doesn’t know how much more it can take when Aether smiles so dazzlingly - you promise yourself that you’ll return the favor and braid flowers into his hair next time.

Xingqiu

He might try to give you some carrots that he doesn’t want to eat; you don’t have to indulge him just because he’s calling your name cutely, though. Xingqiu’s war with that vegetable is his own to face and not even this form can move you enough to rescue him from its threat.

For the most part you spend the day on Xingqiu’s lap or leaning against him while he reads. It quickly becomes a habit for him to pet you absentmindedly, or to rest a hand beside him so that you could prop your head on it as a pillow. He also takes this chance to ask you some random questions, chuckling to himself when he sees you deep in thought despite not being able to speak.

Chongyun

Chongyun is trying not to let his condition get to him from how cute you are - you don’t even realise how adorable some of your actions can be. You tilt your head at Chongyun, waiting for him to snap out of his thoughts when he’s suddenly reminded of something you guys could do together.

In a general sense, he knows it’s probably not safe to bring a bunny to an exorcism, so Chongyun instead takes you to listen to Master Liu’s stories! Chongyun also discovers that petting you is actually really relaxing; a bunny’s coat is soft, after all. Who knew that this could be another way of getting his excessive yang energy under control?

[momo-ceros]

pup || hatake kakashi x reader

summary: the hatake’s celebrate a new addition to the family. the ninken have always been there, from the very beginning.

tags: baby and ninken centric, hatake’s have some dog traits, dad!kakashi, team 7 as aunts and uncles

author’s note: a combination of tooth rotting fluff and crack. if people want me to, I can always make a part two because this was fun to write. hatake himeyo means princess of the rice field and is used as the name for reader’s and kakashi’s daughter,

They had refused to leave your side early on. You didn’t know if it was because Kakashi had ordered them to or because they wanted to. Perhaps a mixture of both. To say that Kakashi had become overprotective during your pregnancy would have been an understatement.

He had refused to leave your side at first, Shikamaru had dragged him back to work after he had missed one too many days, completely neglecting his duties. It wasn’t as if you were ungrateful, but a Hokage neglecting his village for his pregnant spouse might have been sweet, but bad news all the same.

So now you were stuck, propped up against Bull, reading a book with Pakkun resting on your growing stomach. The small dog liked to be close to the baby, often falling asleep with his ear pressed against it. 

He was eerily similar to Kakashi in that regard, you had witnessed far too many petty dog fights between your husband and his summons over the desired spot on your belly to keep count. You had whacked Kakashi over the head the last time he had actually growled back at the ninja dogs, his sharp teeth bared. 

Pakkun had been unfazed by that, of course. None of the other ninken were particularly impressed with their pack leader either.

                                                    »»——⍟——««

“Your pup is so tiny boss”, Akino grumbled as he eyed the small child.

The other ninken barked in agreement. Kakashi paid no mind to them. He was far too enraptured by the small bundle cradled in your arms. She truly was small, the small tuft of silver hair on her head being a clear indicator that she was Hatake. 

It only occurred him now that the Hatake line would not end with him, not anymore, like he had thought for years when he had been at his lowest point. No, the Hatake line would continue with his daughter now. From the moment he had laid his eyes on her, he had known that she would be the most precious thing in his life, right next to you.

Kakashi cried, sobbed like a little child, when you had given her to him and he held her so carefully as if she was a porcelain doll. You were grateful for the rest you were getting, your eyelids threatening to fall close as you were on the brink of exhaustion from the labour. 

You eventually did fall asleep, your face resting on Kakashi’s lap as he had laid next to you on the small hospital bed, both of you huddled close due to its size, with your daughter in your husband’s arms.

Its how Sakura found the three of you hours later, having personally helped to deliver her old teacher’s child and she giggled at the scene, the small Hatake family surrounded by Kakashi’s summons standing guard.

A pack stuck together.

                                                    »»——⍟——««

“What do we need boss?”, Uhei asked, trotting besides Kakashi who was intently studying a shopping list barely readable due to your sloppy handwriting.

“Carrots, I think”, Kakashi replied, squinting at the paper, “and more baby food if you ask me. Himeyo is eating quite a lot.”

“Still not enough if you ask me”, Bull said in his gruff voice, the child gently swaying in the baby carrier strapped to his back, every thundering step he took enough to shake the small Hatake. Pakkun was on Bull’s back as well, ensuring that no harm would befall their pack leader’s puppy.

Himeyo appeared to be a lot more frail and vulnerable than normal pups did, but maybe that was just because she was a human. 

“Maybe some snacks too”, Bisuke suggested slyly, knowing that if Kakashi did, you would be more than willing to share the food with him and the other ninken.   

Kakashi sent Bisuke a glance before resigning.

He had to take care and provide for his pack after all.

                                                   »»——⍟——««

Himeyo had never been a fussy child, something both you and Kakashi were eternally grateful for. You had heard the horror stories that Mirai put Kurenai through.

She slept through the nights, also allowing both you and Kakashi to get proper rest, something invaluable to a parent.

You had awoken tonight, at three in the moment for no reason in particular. You shifted before moving to get up. Maybe something to drink would help. Your gaze fell onto your husband who barely shifted, only letting out a small whimper when his subconscious mind realized that your warmth was missing.

He had come a long way, no longer waking at the smallest movement, no longer on high alert all the time, finally letting his guard down. It had seemed impossible years ago.

