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eiightysixbaby · 1 month

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haiii gf i got a request🙈

older! eddie catching u make him lunch for work and he ends up railing u against the kitchen counter😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

hiiiii queen 🤭 you always come in with the older!eddie requests bless ur heart.

18+ please! fingering, unprotected piv (he pulls out), use of pet names, food mention obv

Your soft hums from the kitchen are what wake him, the sound floating down the hall and through the cracked-open door.

Eddie stirs, stretching his limbs with a low rumble of a groan, pressing his face into his pillow and inhaling. He can smell the sweetness of your shampoo on the pillow case, and he smiles softly to himself. Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting the room in a honeyed glow. He sits up with another groan, scratching at the soft pudge of his stomach absentmindedly before standing.

He can hear the radio now, your hums following the tune of whichever song comes on. He can picture you in his mind; hips swaying softly as you sip your morning coffee, probably your second cup by now, picking at your breakfast. He can picture your bed head, your sleepy eyes, the smile that graces your face when he comes to say good morning.

What he isn’t expecting when he trods down the hall is to see you making a meal, his lunchbox open beside you on the countertop. He watches quietly as you stack different ingredients to make a sandwich, taking care to make it look good. His hungry eyes rake over your figure, trailing up your legs, lingering on the way your tiny little shorts hug the meat of your ass. He was right, your hips are swaying to the music, tempting him to come right up behind you and squeeze a handful of you.

You reach into the cookie jar, picking out a few of your homemade cookies — snickerdoodles, his favorite — before placing them into a plastic baggie and tucking them into the lunchbox. He stays silent as you cut up strawberries, placing them in a container followed by blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Giving him a well-rounded meal, wanting to keep him energized and cared for.

Something deep within Eddie stirs, and he finds himself simultaneously aroused and awestruck at the sweetness of your gesture. You’d never gone out of your way to make him lunch before, your relationship still in the early stages, and he feels his heart melt in his chest.

“Well don’t you look beautiful this morning,” he speaks finally, your head whipping around to face him.

“Oh! You startled me,” you laugh breathily, body relaxing entirely after realizing it’s only him.

He steps closer to you, stopping once his front is pressed to your back.

“What’re you doing in here, baby?” he asks, morning voice raspy and deep. It sends a shiver down your spine, shooting right to your core.

“Making you lunch, handsome,” you reply, turning your head to give him a kiss.

“Putting in all this work for little old me?” He looks around at the scattered ingredients, realizing you must’ve already gone to the store this morning to buy half of it.

“It’s hardly that much work,” you say simply. “And yes, we have to keep little old you fed.”

He snorts, letting his big arms wrap around your middle. His lips find their way to your neck, your head tilting immediately to allow him easier access. You whine before you can stop yourself, your hands gripping the edge of the countertop.

“You’re taking such good care of me,” Eddie purrs. “Think I need to take care of you.”

“Ed,” you breathe, squirming under his roaming hands. “You have to get ready for work.”

“It can wait,” he replies, lightly kicking your legs apart with his foot.

He lets one hand trail down your stomach, dipping beneath your shorts and your underwear in one swift motion. His calloused fingers tease your clit, the scruff on his face lightly scratching your skin as he continues to kiss your neck. You’re like putty in his hands, feeling your knees go weak the second he starts touching you. Your heart rate increases, breathing turning into pants and sighs as his thumb circles that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over.

The fabric of his pajama pants stiffens, his cock growing harder by the second. You can feel it pressing against your ass, and you wiggle your hips tantalizingly.

“Mmm,” he hums, a sound that reverberates against you. “Don’t tease, honey.”

He stops his steady pace on your clit, drawing his hand back so that he can utilize both of them to pull down your cotton shorts. Your panties fall to the floor with them, and you kick them aside swiftly as you step out of the garments. Eddie’s hand returns to its previous place, this time slipping two fingers carefully into your heat, wetness pooling around them.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking to himself when you let out a high pitched whine.

“Fuck, Ed,” you sigh, tipping your head back to rest against his shoulder. Your eyes close, reveling in his touch.

