#kind of a crumb but i stay well fed

[lesbianzutara]

this is the tiniest little detail but i couldnt help but kick my feet at it while listening to the audiobook like he’s SO obvious but i mainly just love the little ways in which their love mirrors their parents🥲🥺 like there’s the big stuff with the singing but theres a few little moments and details like this they have me screaming

[apollodarling-writes]

yan! reiner braun hcs

i can’t get enough of this man.

cws: yandere themes, slight worshipper themes, the two of you initially met as scouts, aot season 4 spoilers, spoilers in general, kidnapping, kinda all or nothing thinking, some pathetic reiner crumbs bc i love seeing him pathetic, can kinda be perceived as having some form of a personality disorder, forced starvation and dehydration, kinda dehumanization, slight housewife (gn though) vibes but he just wants you to be productive.

— yan! reiner braun who initially fell in love with you during your time in the scouts. he was absolutely enamored with you. you, with all your flaws and rough edges, have single-handedly made it infinitely harder for him to complete his mission.

— yan! reiner who loves when you tend to his wounds. it makes him feel more human, settling further into the delusion that he had always been a paradisian.

— yan! reiner who is constantly hovering around you after he’s come to terms with his feelings. he has to protect you… no, he needs to. no one can protect you but him.

— yan! reiner who ensures that you’re left with someone he knows will protect you when he has to carry out the phases of his mission before leaving to do so. reiner will also immediately look for you when he’s finished, checking you for injuries— big or small, he’ll patch them up with furrowed brows and a firm expression.

— yan! reiner who is a little creepy… and overbearing. when you’re training, he’s training you to protect yourself in a more efficient way. when you’re eating, he’s making sure you eat good, going as far as to give you a portion of his rations. when you have free time, he’s always itching to spend time with you. you almost never have a moment to yourself unless levi has you stationed elsewhere.

— yan! reiner who feels the need to protect you because he’s witness just how bad this world really is. he is the bad… but he can be everything you need if you’ll let him. he needs to be your everything.

— yan! reiner who values your opinion more than his own. he needs your validation and approval and kindness. he feels like a piece of shit already and he knows that you’ll hate him when he completes the final stage of his plan, but god does he need you. he needs you more than he needs air.

— yan! reiner who takes you back to his homeland. whether you’re screaming profanities at him, kicking or screaming, crying or begging for him to let you go… it’s futile in the end. he needs you. he can’t guarantee your protection if he’s away from you. he can’t live without you; you’re his rock.

— yan! reiner who pulls some strings to get you citizenship in marley. shortly after, the two of you are wed. naturally, his family and friends don’t attend since you’re a filthy island devil, but it’s enough for him to finally be marrying you.

— yan! reiner who will never touch you in any way you don’t want him to. he will always respect your bodily autonomy seeing as he already hates himself and views himself as a monster. he wouldn’t want to be even worse of a person to you. as for punishments… well, that’s a different ballgame.

— yan! reiner who, in a fit of anger, would scream at you. he’s done everything for you! he provides for you, he keeps you safe and well-fed, he has never touched you in any sexual manner (unless you’ve given him explicit consent)— he keeps you healthy and safe and you’ll never have to work again! but if you’ve been ungrateful and have been refusing his efforts, unfortunately he wont be able to be the man you want him to be.

— yan! reiner who corners you, roughly jerking you up by your hair and locking you in the basement. he’ll tell you that you can come out once you’ve learned your lesson. he’ll deliver the absolute bare minimum. a bucket to use the bathroom in, stale bread, and a glass of water every three days. how long you stay down there is up to you.

— yan! reiner who will slump against the basement door and sob. he feels awful, but he knows he can’t let you out. he can’t let you walk all over him. it’s even worse that he’s confirming your already terrible view on him.

— yan! reiner who grovels at your feet for forgiveness when you’re finally out of the basement. he’ll bathe you and murmur constant apologies, all while crying about how awful he feels about it. he’ll brush your hair out, wincing as you flinch, and turn around while you dress yourself.

— yan! reiner who will whip up a tasty meal for you, and if you’re unresponsive, feed you himself. he needs to make sure you’re getting the nutrients you need.

— yan! reiner who, if you lost a noticeable amount of weight while in the basement, gazes at you sadly. he’ll go out and purchase supplements for you to take while you recover and insist you stay in bed while he takes care of all the housework.

— yan! reiner who requires you to do things while he’s gone. he at least wants a warm meal when he comes home, and if the house isn’t in disarray it’s acceptable for him. he’ll help you with chores when he gets home— even if he’s exhausted and ready to collapse. he doesn’t want to place too much pressure on you, but he doesn’t want you succumbing to depression.

— yan! reiner who will press a kiss to your temple, forehead, or cheeks. if he’s feeling bold enough, he’ll press a chaste kiss to your lips.

— yan! reiner who will hold you sooo close to him when it’s time for bed. he needs to feel you against him because it helps him sleep. you bring him peace.

— yan! reiner who absolutely has to have physical contact with you when you accompany him to meet with the other warriors. he has to stake his claim. he has to make it known that you’re his, even if the silver band on your left hand speaks volumes.

— yan! reiner who absolutely adores you. he praises you every moment he can. he needs you to understand why he fell in love with you, how lovely you are, and how much he loves you.

— yan! reiner who just wants to love you and be loved in return. he feels like an asshole for ripping you away from everything you’ve ever known but he needs you.

[romaritimeharbor]

pantalone thoughts you ask?????? hmm...

i know you've already written panatalone as a father, but have you considered pantalone with a childhood friend? someone who had seen him claw his way up through poverty to become the richest person in teyvat. they still see the scars that his old life left; how he can never bring himself to waste even a crumb of food, how he always insists they eat before he does so at least one of them is well-fed, how he stashes money in hidden corners of his home for 'emergencies'.

he likes to buy them things: clothing, trinkets, the whole works. someone who has stayed by his side for so long deserves nice things, he reasons with himself while he buys them another necklace as a gift.

how do you think he would react if they ever tried to join the fatui with them? i mean, he would definitely be the protective type, but would he discourage it, or just keep an eye on them to make sure they are treated fairly?

and oooh what do you think his love language is? i mean, the obvious answer would be gift-giving (because rich man) but i think he would also like physical touch too. like, taking their hand to guide them through a crowd, squeezing it gently to make sure they know he's there. tucking his coat over their shoulders during cold days, letting it fall over them heavily like he's embracing them. maybe a quick cheek kiss when he has to leave for an extended period of time.

OH MY GOD I LITERALLY HAVE. AVERYYY. HIM WITH A CHILDHOOD FRIEND IS SUCH A PEAK IDEA. I HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT BUT HAVE NEVER PURSUED IT.

ohh him insisting that they eat, even after the days of poverty are long behind him, rather than him. just so one of them is fed, should something happen that prevents the meal from continuing. weeps sobs cries...... ouuhhhnfhdnvdn

oh he would so spoil them so badly!!! and y'know, if they think about it long enough... he's kind of always been that way, hasn't he? he'd always sacrifice anything he could to keep them healthy and alive in their youth because at least one of them had to live. and it's just that he now has the means to spoil them more lavishly.... so he does! and he doesn't even think twice about it tbh.

i think he would let them actually! they've been basically attached at the hip for so long, so it would kind of hurt to part from them, wouldn't it? but he would definitely keep an eye on them. and the second he attains harbinger status? they're in his unit, at his side, all the time. do they actually do anything? um. debatable (they do, just nothing that's anywhere near as rigorous as the work they did in their earlier fatui days LMAO). but! they're basically his right hand.

(i can actually see their attempt at joining the fatui with him going a lot of different ways, but for the sake of this post, we'll just explore the one way haha)

NO HE IS SUCH A PHYSICAL TOUCH GUY little kisses on their temple when he knows he'll be away for longer than usual, he's very sorry, he doesn't want to go either :( a hand on the dip of their back whenever they're walking somewhere with him. a hand or two on one or both of their shoulders, squeezing a kind reassurance that wordlessly says he's there and nothing bad will happen, when he feels that they are being theatened or that they're nervous about something. oh and the coat thing!!!!! gently draping it over them because well, he can't have them getting cold, now can he (and that is, again, one of those little flickers of sacrifice for their comfort and wellbeing)? people would almost think they're dating or something, but really, it's just that intimacy becomes second nature when they had to huddle for warmth at night at such a close proximity that it surely seemed as if they both were trying to merge with one another's very flesh and bone, lest they both die of hypothermia. it really doesn't get any more intimate than that. but no-one else needs to know that truth. they may as well be life partners anyway, so he can't really say he cares that people think they're dating or engaged.

they are literally platonic life partners 🙏

[tempenensis]

Hi lele just wanna drop a lil vent AND need YOUR opinion on it please if you would be so kind♡ tq

I hate western fandom so much like even god can't help them!

Ok so i shipped satosugu and itafushi (♡♡) but now this western fans are screaming crying blah blah saying its canon when its NOT

Ok i understand about itafushi cus gege has implied it as well but nothing about satosugu has been said has it? It was just a mistranslation for godsake

All these western ppl started screaming satosugu canon after the director said some ship stuff but that SO does NOT make it official now does it?