You went downstairs towards the kitchen but stopped dead in your tracks when you passed by Himeyo’s bedroom.

She was whining, upset at something but before you could move, Guruko lazily carried himself over to the crib, flopping down next to her. Pakkun joined him, licking the fat tears away from Himeyo’s cheeks as the little girl began to giggle gleefully.

It was then that you realized that maybe Himeyo wasn’t such a quiet child after all.

Maybe she just had a good pack to look after her.

                                                   »»——⍟——««

You blinked in confusion.

“And this is...?”

“The pup is starting to grow its fangs soon is it not?”, Urushi asked.

“Teething is a lot more difficult for Hatake. My father told me its because our teeth are sharper compared to other humans, a trait we and Inuzuka have in common”, Kakashi elaborate.

“So you brought Himeyo... a chew toy? For dogs?”

“Urushi picked and tested it.”

You sighed. You wish this was the weirdest thing Kakashi had done. You caught him once rubbing himself around your apartment door when you had started dating. Embarrassed, he had told you that he was marking his territory, something inherently hereditary. With the two of you being in a committed relationship, he had told you that he began to view your small, cramped apartment just as much as a home, as a territory as he did his own.

It got better after the two of you had rebuild the Hatake clan on the old compound, but there was also no doubt that your husband was weird.

“I- no you know what? Whatever. Give our daughter a chew toy. You will know what's best for the little Hatake”, you resigned, your shoulders dropping in defeat.

                                                  »»——⍟——««

Your daughter seemed to follow in her father’s footsteps, in quite the literal sense. Her attempts at standing on her own and taking her first steps happened far earlier than most other kids. You supposed you would have to wait and see if that talent also translated into her ninja skills, should she decide to follow that path just like your husband and you had.

Considering the huge role Kakashi’s ninken had played in Himeyo’s life, it came to no ones surprise that her wobbly first steps were courtesy of Himeyo pulling herself up on one of the ninken’s fur and using the dog to stabilize herself before moving forward.

Himeyo was a determined little thing, something Kakashi insisted she had inherited from you, constantly getting back up again and again, matter how many times she failed.

The small tuft of hair had long grown into an unmanageable mass of silver blob resting on top of her head you had trouble even attempting to comb through, so you just opted to keep it on the shorter side for your sake until she was old enough to decide what to do with her hair herself. With each passing day she began to resemble her father more and more.

If she began wearing a mask by the age of 5, you were not above throwing hands with your husband.

                                                 »»——⍟——««

You were about to throw hands with your husband.

Himeyo did start wearing a mask akin to her father, though unlike him, she was a far more social and a bit of a wild card. You blamed this on Naruto’s influence and maybe Iruka had put some ideas for pranks into her head as well.

The pranks were the least of your concern though.

“Kakashi, Himeko, stop scratching yourself, the bath is ready”, you yelled, sending a mildly annoyed glare towards your husband who lowered his foot back down from his ear as Himeyo followed suit.

The wonderful Hatake experience. Your husband and daughter had fleas and you were not about to let them inside before they had bathed in an oil Tsume had gifted you for your marriage, telling you that it would come in handy.

Not exactly the type of oil you were expecting back then, especially not from a woman like Tsume, but now you were more than happy about the thoughtful and foreseeing gift the old Inuzuka heiress had given to you.

Kakashi eyed the water cautiously before resigning and picking a protesting Himeyo, who was still scratching herself, up and dumping her and himself into the small pool you had build up in the garden for them.

The ninken were howling in the background, their barking laughter only silenced  as you told them that they would be next as you began to comb through your two babies’ hair.

You made sure to get them flea collars the next time they went out to the Aburame woods together.

                                                  »»——⍟——««

On Himeyo’s first day at the academy, Kakashi cried. He never was an overly emotional man, but seeing her standing in the doorway in her new ninja outfit, adorned with a face mask similar to his, her messy, silver tidied up to the best of your abilities, her eyes, a sole reminder that she was your daughter as well despite being a carbon copy of your husband, glistening with excitement. 

Guruko, one of Kakashi’s youngest ninken Himeyo had developed a close bond with over the past few years, stood by her side, thrilled to accompany the young girl. You didn’t know if she liked Naruto as much as she did because of the similar whiskers he and Guruko shared or if it was the other way around, but there was a was a close bond formed between her and the ninken.

“I will see you later, bye!”, she yelled, taking off with Guruko following her trail. 

You leaned into your husbands arms as they automatically wrapped themselves around you, pulling you close as the two of you watched Himeyo leave.

“Don’t worry with your looks and my everything else she will be fine”, you joked, trying to soothe your husbands nerves. 

He shoot you a funny look. “Are my looks the reason you married me?”

You giggled as you began toying with his bask. “Absolutely. No other reason whatsoever.”

“What a terrible spouse I have”, Kakashi mused, letting you pull down his mask so you could kiss his lips. 

“Do you plan to have another pup because this one is leaving the nest boss?”, Pakkun asked, effectively destroying the sweet moment Kakashi and you had shared together, “this single pup alone was so much work.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you continue like this Pakkun, we are going to get you a lot more pups for you to help us with since you have been doing such a great job.”

Pakkun sent you a tired look, before leaving you once more, giving you the opportunity to steal another kiss from Kakashi.

You loved your weird little family, your pack, no matter what, knowing that they loved you back just as much.