His free hand tugs at the waistband of his pants, slipping them down far enough to free his aching cock. The tip is red and leaking when he grabs it in his fist, stroking it a few times for good measure. You’re a moaning mess in front of him, gripping hard at the countertop as his fingers curl expertly inside of you.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks, nipping at your ear.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, incapable of forming any actual words.

“I’m gonna make you feel even better. That okay with you?” he continues, awaiting your permission.

You can hear his fist running over his cock, along with the groan he tries to stifle but fails. You can feel yourself clench around his fingers in anticipation. “Yes, please,” you choke out, wincing slightly when he removes his fingers.

You steady yourself, body practically vibrating with need as his tip rubs against your folds. Large hands grip your hips as he sinks into you, punching the air from your lungs. He starts with slow, agonizing thrusts. Letting the drag of his cock make you delirious as it slides inch by inch out of you before gliding back in.

He’s well-versed in this, had his years of practice, able to have your legs trembling for him in seconds. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep yourself upright as he picks up his pace, pounding into you from behind relentlessly. Your nails dig into the countertop, back arching as his name tumbles from your lips on a loop.

“Such a good girl, feel so good around me, baby,” Eddie grunts, his fingertips gripping harshly into your skin, keeping you in place as he drives into you even harder.

You’re seeing stars, positive you’ve never felt this good in your life. The radio still croons from the corner of the kitchen, the sound hazy and far-off in your ears. You couldn’t name the song playing if there was a gun to your head, Eddie quickly fucking every thought from your brain until all you can possibly think about is him.

The tension in the pit of your stomach builds and builds, a coil that’s ready to snap, and you’re suddenly certain that if you grasp the counter any harder your fingers will bleed.

His balls slap against your skin, cock gliding easily in and out of your dripping cunt. One hand trails up beneath your shirt, kneading your breasts and pinching the nipples between two fingers. You moan hotly, feeling your legs quiver, turning to jelly in real time.

“Why don’t you cum for me, honey?” he rasps into your ear, and it’s enough to send you entirely over the edge.

He curses as your walls squeeze him, clamping down as if your goal is to keep him inside forever. He manages a few more thrusts before he’s pulling out, cumming all over your ass. You can feel it dripping down, coating your skin in his sticky warmth.

Breathing heavy, you come back to reality slowly, dazed. The lunchbox sits packed in front of you, and you’re reminded that you’re on a time crunch. Eddie’s surely approaching the point of being late for work, and he watches you turn around to look at the clock.

“Let’s get cleaned up before I have to leave,” he says, pulling you against him to kiss you sweetly. “I’ll get the shower going.”

You tug on his arm when he tries to walk away, getting his attention once more.

“Did you really get turned on just because I was making you lunch?” you ask with a smirk.

He laughs. “What can I say? I’m a simple man.”

“Noted.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #leah’s got mail 💌

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hyperlexichypatia · 3 months

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Prescriptive diet culture, especially (but not exclusively) the sort aimed at losing weight, is ableist and sizeist, with frequent undertones of racism, classism, and sexism. It relies on the premise that all bodies can and should fit into a certain size and a certain range of “health” and ability, that fat and disabled bodies are inherently lesser, and frequently relies on patronizing or limiting the options of poor people for their alleged “own good,” stigmatizing or patronizing the food choices of non-European cultures, and judging women’s and perceived-women’s bodies more harshly than men’s bodies.

In response to this, various fat liberation, body positive, and health-at-every-size movements have arisen to challenge this narrative to varying degrees. One of the alternatives often promoted in these contexts is “intuitive eating,” in which people eat what their bodies crave, whenever they’re hungry, instead of following a prescriptive diet or schedule. This is framed as radical, liberatory rebellion and self-actualization against diet culture.

Intuitive eating is great for some people. However, there are some problems with promoting it as a universal solution.

First of all, “Everyone should eat intuitively” is just as prescriptive as any other prescriptive diet. It still frames food choices as something with a right and a wrong answer. What superficially sounds like “Eat whatever you want” actually becomes “You must eat whatever you want, and examine carefully whether you actually want it, and defend your choices accordingly.”

Secondly, intuitive eating is fundamentally inaccessible to the majority of the world’s population. Perhaps if we lived in a Star Trek universe where we could just command a replicator to create food and have it instantly ready for us, then most, if not all people, could eat intuitively. But in our own world, our food choices are constrained by time, money, and availability, as well as restrictions like allergies and sensitivities.