I mean even the director of bleach has officially admitted that the anime was kinda biased and towards ichiruki than the ichihime that was later CANON by the MANGAKA himself

Im east asian and i speak and write Japanese well (its my first languag) and so i have always been reading manga first and then watching the anime. And i, as a manga reader, noticed the difference and so many things that were indeed ichiruki but thats not what im saying

Cmon are you getting me lele?! Im not trying to spread hate i just want the western fans to know not to cry wolf unless its OFFICIALLY confirmed or such

Just because THEY WANT to make a ship canon thru some half assed opinions does not mean they would pressurized or shame others who do not get on board on their not canon but i say its canon so its canon train

I really liked satosugu because i though it was cute but now i don't cus the western fandom made it so toxic

I told them that the official manga that is in Japanese language says something else (that my one and only thing) they literally all hounded on me, bullied me online for being a 'homophobe'? Like why? I have a girlfriend for around 3yrs now haha 😂 (im a girl)

I DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY IM SORRY LELE FOR WASTING YOUR TIME BUT I JUST want WHAT IS YOUR OPINION please

Thank you very much

Have a wonderful day

Uh, yeah. So it's finally time that I came clear. I once said that I have a ship that I barely tolerate, so.... that NOTP is none other than stsg. I recently block the ship tag here in tumblr, actually. So now that I said this, stsg fans, you're very welcome to block me.

I'll put the rest of my answer under the cut in consideration for the ship fans, since this is definitely not for the fans. Don't say I didn't warn you if you're one of the fans and still continue to read and then get offended

Honestly, this is a thing that has been happening since several months ago. I don't know exactly why, but the western stsg fandom got very loud - to the point that I, who usually can tolerate many things including pairings that I don't ship, became unable to ignore it. Fans today really likes to throw words like "canon" and easily verbally attack people who don't agree.

Anyway, even if Director Park said it, it doesn't really make it actually canon. I still remember Nakata Jouji (I love the man, he's my favorite priest in Fate series), the seiyuu for Naobito, said that Naobito is Maki's father, which later written by Gege to be untrue. Ougi is Maki's actual father. So, unless Gege writes or says it directly, what other people (even staffs) can only be considered as a speculation; since it's their interpretation of the characters, just like we fans do.

It's just when related to a ship, fans always get loud. Remember viz's mistranslation "my one and only" lol? I have long thought since the volume came out that the stsg fans will take it and run with it. And this is just a personal theory, but the loudest one are the one with the smallest crumbs. Itfs is still fed today by gege so we're just content day to day, but stsg currently has nothing in the manga so they get really loud when the smallest crumb drops. It'll pass if you wait, just stay calm lol.

So my intolerance does not come from the ship itself, but from the fans, so yeah. Same, anon, same.

[custardcove]

First Memories

Chapter Five - Easy as Pie

The competition was to be held three days after their discussion. Alice spent that time getting ready, despite her ever-growing sense of dread. Knowing Queenie, they’d be working in front of an audience, she’d make it the biggest deal possible, and Alice would crack under the pressure. But there was no use being paralysed by fear, she’d just have to do her best…

She had looked online and in Pansy’s cookbooks for the easiest to follow recipe of the highest quality. Ultimately, she’d cobbled together a fusion of several methods that she thought would be best. Some said to precook the apples, others said not to, but she’d made her mind up to follow the latter. This meant marinating the peeled and cut apples in sugar and spices for an hour. It seemed like there would be a lot of waiting time between cooking it all … she wished Taylor had shouted out something less time-consuming.

“The kind of apples you use are important too,” Pansy said from behind her, making her jump. “Got word there’ll be a few to choose from tomorrow.”

Alice wiped her hands on her loaned apron, which had otherwise stayed relatively clean. “What would you recommend?”

“Hmm.” Pansy leant on the doorframe to the kitchen, rubbing her chin. “Pink Ladies? No—maybe Braeburn. Somethin’ I can tell what it is might be better; that’s what I usually use—it’s what you got there. I’d want it to be fair, but … Queenie’s not playing fair.”

“Yeah. I’d expect she might try something.” Alice sighed. A half-finished pie crust lay on the counter before her. “Even if I don’t win though, um. Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know how to repay you, but I’ll try when I—”

“Aw, you don’t need to do that.” Pansy moved closer to clap her on the shoulder.

“I do! I can’t just take living here for granted. Not like with my parents,” Alice joked. It didn’t get much of a reaction, so she continued, “Thank you, though. Really. I’d be dead two or more times without your help.”

Arms crushed her middle as Pansy swept forward, full of sentimentality. “Aww, you big softie!”

“I’m just being honest—I haven’t done anything to deserve—”

“Simply be! You don’t need to ‘deserve’ being rescued, or fed.”

“I suppose, but that doesn’t make you any less kind.”

Once Alice had escaped the pseuman’s iron grasp, she proceeded to cook her trial pie. When it had cooled she cut a slice for Pansy and mashed up some of the cooked apple for Primrose to try.

“Well…” she hovered as Pansy ate. “Is it any good?”

“It’s not bad.” Pansy chewed on her words as she savoured the pie. “I wasn’t expectin’ my socks to get blown off, but it’s cooked fine, and you’ve spiced it enough. I’d only recommend cutting the apples a bit more even-like tomorrow.”

“Right…” Alice gripped onto the apron fabric. At least it wasn’t awful, then.

Pansy helped spoon some of the apple mush into her daughter’s mouth. “See, Prim likes it.”

“Prim can judge tomorrow instead of you, then.”

Laughing, Pansy put the spoon down. “You’ll do fine! Better yet if you taste it yourself, might give you an idea.”

Alice cut herself a slice, sitting at the table with a cloud of gloom. She put a crumb of the pie in her mouth. It needed custard. “So, if I lose…”

“We’ll just have to think of somethin’ else. Find a trinket she’s willing to trade for, maybe? I don’t expect Miss Dragonpants will be a spectacular cook or anything like that. Someone with that much money has staff to cook for ‘em.”

“I guess you’re right.” Alice felt like there was some crucial detail about Queenie that meant this wouldn’t be the case, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Oh well. “What should I be expecting tomorrow? Just so it doesn’t keep me up tonight…”

Pansy hesitated. “They’ve set up a sort of makeshift stage with kitchen appliances on it—it was still being done up when I went, but I was impressed. The only advertisement for it’s been word of mouth, but that travels fast here.” She paused again to take in Alice’s expression, in case her horror was too great. It was a manageable amount. “Taylor’s gonna MC—I’m starting to wonder if he ever goes to work! Apart from me n’ Tech, Queenie chose one of her maids as a judge. But tomorrow I’ll take you there, and all you have to do is cook.”

“Ugh … this better be worth it, then.”

***

In no time at all, the day of the competition was at hand. It was another bright and cheerful spring morning, but Alice trembled as she followed Pansy to Erryton square. They’d been to Pablo’s to drop off Primrose, but the wait only served to make Alice more nervous. She gained a bit of relief on arriving, noticing that the crowd there wasn’t very large, and was mostly scattered around food stalls and makeshift shops. The cooking competition was just an impromptu side-event. The stage, too, wasn’t huge like she’d expected – it was more of a flat platform, barely raised enough to stop people milling over it. Taylor was there, and he beamed at the pair, to which Alice offered a weak smile.

“You ready?” He asked.

“No.”

His eyebrows folded in sympathy. “You’ll do fine. Everyone’s here now, so we’ll start soon. Just stand near your kitchen area—the one on the left—and Pansy,” Taylor shifted his gaze, “You’ll be sitting on that table at the front with the other judges.”

Pansy smiled at Alice, patting her on the shoulder. A lot of people were trying to give her hope today… “Good luck.”

Mid-walk to her seat, Pansy whipped her head toward the kitchen area, pointing an accusatory finger. “Don’t think I don’t see you there, Queenie! You can’t just take Alice’s ingredients and throw the contest.”

Indeed, it seemed the noble had not-so-slyly swiped something from Alice’s setup, caught carrying it away to her station. “Oh, is this Alice’s sugar? My mistake…” She placed it back down on the counter, simpering sweetly.

 Alice frowned. That seemed typical, yes, but was Queenie so careless? Pansy seemed satisfied with this result, however, and doesn’t delay any further. Alice hurried to her cooking station. Everything she needed was here—a selection of labelled apples, flour, an oven and fridge—but there was one thing she was more concerned about. She could hear Taylor speaking to the audience, now, but where was the sugar Queenie had placed? There…

“All right, get ready—”

Alice licked her finger, dipping it in the sugar and tasting it. That wasn’t right, it was—

“—your time starts now!”

Salt.

Time had already started, and Alice looked around frantically to see if she had any actual sugar. To her relief, she still had a whole pot of brown sugar, and her own pot of salt. But Queenie’s sleight of hand had still delayed her start. She got to work, glancing at her hastily scrawled recipe from yesterday evening. Apples first, they had to sit for ages, then dough, which also needed to sit—but before that, preheating the oven. It wasn’t something she ever remembered when cooking for herself, but right now she needed every advantage she could get.

Alice then made the mistake of looking over at Queenie’s workstation. She was midway through peeling her apples and waved cheekily with her knife. Alice fumbled for the Braeburn. She needed a peeler, and the sugar and spices, and . . .

---

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[sylvies-chen]

DoD was such a good episode, it was so teasing as well because they went so in with all the tropes. It makes sense that Tim pulled away after that though because he likes to be in control and that episode had him out of control with his worry for Lucy. It seemed to scare him how worried he got.

It really was!! Words cannot express how much of a rare and precious gem DoD was. And it feels so strangely placed within the show because even though we’d established at that point that Tim is a protective guy and is tough, we’d been living off of like sizeable crumbs of Chenford scenes before 2x11. They were good scenes obviously and we were fed well enough, but it very much felt like “ok, here, you get like one very solid yet still ambiguous scene of Lucy and Tim per episode and that’s it, be happy with what you get.” but then. oooooh, then. Then DoD comes along and it is NOT EVEN CLOSE to being ambiguous. It’s just minute after minute of Chenford content. And whereas the episode is largely about Lucy, her strength, and the trauma she suffers, the fact that Tim is so integral to that is even more important!! We also get so much worried Tim too and you’re absolutely right: that was new for him! He likes control and structure and yet some part of him threw all of that out the window when she was taken. His worry was not subtly implied or alluded to, it was right there for everyone to see. He found her ring, he threatened someone and risked abusing his title as a cop to save her, he dug through dirt with his bare hands, he held her to his chest and hugged her when she cried, he stayed with her all night in the hospital, he brought Lucy her regular food order, he made her smile and it made him smile.

These were not things that held the usual “you annoy me a lot but damn if I don’t care about you anyway” kind of vibe. That reluctance in their relationship completely disappeared. A traumatic event like that created a circumstance under which Tim was able to simply show that “hi, yes, I care about you a lot as a human being and there is nothing annoying about that and I am very glad you are alive. In fact, I needed you to be alive.” It’s just pure affection through worry and that is why it stood out against all the other episodes of the season and even of the whole show.

[strongbrew-hamstery]

I couldn't resist sharing this hilarious photo of #Penny who is clearly absolutely starving. She has never been fed in her entire life. Penny is the kind of hamster who will eat anything. She fastidiously collects every single piece of food we provide her and stashes it. No crumb unpouched. She's doing very well and joined breakfast club a week and a bit ago. Hamsters, like humans, are creatures of habit and already Penny sits outside her nest at about 8:30-9am every morning and will begin to make very discontented honks if her breakfast is late. It's a hard life being a Penny. 🤭 For all her naughty behaviour though, she is such a respectful hamster within her enclosure. She loves chews. She absolutely destroys enrichment when it's given to her (which is frequently!). But never has she tried to chew on her wheel (a 12" silent runner, so sturdy but has some obvious chew points) or her bin. She does like to chew on human hands but never hard. Penny just uses her teeth to communicate (alongside her honks, beeps and screeeems). She'll definitely make an interesting momma. I really love her too, while she may be Hamster Handling Expert Level, her behaviour is so demonstrable and she communicates so clearly (though with her teeth as explained). I have a feeling she'll stay here forever unless I can find the perfect home for her that may understand her eccentricities 🫣. https://www.instagram.com/p/CpgAv3_gZy1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sabraeal]

The Vagrant’s Season, Chapter 1

[Read on AO3]

Written for @onedivinemisfit for her birthday, late by a couple days due to Life Constraints, and by that I mean two kids under 10 with head colds! This is part of Annie’s Shapeshifter AU, specifically a prequel to this piece

It may be muffled through wattle and wool, but Obi still hears the question loud and clear: “What do you think of the boy?”

Bark bites into his gloves as he stiffens, the chopped wood clutched tight to his chest as he presses against the wall. It can’t be possible the Goodwife’s considering the spring, not when there’s snow still piled in the streets and ice clings to every eave. There’s weeks yet until he has to worry, until the heat makes his scalp prickle worse than a bee swarm and he’s driven off just to satisfy the itch. Why, he still has to break through the ice on the well to get water in the morning, there’s no reason to think winter’s even halfway done--

Plink. Water splatters at the tip of his nose, hard enough to make him sniff.

“The boy? Obi?” Goody has no mate-- ah, no husband to speak of, but Harwin comes close enough to both. Not a thing he’s supposed to know, but this is hardly the first wall he’s heard too much through. “He’s a quick one, that’s for sure. Knows how to hold his tongue. Bit on the small side.”

Plink. Plink. His eyelashes flutter, flicking away the drops. They’re cold enough to sting, but there’s nothing to be done, not unless he wants to drop his whole load and give away the game.

“He’ll grow yet.” He won’t, but it’s kind of her to think so. Among his kind, he’s already tall enough, a full-grown male who peers over most heads. Last thing he needs is to stick out any more. “I thought I might speak to him. Ask if he wants to stay on through the spring. Might be nice to have another set of hands, specially when people start traveling the roads again.”

Plink. Obi looks up, licking the water from his lips. The icicle, it’s melting. Even now, he can see the next drop beading on its tip, trembling as grows bigger, no longer able to fight against the earth’s sway--

Ah, so it is time. 

Goody never has time for her little chat. Obi slinks in when the serving girls are all aflutter, asking about stews and trenchers and whether they’ll have enough ale in the cask for after sundown, leaving the wood by the hearth. It’s nothing to snag his sack then, filling it with what he can reach in the larder. Bread, cheese, dried meat-- anything that will keep; he’ll need it until the snow melts. There’s always forage to be found by those wise enough to see it, but nuts and winter berries make a thin meal indeed.

A meat pie on a sill makes for a king’s feast as he lets his feet carry him out of town, the stink of man fading away as he wanders from the well-trod road out to where stone cedes to pasture. Or at least it would, if the last storm hadn’t covered the fields. Might have been nice to stay on until the last frost; he had no proper bed, the way the serving girls did, but a mat rolled out on the hearth made for a warmer one than he’s used to. And if he was fed scraps...well, being fed was better than not being fed at all.

But winter’s comforts do not last spring’s thaw. The goodwife might find her boy handy now, but that would pass soon enough. All it took was a few custom asking about the gloves on his hands and the hat that never left his head, and folks would start looking at him sideways, start puzzling at a mystery never meant to be solved. Better to leave now, before his memory can sour.

By next year these folk will have forgotten him. After all, boys disappear off the streets all the time. No use remembering a scrawny one.

The pie loses its charm along with its warmth. Still, he’s eaten worse-- will eat worse, if history holds-- and he stretches it to its last crumb. After that first glut he keeps to a bite every few hours, ignoring hunger when it wraps its sticky fingers around his stomach. It’s hardly a stranger, after all. Practically an old friend. 

It’s a day’s walk to get to the forest’s edge. Not the one the townsfolk mark, just outside the glow of their little village, but the one he knows, long past where the stink of man has faded. Another day sees him safe, long past any trail even the most daring would mark. It’s only then that he dares to take off the cap.

It’s like being born again. All at once the world gains new dimension, a riotous cacophony that swells over him like a wave. His ears ache; both from the deluge of sound and from being pinned so tight for so long. A simple flick eases the physical discomfort, but the rest...

Obi breathes deep, cold burning his lungs. He’s dizzy, disoriented, but by all spirits in this wood-- as little as he can feet them-- he would take this over another second of pretending to be man’s child.

He dares a fire that night; a small one, just at the mouth of a cave he finds beneath a mossy outcropping. Sitting close, there’s enough light to stitch by-- and enough warmth that he can take off his trousers altogether. Still, he works quickly, ripping fabric and plucking out seams, squinting and swearing until they’ve been made new.

Getting to his feet with a wince-- ah, but these rocks are still cold, fire or no-- Obi pulls them on. It takes a moment to catch his tail, threading it through the hole he’s made. but when he’s finished...

Well, it’s easy to pick out his hasty work from the goodwife’s careful stitches, but at least his tail isn’t cramped inside a leg. Matted and sad as it is, it spreads over the rock like ash from a fireplace, or maybe ink from a quill. Given a few days, it’ll fluff up fine, the envy of every dog from here to Tanbar. And with these clothes, fresh from man’s world-- well, it’d be hard to keep the vixens off him, really. So long as the Keeper didn’t catch wind of a vagrant roaming around. That’s the last thing he needs, a wilder getting all curious about him.

He hulls a hunk of bread from his loaf, setting it to toast on a rock at the fire’s edge. It’ll make a meager feast even with the meats and cheese he’s got in his pack, but it’ll fill him. Until the snow melts, that’s all he can ask, unless he’d like hunger clinging to his shadow, a demon not even those mountain women can exorcise, try as they might. Worse comes to worst, he might be able to stave it off in his small form, feeding off the small rodents that peek their noses out of their burrows, but they’re a spare meal at best, hardly enough to keep him hunting. And still...

It’s not good to stay small so long. That’s what the wise women would say when he was just a kit, scolding the young when they’d play their hiding games out in the wood, seeing how long it would take for the other to find them. Obi had been the best at that game; he’d manage a day or two, enough that the patrols would have to find him, dragging him out from his warren by the back legs.

Stay too long like that and you’ll forget, one of them had creaked direly. You’ll forget what it’s like on two legs, on how to do anything but feed and flee. Wild in truth, that’s what you’ll be, and never able to come back.

He’d never taken the old witches seriously. Who could, when he was so used to the elders barking, make a face like that and you’ll get stuck! Yelp too much and you’ll only be able to howl! It was silly superstition, a way to make the kits behave.

Or so he had thought. Never again.

His mouth sours, so much that even water can’t wash it out. It takes a slice of sausage, salty enough to cleanse any spirit, to banish the taste. He’ll have to consider that though-- what he’s going to do during the weeks his supplies her sparse, and the forage is thin on the ground. Where he’ll go if he doesn’t want to hunker down and hope for spring.