When I think about what food I want to eat, I have to think about what I already have. What I can afford to buy. What I have the time and energy to prepare. I might “intuit” that I crave a steak, but what I have readily on hand is a bowl of cereal. Intuition won’t help someone with chronic fatigue who can’t stand at a stove for long or chop vegetables, or someone on food stamps who has to stretch their budget, or someone who works long shifts and comes home exhausted, or a parent of three children with food allergies who only feeds themself leftover scraps from feeding them. Who has time and energy to cook a meal from scratch? Who has money to go out to a restaurant? Whose invisible and underpaid labor -- farm workers, grocery workers, restaurant cooks, homemakers -- does this system rely upon?

The third problem with promoting intuitive eating as a universal solution is that many foods are manufactured in such a way as to sensorily mislead the eater about their properties. The idea that “artificial” or “processed” foods are somehow “worse” than “natural” foods -- or that those are meaningful categories -- is ridiculous and baseless. However, it is a fact that many foods are made to mimic the look, taste, smell, and texture of foods they do not actually contain. This makes it harder for eaters to “intuit” a food’s properties by the usual means. Eaters may have to rely on ingredients lists and nutritional information rather than sensory input alone. This is especially true for people who have specific nutritional needs, like allergies or nutrient deficiencies, to either avoid or seek out specific food attributes.

Finally, even if all other obstacles were eliminated, some people are just not good at intuiting their own food needs. People with executive functioning disabilities may forget that they’re hungry, or not recognize their bodies’ hunger signals. Not everyone is naturally good at piloting a meat suit. Food is difficult, and it’s okay to need external reminders to refuel.

Intuitive eating rhetoric can sound suspiciously similar to the common rhetoric of the “natural” “wellness” movement, stemming from the premise that all bodies are born with a natural alignment to a certain standard of “health” and normative ability, and only external factors and individual choices can “corrupt” it. In reality, there are no normative bodies or abilities. Plenty of people are born with food-related disabilities, whether difficulty remembering to eat, anxiety, susceptibility to nutrient deficiency, allergies, diabetes, or all kinds of other conditions. Food is hard. Harder for some people than others. And that’s okay.

There’s nothing wrong with intuitive eating, but it’s not a universal solution to everyone’s food difficulties. We need affordable, accessible food for everyone. We need everyone to have the free time and support they need to perform all activities of daily living. We need living wages for everyone at every part of the food supply chain. We need clearly labeled food ingredients and nutritional values. We need a society where everyone has the resources, time, and support to eat whatever they want, and the information to know what they’re eating. And then, maybe, intuitive eating can be a more attainable goal for people who want it.

We also need a society in which bodily autonomy is respected, and people’s food choices and other health and bodily choices are rightly regarded as no one else’s business. We need widespread recognition that there’s no standard of health or ability that anyone “should” have and no way that anyone “should” eat, and that what matters is ensuring that everyone has equitable access to resources, which each individual can choose how to use, whether that’s eating frozen dinners every day, growing vegetables for fun, eating only purple things, or using a timer to remember when it’s time to eat. But until we achieve that society, “intuitive eating” might as well mean “let them eat cake.”

#disability #intuitive eating #food

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strongheartneteyam · 11 months

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Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 3

CW: angst, reader is a loner, reader works her ass off every day at the lab, fluff, neteyam being cute towards reader (even tho it still has weird vibes lol), mad jealous neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for depression symptoms (such as being moody n having less appetite than the usual), stalking, obsessive and toxic behavior, also TRIGGER WARNING for reader mentioning the word “suicidal” in an internal monologue (she IS NOT actually suicidal, she just feels really sad and mentions the word. if u read it, you'll know what I mean)

Not proofread. I'll do it as soon as I can ♡ I hope it's a good chapter 🥲 & thank u to everyone who's reading this fanfic, who left a comment in the last chapter and, of course, to everyone who asked to be in the taglist I LOVE Y'ALL 😘💕💕💕

Chapter 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mother looking at me

Tell me, what do you see?

Yes, I've lost my mind

(...)

Will I ever be free?

Have I crossed the line?

All the things she said, running through my head

All the things she said (t.A.T.u)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You woke up feeling like crap that morning.