Tanbar’s a fine enough stretch, so long as he stays out of the hills. He doesn’t need to get tangled up in territorial disputes, especially when the picking’s so slim. But go much further south and there’s patrols, two dogs to every pass, with noses sharp enough to pick out another in the brush. They’re not kind to vagrants there, even less so the ones they’ve marked before. Different Keeper, maybe, but Shenazards are either shrewd or stupid, and neither makes for a comfortable jailer.

There’s the Yuris Wilds even farther south, a long jaunt for a cold welcome, though the weather might well make up for it. But the Keeper...

Obi grimaces. The Valley’s his best bet. The snows may not melt as quick as further south, but there’s a patch that’s thick with winter berries not far past the territory’s edge, and plenty of tubers once the their stems peeks above the drifts. He’d hardly have to skirt far past the boundary to reap the rewards. Last time he’d gone there hadn’t even been a patrol; no point when the land’s been abandoned since the last Keeper’s time.

The toast burns his fingers when he plucks it from the stone, but even that can’t keep the grin from his face. There’s an extra slice of sausage when he takes his first bite, cheese and meat softening with the the warmth of the bread beneath it. His supplies may be scant this season, but he has something far better now: a plan.

He approaches the valley as a little one, cutting through the tall grass with as much substance as a shadow. The night covers him; as long as he keeps downwind and moves when the grass does, his pelt merely a darker spot among many. Not that there’s anyone keeping watch here-- he smells one dog at the most northern border, a sharp, unpleasant set that annoys more than unnerves, but once he skirts south it becomes all sweet with a hint of pine.

The patch is where he remembers it, nestled only an hour’s trot past the treeline. Dawn breaks when he reaches it, sun filtering through the thick canopy, dappling the snow like stained glass, and he flops into the underbrush with a relieves fwoosh. Three days of scant meals have left him famished, mouth watering as he stares up at the plump, ripe winter berries, but--

But he’s been traveling all night as a little one. Good for swiftness and stealth, but stamina...

His breath evens, chin resting on his paws. A small nap, that’s all he needs. Enough to let the sun come up and warm the air, and then he’ll shift, letting his clever hands take their bounty. Glut himself before he finds his next bolthole.

When Obi sleeps, he sleeps the sleep of victors. But when he wakes--

“Tulleri, lull, is he still alive?” The song cuts through the silence, bright as the sunlight itself, sending him stumbling to full wakefulness. “Far, far away in the forest.”

The vixen’s scent follows not long behind, carried on the same winds as her melody, a mix of sweet honey and bitter greens-- the same as the buds he used to pop with chubby fingers, their fluffy blooms spilling wetly across his fingers, leaving a stench the wise women would cluck over him for. Leave them, they would grouse, all three together, they taste better on the spit than they do your fingers, pup.

“Why yes, he is.” He’d slept so easy thinking it was simply the herbs growing beneath the snow, muted by the melt, but it’s her, her scent clinging to every branch. Foolish of him; the volva might warn against staying little lest the mind be forgotten, but they never spoke of this-- stay too long as a man, and go as nose-blind as one of them for your trouble. “The little one is lying in his cradle.”

Her words fade to a hum, certain in their uncertainty, and there’s no time to run, not when her next silent step brings her into sight.

She’s a tiny thing, even for a wilder. It’d be nothing for him to shift, to step out into into the patch with all the confidence his height could bring him and scare her out. Not his style; the men have saying-- they have one for everything-- you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Obi’s never tried to catch a fly, wouldn’t know why a man would, but he’s certainly had more luck with vixens playing sweet rather than sinister.

“I am busy, I cannot go out to the fields.” She drops to her knees as the next line hums through her lips, wordless, so close to him that his paws skitter back, folding beneath him. “Well, the wind blows and birch go, and the little one still sleeps so nicely.”

Obi had thought the town had been overwhelming with its hundred thousand scents, with pies being baked and men walking about their business, sweating and eating and leaving the scent of their mating upon them. He’d kept himself apart as much as he could, hiding his wilder-sensitive nose beneath a scarf, but this--

Honey and herb smother him, as palpable as a blanket over his nose, leaving it aching even as his eyes stung and watered. It’s too close, too much. And yet--

It soothes him. Soothes him so much his skin itches, even as he melts into the ground beneath his belly.

She reaches for the winter berries first, plucking enough to fill the basket she keeps at her side, singing the entire time. Children’s songs, enough that he’d wonder if she was a mother, if he couldn’t smell her innocence on her, like glazing on a cake. One left in the window, begging for clever hands to steal it.

Obi keeps his paws to himself. It’d be one thing to sniff around a vixen with a few seasons under her belt, but one unmated-- and as pretty as this one-- oh, that’d bring a Keeper down on him quick. And the last thing he needs is the attention of this one’s.

Instead he lazes, keeping one eye open as she works. He’s almost sad when the last berry falls onto her pile, but then--

Then she starts digging in the snow beneath. It parts under her hands like soap bubbles, crumbling to water and slush. Still, her fingers turn red as her cheeks, looking cold and swollen by the time she exposes the greenery underneath.

“There,” she murmurs, voice as sweet as her song. “Finally--”

Her breath catches, and it’s only then that he looks up, meeting her wide eyes in monochrome.

“Oh my.” His heart stutters when she smiles, the way females do at kits. “I didn’t know I had company, little one! Here.”

She takes a handful of berries, holding them out just beneath the bush’s shadow. “Would you like a snack?”

Obi whimpers, his stomach gurgling at the offer, but-- but--

She might think him a harmless little one, sleeping among the underbrush, but if he stepped out into the sunlight, notched ear and shadowed pelt, his brand just visible beneath the fur--

Well, he knows what welcome there would be for a male like him.

“Come on now.” Her lips purse, kissing at the air, coaxing him close. There’s a part of him that is tempted. Perhaps if he only stuck out his nose... “There’s plenty to share.”

Obi stares at her, sunk into his wary crouch, and when she reaches out a hand--

He bolts.

[neverthepoet]

BOOK: Call It What You Want

Rate: 3.5/5

Finished reading: Jan 24,2024

I love how it mirrors situationships nowadays. That no matter what other people would say to you. If you truly love someone, you’ll still love them despite and inspite of everything. Well, scratch that because that’s not love. You just love the idea of someone. The idea of what they could’ve been. The idea of their possibility. Not them— as human being. Not them as themselves.

Trust me when I say that I closed the book a lot of times on how pissed I am because of Ethan. On how many times my brows raised up just because I couldn’t take the point of view of Ethan, it makes me sick.

For Hart, I can see myself in her. I now understand my friends who always give me advices about a certain guy i’m in a situationship with. At first I was getting annoyed on how Hart keeps on coming back to him. But I honestly understand Hart. When she said that she couldn’t explain what she feels. That she doesn’t understand why she couldn’t let go of someone. That the only way she could understand that it was wrong is only by letting him go. It was the only way I understood that I didn’t love him at all. That I only loved the idea and possibility of him being in a relationship with me. Because after leaving him, the pain stopped as well. You couldn’t force someone to love you because you love them the way you know what’s right for them. You couldn’t force someone to love you just because you gave them everything. You couldn’t force something who’s not meant to stay. I remember saying this to someone… “If you that person is the one for you will be always ready for that person regardless of the circumstance, time or place.”

You couldn’t wait for someone who doesn’t even give a second to care for you. You couldn’t wait for love because love should be easy. Just like what Hart’s friend said to her…” You shouldn’t lose your mind to someone who doesn’t mind losing you”.

Often times we forget ourselves in the process of loving someone. And there’s nothing wrong with that. The thing is love shouldn’t be defined by the person we love but it should be defined by how we love ourselves. It’s not on how we could give love, but on how we receive the love we think we deserve. And we deserve so much more.

During the first part of the book we saw how Hart got madly in love with Ethan. On how she was fed by the bread crumbing Ethan gave her. He knows that even if he treats her like a garbage, she won’t leave him. He leaves her hanging every time he feels the attachment with her not just because he’s not just afraid of commitment but he will never be ready of her. He knows from the first glance that she’s not the one for him. He just found comfort and love in her but he knows he will never have that same kind of love to her.

Hart fell in love with the possibility and idea of Ethan. On the other hand, Ethan thought he loves Hart but the truth is he just likes how she loves him. But if Hart doesn’t give him the love— he will not even see her as she is.

I hope you’ll never give someone the validation to hurt you again and again just because you understand their past and situation. I hope you’ll never invalidate the pain you feel by being okay with them disrespecting you just because you understand where they are coming from.

Well that’s the thing about situationships is the uncertainty. That’s the thing that clings us— uncertainty. The thrill of not knowing. The thrill of solving the mystery. The thrill of waiting.

Love is not about the thrill. Love is not about the butterflies. Love is about the calmness of heart. Love is feeling like home for someone.

[dojae-huh]

hi huh ! i've been in this fandom for a short while actually, since 2 baddies come back i've properly stanned doyoung, jaedo and the whole nct. i've oversaturated myself with so many contents, especially this year with these multiple comebacks and gigs i've kept up with. but it's my first time facing a jaedo drought to the point i'm actually going insane from being frustrated 😂

all of these nct nation concerts but no proper moments (well there are crumbs) but idk if it's just me but they seem like there's some fight going on between them. literally all ships are having some kind of cute interaction (heck, even the rare ones) but not jaedo 😭 i might sound very delusional right now hahaha so i wanna ask you since you've been in the fandom for quite some time. and you're very loyal with jaedo, what are your tips to stay sane during this drought? 😔

Go outside of twitter.