Your last shift had been so demanding. You had to cook just so much food that you started to wonder if there was anything left in the pantry. You had gone into that room just so many times yesterday to get ingredients and kitchen utensils, your legs felt heavy and sore now, as you stretched them in your small bed.

There were just too many people to eat in that damn laboratory.

Meanwhile you, the cook, barely had any time left to eat. There was always just so much work to do. So many dishes to wash, so many vegetables and meat to cut, bread to prepare from scratch... Your head hurt just thinking about it.

You felt so stressed out that you preferred to unwind a little instead of eating, sometimes. You would find a quiet place, sit somewhere, put your headphones on and press play on one of your many curated playlists or in one of your favorite songs. Listening to music seemed to work like a medicine to your wounds and, going to the cafeteria and having to socialize, to have people all around you felt too much, so, you just tried to avoid it. You even started to lose a little weight because of it. Nothing too much, though. You were only slightly thinner than you used to be. But in the back of your head, there was always a voice saying "Please, take better care of yourself...". Despite knowing that voice was right, you were too tired and apathetic to care.

Ever since you started to Dreamwalk, it was like your whole world had changed. That old life you led did not seem to be enough anymore. It never was, in the first place. It could never compare to the heightened senses you had when you were in your Avatar, helping you smell and hear everything better.

The first time you spent a whole afternoon running alone through the Pandoran forest next to Hell's Gate, you felt alive like you had not felt in years.

But nothing gold can ever stay. Way sooner than you expected, you had to be awakened from that magical dream. Everytime you came out of the technological machine you had to lay inside of to be able to drive your Avatar, you thought "Damn! Why wasn't I born a na'vi? They're so freaking lucky to have such an incredibly beautiful Planet to call their own. If only Earth was still as beautiful as it used to be..."

When you were not in one of your free days, you would always work until you felt exhausted and fed up with everything. It was not a walk in the park to be a cook. Even though you loved cooking since you were a teenager, when you used to always mix different ingredients and spices and create new recipes, this profession forced you to spend most of your time standing up and to have little time to sit and rest your poor fatigued legs. In some days, all you wanted was to sleep for 12 hours straight. And God knows you were capable of actually doing that.

Not a long time ago, you slept so much that, when you eventually woke up, it was 2 pm and you almost got fired from the lab when you finally showed up at the kitchen you were supposed to be in since 6 am.

You promised yourself you would never do that again. You just could not afford to lose that job. And you wanted to cry just thinking about not being able to Dreamwalk anymore. Exploring Pandora was the peak of your life, currently. It was when you felt high as a kite. As funny as it sounded, it was true. You felt euphoria run through your body everytime you got to have blue skin and be over 8 feet tall.

You liked to cook and was good at it, but, you were a smart, intelligent girl who knew much more than people thought you did. Unfortunately, you could not manage to get a higher position at the lab. Your forte was not sciencey stuff. It was subjects like Human History, Languages, Philosophy... At best, you got to use your language learning skills to learn basic na'vi fast and was able to get an Avatar from the lab. At least that was a good thing that your tiring job provided you. God knows that privilege was one of the few things keeping you alive. You goddamn hated you life, your job, everything... All your days seemed to be the same. Same chores, same annoying people... Most scientists did not try to hide that they did not see you as an equal. Even though they were always really polite to you, they would not let you in in their little groups, in their upbeat conversations through the laboratory corridors. You could count in one hand how many of them used to talk to you with genuine interest in hearing what you had to say.

You sat every day next to the less valued lab employees: janitors, cleaning ladies, other cooks just like you and so on. Your race had never been good at realizing the worth that these hardworking people had, anyway. Why would they do it now? You thought it to be so sad...

Those employees were nice regular people. Even thought some of them were idiots and treated you badly, there are people who behave like that anywhere. You were thankful that most of them were polite to you and treated you well enough. You also had a close friendship with one of the female employees, a cute, humble and really kind girl called Crystal. But she was your only actual friend. You did not remember the last time you had made an actual effort to make a friend, to be nice to someone in hopes you could get to know them better and they could become a part of your life. You had to admit you had been really grumpy lately.

You could easily blame such moodiness on your lack of will to keep living that life you currently had. It’s not that you were suicidal, it's just that you wished you could live a better life.