You joined around 2 Baddies. You have 7 years of content from before 2022. Radio shows, interviews, Neo City tour concerts, NCT Life-s and vlives. If you feel like you are fed up with content to watch it to catch JaeDo moments or their interactions, then you are deluding yourself about the drought. You are not thirsty enough.

JaeDo is not a dessert that goes stale in a day, you don't need "freshly cooked" stamp on the package.

Can you tell what these moments were about? An old shipper will be fed for a day just looking at the pictures.

Also, why do you need concert interactions when Baggy jeans club and Baggy jeans MV shooting bts are so fresh? Lots of JaeDo there. They were in one team even.

[ruminate88]

Bread Crumbs For Summer

All summer long in 2014, I was confused as to why Andrew would message me “good morning” everyday but yet that was as far as he took it. I even remember one day he wasn’t responding and when I asked what was wrong eventually he responded and apologized, said “his house didn’t get great service because he lived in the country where signals were limited.” I believed him because I didn’t know him.

Andrew would flirt with me, cyber sex with me, send me nudes and call me “cutie” and “gorgeous” but also take hours upon hours to respond. In the mornings he would text me, flirt with me but when I would ask “can we play 21 questions to get know each other?” He would always say “I would love to but I have to get ready to work. Maybe later??” His excuse all summer was “I have to work”. I was getting so tired of it and confused.

Even worse, when my birthday came in August, he messaged me on KiK the day of my birthday and said “Happy Birthday cutie!😘 I hope it’s a good day for you, you deserve it!” I was soooo stunned and confused to how he remembered my birthday when he had been so weird all summer with me, flirting so much but not really taking time to actually get to know me AND wasn’t asking me out. I did think it was very sweet he messaged me Happy Bday to me and in my “normal thinking” I believe he cares. I believe I’m important to him… but after my birthday he was still just flirting and nothing more. I was catching feelings though. I was already too invested to walk away because he was messaging me every day “good morning Cute 😘”

By mid August-the start September, I now had met a super nice guy named “Dillion” from LA, Cali. He was an EMT who drove an ambulance. He would sleeping at the firehouse but be on call and whenever he got a call on his speaker, he had to leave right then!! Dillion would video-Snapchat call me every single night and we would talk, laugh, have video chat sex and just have soooo much fun. Dillon was absolutely great to spend time with. I truly was having a blast but….

Every night I went to bed with Dillion. Sometimes he would get an emergency call and have to leave the call but text me and tell me what the emergency was and say he “missed me” omg that should have made me fall so in love! I should have wanted Dillion!! Sadly; every morning Andrew was there “good morning” AND even though I went to bed texting Dillion, I was waking up just thinking to myself “Oh I want Andrew soooo bad!!” I wanted Andrew in my bed!! I would wake up aching in my chest for him. I would see his “good morning” and smile so much! He wasn’t the one video chatting me and spending time with me. He was the one “bread crumbing” me and yet, he was the one I was attached to. 🥺🥺🥺

I was so torn for weeks! I would play scenarios out in my head about both Dillion and Andrew, wondering how it would play out. Having no idea what to think. Then on a Saturday night, I noticed a guy on Instagram named “Timothy” from New York who was living in Orlando and working at Disney World at the time, was liking so many of my photos and leaving comments on them too. Eventually we went back and forth until we moved over to KiK and finished talking the rest of the night….

Timothy and I continued to chat a lot, as well as I was staying up late with Dillion but always waking up to Andrew. I was beyond torn who to choose. My head was spinning in circles! All 3 men seemed to be kind towards me but yet Andrew was giving me the least amount of attention or conversation but yet I wanted him the most. I literally felt him pulling on my heart strings and felt stuck with him.

The timeline is sightly fuzzy to me, there was so much “confusion” surrounding Andrew but I remember at some point, Andrew started his sophomore year of college and told me he was busy “packing” and was purposely leaving me on read a lot. I was getting fed up but was too attached to walk away. I enjoyed spending time with Dillion and thought Tim was great too but I just couldn’t let go of Andrew.

Andrew finally moved into his first “apartment” and who did he contact? ME 😳 I got a message on KiK out of the blue after him leaving me on read a couple days, he said, “Hey Cutie! I finally moved in to my apartment and I can’t wait for you to check it out!!” Oh I was so very very tempted but I knew then he wanted to hook up and yet I was the one with real feelings.

I finally confronted Andrew and told him, “I don’t wanna just hook up with you, I have actual feelings and if you don’t feel the same, please tell me now.” I told andrew I wanted to be more than friends AND Andrew said he wanted the same!! 🤩 Told me he was too shy to ask me out but that he saw me as more than a friend too and that night wow… We a actually stayed up till 3am on KiK talking and I can’t remember everything he said to me that night but at one point I DO remember him saying to me, “you are so precious to me” wow…. I thought for SURE we were falling in love. I went to bed with the biggest most happiest smile on my face!!

The next morning I woke up to Andrew telling me good morning again and I said to him that I had something to tell him but I was nervous. He asked me to please tell him(I think he knew) and for the first time, I told Andrew “I love you” AND he said it back!!!!!!!!! Wow I was on cloud nine that whole entire weekend! I thought everything was just perfect!! I told both Dillon and Timothy the hard news what I had done that I was in a relationship with Andrew now and I could tell Dillion was disappointed ☹️ I felt so bad but I couldn’t help it!!!! I was under Andrew’s love spell!!

I thought Andrew and I were going to be “sooo happy” but the VERY WEEK following the weekend where we told each other “I love you” for the first time, Andrew DISAPPEARED AND WENT NO CONTACT for a whole entire week!! The abuse had truly begun. I was terrified, wounded deep and was so so very hurt!! I sent Andrew multiple messages trying to understand what was going on, what did I do or say wrong….. Instantly I was “terrified to lose him” and I had no idea it was all part of his “master manipulation” plan to control me and make me super attached with him. He already had me under his “love spell”. I was a COMPLETE MESS!!!!!

[alienguts]

Attending a Gala with Bruce (Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader HCs)

Warnings: None

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted anything and I am working on one-shots but they’re taking longer than I expected, so here’s something to tide you all over until then!

Galas are a huge pain in the ass, but they come hand in hand with Bruce.

Arguably, getting ready to go out is the best part of the night, psyching yourself up for hours of inane conversation aside.

Bruce doesn’t really need a second opinion when it comes to clothes, but he always values his partner’s opinion so he will ask you for your thoughts on which suit to wear with which tie and so on and so forth.

Asking him for an opinion on how you look, however, is pretty useless.

Bruce is one of those “you always look nice” kinds of partners, even when you don’t need him to be.

“Do I look okay?” “You’re gorgeous, honey.” “I meant are there crumbs on my face, Bruce.”

If you're not the social butterfly type, galas are not going to be the best time for you, but Bruce completely understands. He doesn't like them much himself but they're a necessary part of philanthropy and his social work.

No matter what the tabloids say, Bruce does not see you as simply “arm candy”. He’s not paying you to attend galas with him to keep suspicions away, you’re his partner and he’ll always treat you better than that.

It is kind of your duty to stay by him and not wander off while he’s socialising, but he’s okay with you going to take a seat at the bar when your feet start to hurt from standing up too much.

Plus, being away from the Waynes’ old friends means that you get a break from all the usual annoying questions.

“Has Bruce popped the question yet?” “When are you having kids?” “He’d better hurry up and put a ring on that finger, you’re not getting any younger.”

Luckily, he’ll swoop in and save you once he realises that you’re getting annoyed.

As rude as it may seem, he will take you home if he notices that you’re particularly fed up. The last thing either of you need is to be front page news for getting angry at a charity event.

The car ride home is an absolute dream thanks to the much needed quiet and Alfred’s smooth driving.

Once you get home, the shoes are kicked off and both you and Bruce are tempted to crawl into bed fully dressed and just crash.

There are two warring thoughts on your head about this ‘they’ll get ruined if you sleep in them’ and ‘you’re in a relationship with a billionaire, he’ll just buy new clothes’.

When the next gala rolls around, you definitely have a whole new outfit to wear, courtesy of your very generous partner.

But when he has to run out...

Once Bruce excuses himself to take care of some ‘important business’, it’s your job to do some crowd control.

After this happening so many times, you’ve become a master of making up excuses for his sudden disappearances.

“Something came up at the company.” “There’s an emergency at home.” “He’s not feeling very well,” and so on and so forth.

There will be a few tuts from older guests about how rude it is for Bruce to leave you on your own, but you’re pretty much used to it by now.

And besides, Batman exists to do the work that Bruce Wayne can’t. For every $100,000 he donates to charity, another supervillain has gotten out of Arkham or Blackgate and that needs his attention too.

You try to keep a cool composure while he’s gone, but your guts will be in knots from worrying about him.

By the time you return home for the night, he’s already back in the Cave and un-Bat-ing (is that a thing? it is now) without a scratch on him so you never really had anything to worry about anyway.

He does say that he’ll try to stay with you the whole time the next gala, but you both know that’s not going to happen.