There was also Derek, the tall, cute boy you would make out with every now and then. You did not have a proper name for your relationship with him. He was always lovely towards you and you two would have really interesting conversations together and sneak around to kiss each other and do other types of heated stuff (though you never had sex with him) anytime you both felt like it. But it did not happen that often, anyway. You did not put much thought into it, to be honest. Derek was just a friend you would fool around with. You could not be farther from being in love with him or anything of sorts.

After another tiresome day, you walked fast towards your room. All you could think about was how nice and cozy your bed would feel when you would lay your body on it. Only five minutes after you finally laid down, you fell asleep. Slumber had been bugging you all day. Lately, it had always been like that.

They say you have to be careful what you wish for. That your words and thoughts have power over what happens to you. And you learned it the hard way.

In one of your infamous busy but boring afternoons, something unexpected happened to you.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a na'vi young man appeared outside of your glass window and tapped slightly on it. You almost choked on your own saliva when you saw that huge, blue creature staring at you with wide yellow eyes. A scream got stuck right in the middle of your throat, since you got so startled you could not get your vocal chords to obey the command your brain was sending them. What the hell was that na'vi doing in front of the laboratory? They did not use to come to Hell's Gate. And why was he looking at you through the kitchen window?

The na'vi boy just would not stop staring at you. His gaze was so intense it made you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. Suddenly, he pointed to the left. The big, ample door that led to the open area in front of the room you worked in was right at the same direction his four fingered hand was pointing to. You realized he was signaling to you that he wanted to see you outside of the lab.

You started to say, in your own mind: "What kind of weird situation is this?"

"Please?" You heard the alien plead in fluent English (he only had a typical na'vi accent), his voice coming through the narrow gap that existed between the glass and the window frame. His eyes reminded you of the eyes of a small kitten asking for food.

You got surprised by the fact that he was able to speak English. You wondered why he had learned it and who taught him the language.

You tried to reach for the door to try and inform someone that there was a na'vi around and ask if anybody knew who he was when you heard the alien say:

"Don't go, please! I just want to talk to you! I'm not gonna hurt you."

Your back was turned to him. When you turned around, he was smiling.

"It's incredible how you're even prettier up close."

"I'm sorry?!" You answered

"Oh, forgive me. My name is Neteyam. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. It's really nice to meet you." He was still smiling.

That name was familiar, Neteyam te Suli... Oh, of course! Neteyam was the son of the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, Jake Sully. He was very famous between the na'vi and the humans.

Neteyam Suli was one of the most feared na'vi warriors out there. A great archer and very skilled with the knives the Omatikayas made themselves, he fought fearlessly against the recoms, including Colonel Miles Quaritch, an old enemy of his father. Quaritch used to lead the RDA soldiers when he was human, before being "revived" and given an Avatar body. He died in battle against the na'vi. But that did not mean that there was finally peace between humans and the na'vi race.

But why in hell was Neteyam Suli trying to talk to you? It is not like the na'vi liked the humans. On the contrary, they despised your race.

"Uhmm... okay. Nice to meet you..." You tried to be polite and peaceful towards the na'vi boy, like you were advised to be by your teachers, back when you were studying and training to get your Avatar "But I'm sorry, what did you say? That I'm prettier up close?" Your brows were furrowing, your face full of confusion. Despite all, you were calmer now that you knew you could communicate with him in English. Your na'vi was not the best out there.

"Yes." Neteyam's big amber eyes shone when he looked at your face. You were beyond dazed. "I've seen you before. Many times actually. But only from far away. It doesn't compare to seeing you right next to me." His voice had a weird warm feeling in it, like he was already acquainted to you. But how could it be? You did not even know who he was before he revealed his identity to you.

"When did you see me...?" Your mouth was slightly opened, so bewildered you felt

"Don't you wanna come outside so we can talk better?" He said, seeming excited.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm good, thanks." Neteyam looked sad after you declined his offer.

"Why not? I told you, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He smiled faintly. You could tell he was hurt by your blunt answer.