[blobbyclouds]

Mando caretaker headcanons

Kind of like domestic headcanons I guess? But really just focusing on the fact that even though this man acts like a big, scary bounty hunter, his natural instinct is to take care of those around him :')

warnings: mentions of hunger, mentions of violence

-Din Djarin-

One of Mando’s main ways of showing affection is simply taking care of you. He makes sure you’re healthy, happy, and safe at all times and it’s something constantly on his mind. He views those close to him as being under his protection — it’s his job to take care of them, and he’d feel guilty if he didn’t. So when you’re his s/o specifically, he takes that to an even higher level

You and the child always eat first. Always. Without. Question.

It's not just because of his creed, but because the idea of you and Grogu having rumbling stomachs as you sleep is enough to keep him up at night -- he's seen what hunger does to people, and he'll stick to just eating crumbs if it keeps you and Grogu fed

Once you made him eat first, since you felt bad he always got leftovers, and it took him ages to just take the dish to a room over

Only to come back from the other room after taking five bites and sliding the dish towards you and Grogu. “Here. Now eat.”

“But you hardly touched it,” you said, brow furrowing.

“I’ll be hungry once you and the child aren’t.”

Yeah. Very unhealthy caretaker mentality and he has no idea how to respond when that care is returned

Doesn’t like leaving you and Grogu by yourselves unless he knows/trusts a place well because the paranoia and anxiety eats him alive. What are you two doing? You’re staying in the ship like he asked? The Child is behaving? Neither of you appeared sick before he left, right?

So there’s a little checklist he goes through before he leaves

“You remember where the guns are?”

“Yes, Mando.”

“And the hiding spot if people get on the ship?”

“Mhmm.”

“Double-lock the ship once I’m off, alright?”

“Okie dokie.”

“And it doesn’t open again for anyone but me.”

“Mando.”

“If you’re ever uncertain, a shot to the leg is the best option.”

“Din.”

You and Grogu often sit in the seat behind him when he’s piloting the ship, and despite his reminders to go to bed, you end up falling asleep in the chair often. So, moving with painstaking care and cringing every time you or Grogu stir in your sleep, he’ll move you to your bed — which is basically a collection of every soft thing Mando could find on the ship

If you ever get nightmares he'll let you curl up against him

When you're out traveling, you try to suggest sleeping in shifts, but Mando always sets it up so that you only lose an hour or two of sleep while he takes on the brunt of keeping watch

You sometimes get frustrated with him for constantly throwing his own needs to the side and practically putting your needs up on an altar, so you stubbornly insist on taking care of him

And he's like??? Someone??? Wants to take care of me?? What??

So take care of him please :)

[chubbology]

The Munchies

prompt: a stoner feedee's girlfriend uses him to test out new edibles and deals with his munchies

Remmy returned home from visiting relatives on the last day of December, and he was very glad to be back. They’d fed him well and his pants were tight, but all the small talk and bad vibes had been as much of a drag as usual.

He opened the door to his apartment and breathed in a familiar, potent scent.

“Baby!” Brianna ran from the kitchen and tackled him.

“Happy almost New Year! Wanna hear my resolution? Baking and getting baked. Check it out.”

She brought him over to the counter, where she was almost done filling up three containers of what Remmy had no doubt were various edibles. He ignored the kitchen mess.

“I’m liking what I see,” Remmy laughed.

She preened and then pinched his love handle. “I bet you do."

"These aren’t your typical brownies, though," she said. "This is gourmet.” She kissed her fingertips in a muah.

The first container was full of moist shortbread, the second with a kind of apple crumble dish that looked divine. Last but not least, the third had a jumble of what like peanut butter cups.

“Try something!” Brianna gushed. She seemed to be a little floaty already. “You’re gonna be my new taste tester. I think I could really be good at this. Make some cash, too.”

So Remmy tried one of the peanut butter cups. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “Bri, these are incredible.” He ate another.

“Take it easy. Two should get you stoned. So says the recipe anyway.” Brianna rubbed his pudgy forearm as he eyed the rest in the container, biting the inside of his lip. “Hey. If you’re just hungry, I can fix that. You wanna eat?”

“I’m starving,” Remmy said. A lie, since he’d had a big lunch before driving back. But he could eat.

“Okay, I’ll get you something! Pay day was Monday. Let’s splurge. What do you want?”

McDonalds, Remmy’s mind supplied easily, in an almost salacious tone. His relatives thought they were too good for McDonalds, and now his body thrummed with the desire to just get a truckload of those greasy combos and revel in the guilt and satisfaction of eating every last unhealthy bite.

Then again. Brianna probably wasn’t okay to drive right now, he didn’t feel like getting back in the car, and the scale told him he’d hit 240 recently, “Let’s just order in.”

“Sounds good to me.”

That night, as they ignored the idiots on television bringing in the New Year, the two of them picked at the apple crumble - which tasted as brilliant as Remmy had suspected - and lounged around, enjoying their high. Brianna barely touched her Chinese takeout, and Remmy ate all of his. Then hers. Then he started grazing the kitchen for more food.

Over the course of the next week, the two of them finished off the rest of what she made, plus some more recipes that turned out delicious. Brianna got a pleasant high every time, and Remmy enjoyed the edibles, too, although his experience was slightly different. It was just—

He just—

He got hungry. Munchies but on unholy overdrive. Cranked to eleven and a half. With every high, Remmy became a little more overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food he felt compelled to pack away, savory and sweet. Takeout and fast food and quarts of ice cream. Nuts and fruits, too. Jar of peanut butter here. Tub of icing there. He’d never been very active, so it came as no surprise when his clothes began stretching over his chest and belly and thighs and ass. He popped a button getting dressed one morning and couldn’t stop thinking about it the rest of the day. He hadn’t realized it would happen so quickly, his body converting all the calories into flab. Flab that padded him out chubbier than he already was, and then more on top of that. In the mirror, he started to look big.

Brianna seemed unfazed by her boyfriend’s growing girth. She took to her baking resolution with as much gusto as she did anything that interested her, and even into March, April, and May, she was selling the edibles well and raked in money that almost made her day job obsolete. Remmy was constantly praised for being “the bestest taste tester ever” and enjoyed a steady stream of free highs to balance out the lows of spending most of his time working his IT job from home.

Working, gaming, watching old movies. Remmy already stayed sitting most of the day, but as he gained weight, gained a lot, filling out his desk chair to its limits, crumbs becoming his constant companion, he felt even less like standing up. His weight climbed to 280, 290, 300.

June, July, and August passed uneventfully, and pretty happily, too. Brianna stopped asking him what food he wanted from the grocery store and just bought him things. Bought him things she knew he’d eat when he got high, things that made his ass spread wider on the couch, his arms round out like sausages, his pudgy chest start to really droop. The scale said 320, 330, 340.

Remmy gave up trying to gain control of the new appetite Brianna’s heavenly edibles seemed to install in him irrevocably. When he craved, he ate, and he ate. And like a dam breaking, his body surged with so much excess fat he began spilling out of even his newest clothes.

He was a little ashamed, sure. But quite a few of his relatives were fat, so they couldn't talk, and it felt like sweet revenge to embarrass his irritating parents by becoming so overweight. As for everyday life, well, he just moved around from room to room slower, wore the same stretchy clothes a lot, and that was it. Remmy did mention his weight in passing sometimes to gauge Brianna’s feelings about it, but Brianna only ever giggled, called him cute, and passed him her venti sugary monstrosity of a coffee concoction, which he thoughtlessly sucked down to the dregs, ingesting a thousand-plus calories just like that. This made her eyes sparkle, huge and utterly endeared.

“Like a piggy,” she said, thumbing his fat cheek. “Always willing to eat.”

In bed, she made it clear she liked him the way he was, and was becoming. And it wasn’t long before Remmy realized he was into how big he was becoming, too.

They continued like this. Getting high together and watching movies and making out and snacking. Well, Brianna snacked. Remmy feasted. Gorged himself, to put it precisely, with Brianna’s enthusiastic help. “You look good soft,” she’d tell him, playing with belly fat that his stretchiest t-shirts couldn’t cover anymore.

Remmy would swallow another bite of a snickers and spread his huge thighs a little, with effort. “You call it soft, but I’m the one who gets tired moving from the office to the kitchen.” I’m so heavy, he wanted to say. God, I’m so heavy.

“Just move your computer to the kitchen then,” she said. “Duh.”

It was a seed planted that came to fruition a month later - when Remmy’s food cravings became unmanageable and his weight climbed past 360 - that he felt he would simply be more productive during his day job if his breaks to get food from the kitchen were shorter.

By November, whether he was high or not, Remmy was grazing all day, everyday. What Brianna got from the store became insufficient, and he started a habit of ordering take out most days. In big portions. His scale creaked at 375. When Brianna wasn’t home, he sometimes ate takeout on the scale to see if the number would rise.

On Remmy’s birthday in early December, Brianna made a fresh batch of his favorites again: the peanut butter cup edibles. After ordering pizza for delivery, she got in the shower, and Remmy scarfed down three of the big cups as soon as they cooled. Then he waited, leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone, belly hanging, feet hurting. He didn’t want to go to the effort of sitting on the couch and getting back up again when he could just stay in the kitchen, where he knew he’d end up anyway.

He scratched his supple underbelly. Found a pack of Twizzlers and started eating those.