It pained you to act like that towards him. You admired the na'vi so much. Damn, you even would choose to be born a na'vi if you somehow could go back in time, before you were inside your mother's womb and you could talk to Eywa herself. But how were you gonna trust him? There were some na'vi out there, his mother, for example, that hated humans with such a boiling passion. What if he took after his mother? You would be in trouble if he tried to kill you. Even though the na'vi were a peaceful by nature race, everyone has a limit, so, you had to be careful when interacting with them. You learned about all the genocide your kind had committed against his kind while simultaneously destroying his Planet slowly, in a cruel, despicable way. You honestly understood the contempt the na'vi felt when it came to humans.

You looked at Neteyam with honesty in your eyes and said:

"Please don't take this the wrong way but I can't really trust you. I know you told me you're not gonna hurt me, but, I'm still human. How can I know you trust me, to begin with?"

"I trust you because you're different. You're nothing like the others from your kind. You're more like my people. And I love that about you." Neteyam said, smiling at you.

"Can you please just tell me how do you know me? Because I've never seen you before. I've only heard about you because you're the Olo'eyktan's eldest son and Olo'eyktan to be. But you talk to me like you somehow... know me. I'm really confused, Neteyam." He felt his heart race when he heard you pronounce his name. Your voice sounded so sweet to his sensitive na'vi ears, making him move them somewhat to the sides. It was the same voice he heard in the forest, when he watched you talk to yourself saying how beautiful you thought some yellow, bioluminescent flower that you saw in the grass was.

"You're a Dreamwalker. I've seen you around. I love how much you seem to appreciate and respect my Planet instead of destroying it like the others from your kind do. That's why I think you're more na'vi than human." He chuckled happily and you got confused by his last sentence.

You had to admit he looked cute when his fangs escaped from under his upper lip whenever he smiled or chuckled. But you felt so weird thinking that.

"I'm more na'vi than human?" You were intrigued "What do you mean?" You laughed a bit and he continued on staring at you in an intense manner.

Neteyam heard footsteps approaching, so, he started to move just so he could hide. He did not want any other human but you seeing him. He knew he could not trust them as he could trust you.

"Wait! Where are you -" before you could finish your words, he was already gone.

The brown wooden door behind you opened and Derek appeared carrying a pile of plates in his arms.

"Hey, cutie." He walked towards the sink, leaving the dirty dishes there to be washed by himself when he would be back in the kitchen.

"Hi, Derek." You smiled faintly. You were still recovering from that odd interaction you had with Neteyam Sully.

Derek came close to your ear and whispered:

"Feel like meeting me tonight? I miss you." You sighed

"I don't know... I'm not really in the mood, sorry." You answered, uninterested

He got a little surprised by your answer and moved his eyebrows up, making wrinkles appear in his forehead but quickly remembered he had much work to do outside, so, he walked towards the door and got out of the room without saying another word to you.

Neteyam was still out there, next to the window, leaning against the wall. He was listening to the conversation the whole time. He had to use all the self control he learned to have with the years to not hiss when he heard that human call you "cutie" and ask if you wanted to meet him tonight. Who was he, anyway? And why was he saying he missed you? Neteyam had never seen you show any sign that he was your mate before. He had to find out what was going on. Neteyam would not let anyone get between the both of you. It would not be a weak human male that would be the obstacle that would make him give up on his future mate. He was used to challenges and was not afraid of another one. That would probably even be fun. Neteyam could imagine that tiny mate of yours shivering in fear when he showed him his big, sharp fangs.

Neteyam decided he was gonna find out who the hell that mate of yours was. He was sure he was not better than him. That human male would never be as strong as he was. That human would never be able to hunt fresh food for you, walking through the forests of Pandora and confronting big, dangerous animals, like Neteyam would. He knew he outbraved that human. He could never be a good mate to you like Neteyam could be. You deserved better than him.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @xxunnie @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri

I tagged some of you that did not ask to be tagged but left really cute comments on the last chapter that made my heart feel warm �� if u don't wanna be tagged, just lemme know

Also, if someone wants to be added to the taglist too just leave a comment below saying that 🤍

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what-even-is-thiss · 5 months

Note

european here (genuinely curious): in reference to your “american home-cooked food isn’t just fast food, it’s a lot like french/italian food” post, could you give some examples? I don’t know what foods are american home staples, but your post piqued my interest

Well stews and soups for one. When I read recipes for stuff like beef bourguignon it’s quite familiar to me. Less wine perhaps but the principles of the dish are similar.