Soon enough, his breathing slowed as he felt the high slowly come over him. And, as expected, his whole body immediately began to tingle for satiation. Fattening food sung to him from the pantry and fridge and freezer all at once, and it was all going to make him so huge and heavy he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own wide feet, but he wanted it anyway.

He didn’t care if he was pushing 390 now. He’d blown up, yeah. Inflated from a thick guy to obese and waddling. At this point, he was so pumped so big with blubber that he couldn’t twitch without jiggling, but so what? He was hungry. Being high made him want to consume, and so he did. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.

Remmy opened the fridge and took out his birthday cake, which Brianna must have stuck in there after getting home from work. He couldn’t wait to eat it properly. There was no way he could wait until after the pizza came. Besides, it was his birthday. Remmy took off the plastic lid of the round, triple chocolate cake and felt his nerves light up with anticipation. He was going to eat it all, and there was no stopping him.

He found a knife and cut himself a slice three times the size any reasonable person would take. Desperate to get the goodness into his mouth without delay, he skipped a fork and bit right into the gooey, dense cake and mouse and fudge. God, Brianna was so perfect for getting him the unhealthiest cake imaginable. She knew he didn’t care if he was ten pounds heavier tomorrow, if his fat ass ripped his sweatpants open, if he ate so much he couldn’t haul himself to bed—she knew he needed this.

He ate slice after slice, and it was mostly gone when Brianna got out of the shower, looking sexier than usual in her matching purple lingerie. She’d gotten chubbier with so much junk food in the apartment, and fat clung to her in all the right places. But her pudge was a far cry from his angry-red stretch marks and neck rolls. Hell, his moobs had grown bigger than her tits.

She found him in the kitchen, eating and holding his drooping belly, and she rubbed his back, cooing at him when he apologized.

“It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait all night. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Remmy said, but all he could think about was getting his next bite. As she watched him, he tried to hold out. Tried to prove he could stop eating for two seconds. Three seconds, four - his resolve broke and he crammed the rest of a slice into his mouth and chewed, choking back a moan.

“You get the munchies so bad, don’t you?” Brianna grinned and leaned against his belly, patting and cupping his weighty breasts in the way she knew pleased him. “Let’s get you sat down. I’ll bring you what you need. Just sit and relax and watch whatever you want.” They moved to the couch and Remmy sat, the cushions wheezing, his thighs and belly quivering. Brianna tucked the remainder of the cake into his pudgy hands. “Don’t worry about a mess. It’s your birthday. And there’s more where that came from.” She winked. “I just needed to keep this cake refrigerated because it’s fancy. There’s a whole sheet cake on top of the fridge that’s cheap and huge. Covered in icing. Perfect for munchies.”

Remmy could only feel a wave of relief at this news. There would be more cake. And after that, there’d still be more junk in the cabinets. There was pizza coming. His high was just right. Brianna turned on the television to his favorite show and he settled further back into the cushions, feeling his second chin swell out and engulf his first. Everything was just right. He was lucky to have Brianna and food. So much food.

A year later, around the same time, Remmy skipped his usual trip to see his relatives for the holidays. At 520 pounds, it was simply too much effort to move.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[starshipsofstarlord]

Stuck in 1903

Part Two

Masterlist

Summary: Damon and Bonnie had come to your rescue, or so you thought, but it is Kai’s every intention to get close to you again

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder, bad friendships, mentions of poison, swearing

Word Count: 2052

Find Part One Here

divider by @firefly-graphics

If the Other Side continued to exist, then you would be there rather than this subordinate prison world which had been designed for one bad witch. Kai's own kind feared him, you had experienced him mentally draining your energy, he was a chore to put up with, but he could do much more than that, you had learnt from Bonnie. He fed off magic, physically stealing it from bodies and items that harboured any of it, which had poisoned his mind to hunt for power. Your friends had informed you that he had murdered his siblings, well some of them anyway, and had attempted to do so to more of them. And now you knew, with supporting evidence, never to trust Malakai Parker.

Without Damon and Bonnie you had to resort to fending for yourself, which was not at all difficult since this version of Mystic Falls that you were trapped in was quite literally a ghost town. The forever enveloping silence was torture, though the method of ignorance had not been designed for you; it was all for Kai, and that unsettled you. There was one more thing that you had been dreading - the possibility that you could not escape from the remote isolation without the aid of the guest starring siphon himself. This hell was built to contain him for eternity, but now there was magic that he could use to his own advantage nearby.

Your cheek rested upon the side of your hand, mushing the flesh whilst your elbow was poised upon the countertop of the kitchen island in the Salvatore house. All of your concentration validated your deep thoughts, of which you were broken from as a plate was placed directly in front of you, a pancake decorated with chocolate chips and syrup to form a smiley face. Damon was the culprit as he threw a tea towel over his shoulder, expectedly looking at you.

"I'm not hungry." You informed the vampire, who simply frowned at your lack of an appetite. "I ate yesterday, which was technically today." Beneath the table, you crossed your ankles, as you earnt a sigh from your well aged friend; he clearly was not impressed by your behaviour. But you didn't know what he had expected from you, you had been trapped here for longer than you could remember, and alone until you had discovered the man that had been outcast by his own family. At the time you had not known of his murderous tendencies, and had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, and you wouldn't like to admit it but you even missed him a little.

He was annoying and cocky, and withheld crucial information from you, though there was something that contradicted that all. Whenever any one of your friends had suffered the fate of death, they were always attempted to be brought back to life against the natural order of things. It made you wonder and doubt a little if they had even tried to resurrect you. In this separated reality, there was no jurisdiction so that you could know, though each time that either Damon or Bonnie looked at you, you could swear that there was guilt written in their gazes.

"Look I knew being stuck here with Kai must have fucked you up-" he should have bit his lip, his assumptions were anything but correct. And that was proven as you defensively darted out of your seat and jabbed your finger in his face, making him pivot his jaw back. There were many things that were 'fucked up', and supposing that you were one of them because you had died after sacrificing yourself to ensure that they all continued to live just didn't settle right with you. The context of the morbid situation did not help with condoning any reassurance at all, in fact, it gave a spine to your lack of faith in him and the others in the first place. Out of everyone, it was inherently worse to be here with Damon, all he had cared about was his precious Elena as well as himself, and after existing for well over a century, that was insurance that he was never going to change.

"It wasn't him who did that to me, it was roaming this damned place by myself, I had no one. And as crazy as it sounds, I think spending time with the notorious Malakai Parker helped me keep what was to spare of my sanity. If I'm not wrong, I may even say that I've found more being here than dealing with the bullshit y'all cause back home." Perhaps your words were a tad harsh, if Bonnie were in the room you were sure that she'd have a somewhat understanding of what you were saying. Though she was not, and thus you had to deal with the harshness of her best friend all by your lonesome. And it seemed that you had rattled him, apparently he couldn't handle the truth.

"Then why don't you run back to the sociopath? When we discovered that you were here, we found the pair of you attached to the hip anyways. And with him inside of you, I'd never seen you so darn happy, better here with him than tempting me to drink bleach from the way that you constantly complained when you were alive; I swear you were worse than Donovan." It was on your mind's own command for you to take a step back, and away from the toxin that Damon had so cruelly spat at you. Ans the way that he compared you to Matt made you angry; it was though he were ignoring that there were valid reasons for the blond to be the way that he was - after all, the monster before you had practically killed his sister. A laugh renegaded out from your mouth as you realised that you had been right all along, none of them cared. You were just a burden that stopped them from having a perfect life together. If this were a book, then this would be the beginning to your villain arc, and ironically enough Damon saw himself as one of the good guys. Now that was utterly ridiculous after every reckless thing that he had ever done!

"Have it your way then bloodsucker." All along, you should have trusted your guy, and from now on you knew that you would listen to it. And strangely enough, it was calling you to Kai, maybe it was because he was your last resort to escaping this imprisonment that had been meant for him alone. Turning on your heel, you heard Damon flop the towel down on the side and sigh, though you continued to walk, appeasing your better judgement elsewhere. "Wait." He tried to convince you to stay, belatedly understanding the mistake that he had made, but it was no use, you were already on your journey of getting as far away as possible from him.

The Mystic Grill, it remained to be familiar in your eyes as you entered. It was empty and void of drunken assholes and narcissists that you had wasted too much time on. The only person that you missed in the modern alternative was Matt Donovan, he was the only person that didn't treat you as though you were invisible or a nuisance. You wondered how he was coping with your absence, knowing him, he was probably relieved that Damon was gone. But you weren't, because he was here with you instead. Trailing your fingertips over the counter of the bar, out of the corner of your eye you saw a lonely glass of bourbon that was sat there as though it were lamenting you with mockery. You tried to hold your sentimental sob inside, but it was practically impossible. It tore through your body, bellowing out from your mouth as you stifled and fought through your tears.

A hand caressed the landscape of your back causing you to jump and flinch from the unexpected contact. One thing that you had learnt from evading and eventually experiencing the qualms of death, was that you could never be too careful. For no more than a second you had predicted that the intruder to your pity party was Damon, that he had followed you as you tried to distance yourself from him, but alas it was not, instead of being greeted by a fretless vampire, you were condemned by the sight of a powerless witch, of whom had purposely interjected your moment of cracked emotion and wore a brave smile for you. Wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeves, you couldn't help but snap at him. "If you're here to finish what we started then tough luck Parker, you've been here long enough and you have two hands, figure something else out."

His tongue darted out to swipe at his own bottom lip, as he raised his hand, showcasing his offering to you. "I was only going to see if you wanted a pork rind, you look like you could use one." Sighing, you dug your hand into the pungent packet that was littered with dust and crumbs, retrieving a few treats for yourself as you placed them in your mouth. "And now should be when the poison kicks in..." With your hand, you gave him a little shove as you tolled your eyes at his homicidal comedy. "Come on, that was funny! I'm funny!"

"If you say so, there's not very many people around to give you an honest opinion." It was true, the only other human like lifeforms impartially close by were Damon and Bonnie, and well, you weren't going to scurry back to them anytime soon. "And if you had poisoned me, then you would know that I would be fine and dandy in not so long, It wouldn't make a difference if that wasn't the case either, I mean I'm already dead, what could be worse than that?" Kai looked at you with shock; he didn't know that about you, that you had actually suffered a final breath. Now he thought about it, the grand scheme of things he didn't know much about you in general, though he was prepared to learn. He had often found death to be fulfilling, satisfying even, but he'd never thought about its victims being so beautiful. Yet here you were before him, by chance the one force that could motivate and help him find a way out of this jarring hole of reaping misery.

"You're here, that's all that matters." As soon as those words fled from his lips he realised exactly what he had said, and a blush framed his features. "I um - that wasn't what I - you know, yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck as you shook your head at this new side that you were seeing of Malakai. His parents called him Malakai, of course he was going to become a killer, but right now you saw nothing more than an embarrassed boy whose skin had flushed as an affect of his own words. From your experience, everyone was either the killer or the killed - you two were one of each. Like ying and yang, you fit perfectly, it was a balanced divide that was settled on whichever rhythm played out in the air. And to correspond with that thought you walked over to the jukebox, a song beginning to play which made Kai want to cover his ears. "I hate this song." He told you; he really did, if he could murder it, he would without a doubt.

"Then don't listen, just dance with me." You extended your hands out to him, to which he begrudgingly reached for. And as he snapped his eyes open, he realised that was all a memory, and that goddamn song was still playing. All he could think about was you, he had seen how upset you had been to die, and yet you were gone again, and it was all down to your so called friends. One was standing before him as he sat in chains, imprisoned against a chair. "Are you here to punish me?" He asked Bonnie, wanting nothing more than shut his eyes and see your face again.

[tickly-trashcan]

Sweets Galore {Haruhi, Mori, and Honey}

A/N: ahhh hi dear! Thank you for the request~! I originally planned on just having Mori and Honey, but decided to do all three after a little thinking, hope you don’t mind! I really enjoyed writing this one, I hope you enjoy and have a lovely day! make sure to drink your water!! :D (also i didn’t proofread this bc i was in a bit of a rush so i apologize in advance for any errors fnjdkjf)

Summary: Honey’s been eating through the Host Club’s funds... literally. So Haruhi and Mori decide to help.

Word Count: 1.1k (under the cut)

Kyoya sighed as he looked down at his clipboard, catching the attention of Haruhi as she cleaned up the table.

The Host Club had just wrapped up for the day, all the guests had gone. Haruhi, Mori, and Kyoya had stayed behind to clean up the tea and treats that had been consumed, picking up the dainty porcelain plates and cups.

“What’s wrong, Kyoya?” Haruhi asked, turning her head to look at him as he pushed up his glasses, shaking his head.

“It’s nothing too bad, we’re just experiencing a little… financial difficulty.”

Haruhi hummed, nodding her head. Kyoya was in charge of the finances of the club, and they normally made more than they put in, but from the sounds of it that might be changing.

“What kind of financial difficulty?” Mori asked quietly. Haruhi glanced at him, not expecting him to talk. Though, he did seem a lot more open when there weren’t guests around, so she brushed it off.

“The food expenses. Now, we buy plenty of food to keep the guests fed, but not too much where it will spoil. We have cucumber sandwiches and cheese scones, and we stay away from expensive treats like caviar crackers, but it’s the sweets that are bringing up high marks in the report. The cakes, candies, eclairs… and I think I know where it’s coming from.”

Haruhi and Mori looked at each other knowingly. They knew where the sweets dilemma was coming from as well. It could be none other than Honey, the resident sweets devourer that the girls adored, constantly buying into his ravenous habit.

Kyoya scribbled something down on his clipboard before turning to Haruhi and Mori, who just finished cleaning.

“Would you two be able to talk to Honey about the sweets? He’s only making himself sick anyway, he could easily cut back on the sweets.”

Mori nodded and Haruhi turned, facing him.

“Should we take care of this tomorrow?” She asked, and Mori hummed, nodding again before leaving the host club with Kyoya and Haruhi.

The next day, Honey was swarmed with guests who pampered him with sweets and goodies as he devoured them. The guests cooed at him as Haruhi and Mori rolled their eyes, waiting for most of the guests to leave the host club. 

Everyone was wrapping up, Hikaru and Kaoru were teasing Tamaki as Kyoya asked Mori and Haruhi if they were going to take care of Honey. They nodded, walking over to the shorter boy as he finished off the sweets, patting his tummy as he sighed happily.

He glanced up at the pair from his seat on one of the sofas, smiling.

“Hey you two! Want some cake? Er… crumbs?”

Haruhi rolled her eyes, turning to Mori, who had said earlier that he had a plan for taking care of Honey. He hadn’t specified what, but she trusted him since he knew Honey better than she did. Mori took a step towards Honey, crossing his arms before speaking.

“You need to cut back on sweets, Honey.”

“Whaaaaat?!”

It was strangely direct, but that was Mori. Direct and concise. Honey immediately shook his head, pouting as he crossed his arms.

“No way! Sweets are my lifeline!”

Mori turned to Haruhi, giving her a brief nod to signal for her to follow along. Mori turned back to Honey, uncrossing his arms and holding up his hands slightly as Haruhi raised an eyebrow.

“Then you leave me no choice. Here comes the tickle monster.”

The deadpan way Mori spoke almost made Haruhi snort, but she managed to keep herself together as Honey squeaked, backing up on the couch, about to make a break for it.

“N-No! No tickle monster!”

Haruhi gaped slightly, surprised that Honey was actually intimidated by what Mori said. Mori advanced and Honey shrieked, quickly dissolving into high-pitched giggles as Mori squeezed his sides, Honey collapsing on the couch.

The noise quickly attracted the other club members, and some of the others walked over to watch as Mori wrecked Honey.

“What’s he doing?” Hikaru asked, concern displaying on his features. Haruhi shrugged.

“Honey’s been eating too many sweets, so Mori’s playing uhm… tickle monster.”

“Haruhi,” Came Mori’s voice over Honey’s screeching laughter, and Haruhi turned. “Can you help?”

Haruhi looked around then nodded, walking over to the screaming Honey as Mori now tickled his tummy, scribbling his fingers around expertly as Honey squirmed around.

“Hahahahaharuhi! Hehehehelp meee!”

“Sure, I’ll help,” She said, her tone slightly teasing as she leaned down. “What happens if I tickle you… here?”

“Trahahahahaitor!” Honey wailed when Haruhi lightly danced her fingers across Honey’s ribs. He clamped his arms down, nearly crushing Haruhi’s hands from his strength as she winced, continuing.

Honey seemed to notice through his hysterical laughter and pulled his arms away slightly, not wanting to hurt Haruhi. He focused on Mori, grabbing onto his wrists and tried to pull his hands away because of the tummy tickles that were driving Honey up the wall in ticklish agony.

“Mohohohohori! Not the tuhuhummy! Plehehehehease!”

Mori glanced at Honey’s pink face, deciding to relent slightly and instead started to lightly squeeze his hips, making him kick his legs as his laughter softened slightly, but still remained quite loud.

Hikaru, Kaoru, Tamaki, and Kyoya watched from afar, occasionally making comments that went unheard by the trio as Haruhi and Mori continued to tickle the living hell out of their poor friend.

“If you promise to stop eating so many sweets we’ll stop,” Haruhi offered, and Mori nodded, seeming to have forgotten why he was tickling Honey in the first place. Honey shook his head, unable to respond through his laughter, and Haruhi and Mori took it as a sign to keep going.

“Wahahahait! Wahahait, plehehease!”

Haruhi became slightly worried and slowed her tickling, but Mori continued at the same pace. He noticed Haruhi slowing down and nudged her softly.

“He can take it. He’s been tickled worse than this before.”

“We can confirm!” The twins said in unison from afar and Haruhi couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Nohohoho! Leave me alohohohone!”

“Will you cut back on sweets?” Mori asked, and Honey finally nodded, squirming and curling up as he tried to fend off the ticklish sensations.

“Okahahahay! I’ll stop! I wohohon’t eat anymore sweeheets!”

Haruhi and Mori stopped, giving Honey a chance to breathe as he curled up, whining.

“Honey, you can still eat sweets, just not as many. You’ll make yourself sick,” Mori said softly, and Honey looked up at him with pleading eyes as he smiled widely.

“Really?”

“Really,” Haruhi assured, and Honey cheered. 

“Okay! Then can I have some cake now?”

Haruhi and Mori chuckled, shaking their heads.

“Not right now, but tomorrow you can,” Haruhi said and Honey pouted, about to protest before he thought better of it, hopping off the couch and looking up at his friends.

“Alright! Let’s all have some cake tomorrow!”