Italian-American food often also makes for easy quick food on weeknights. Pasta is something that can be just as easy or complicated as you want. You can make it from scratch at every step or just make sauce from canned ingredients and boxed pasta. Tomato paste, flour, pasta, and dried herbs are staples in most kitchens. Pretty much every household has their own way of making pasta sauces.

Roasts are popular during the winter. Both roasted veggies and roasted meat. Potatoes are popular year round but in the summer things like potato salad or fries or bagged chips are more common than stewed, mashed, or boiled potatoes.

Americans commonly cook with butter and olive oil, though canola oil is cheaper. In recent years though there’s been health questions about canola oil and some people only use it for deep frying now.

French cream sauces are pretty similar to American white gravy which we make with cream instead of milk. We do also make white sauce too and will put it on most things. I find it especially good on pizza instead of red sauce. A lot of people also put it on pasta or vegetables.

A lot of the way we eat potatoes is pretty similar to some French dishes. What we call scalloped potatoes is very similar to a French dish called potatoes au gratin. Not identical, but extremely similar.

Stuff like French onion soup and duck a l’orange is also decently popular here even if not everyday food and are things you’d more commonly make yourself than buy from a restaraunt.

French style breads and pastries are also quite popular here. Baguettes are common things to cut up to eat with dip. Croissants with coffee are common things to eat for a small breakfast or an afternoon snack. French style breads both sweet and not are also common breads used for sandwiches. Italian style coffee is also more and more popular these days but that wasn’t true until relatively recently.

A lot of similarities really lie in the ingredients we use. We often cook things in butter for example. Or add flour to stews to thicken them. Or add milk to things. Or use wine to deglaze pans for the flavor.

A lot of home cooking in the US is affected by other immigrant populations. Tacos or curry are staples in my diet for example. But when you get down to more traditional comfort food it’s potatoes, cream sauces, stews, herbs, roasts, and pasta. Stuff that’s not identical to French or Italian cooking but is very heavily influenced by it.

TLDR: It’s butter!

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nympheaecaea · 16 days

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୨ৎ where him and i meet ୨ৎ

SUMMARY ୨ৎ park wonbin stumbles upon a magical hotel and meets the girl of his dreams (literally). OR witches, elves, shapeshifters and gods run a hotel.

PAIRING ୨ৎ god!park wonbin x witch!yn

GENRE ୨ৎ fantasy, fluff, slow burn, eventual smut

FANDOM ୨ৎ riize, nct, red velvet

when yn woke up, she tasted it in the air. something was amiss with that day.

on the weekends, she ought to wake up early. from mondays to fridays she’d sleep until the sun was in the north and the birds were no longer singing, and when she’d get up, the table would’ve been laid and lunch prepared. but on the weekends, yn was asked to eat breakfast before. thus, she woke up early on the first day of the rest of her life.

the sun was already up, chalky and chilly, yet bright in the wintry morning. yn's home was still, where there should’ve been the pandemonium of timed errands, there was only the void of those who had left. she enjoyed that stillness. rising from bed, she pulled the silky covers and tidied the embroidered pillows–her covers weren’t stretching enough and her pillows weren’t fluffing up enough. if it weren’t for that stillness, sohee, her younger brother, would’ve barged in, plopping himself on the mattress and rolling around on top of her plushies, sungchan would’ve followed, picking the fluffiest ones to punch, withal, she found haechan to be the worst of them, he’d talk and talk and talk. for that, she enjoyed that stillness. yn smoothed her dress and braided her hair–her dress wasn’t fitting as well and her hair wasn’t curling as much.

downstairs, the morning was awakening with the ushered lull of chirping and whispering, the footsteps that scattered and the glassware that clattered. yn joined her housemates at the table–it was a glossy mahogany, so vast it could’ve fitted a village, with a surface strategically covered in breakfast foods: bowls of rice and soup, platters of meat and pancakes, and the herbal tea irene would brew for their spirit.

“good morning, dearest.” irene, who had been engrossed in her newspaper, greeted the girl. “did you sleep well?” she asked softly, her voice always a solemn whisper. she took a drag of her pipe, the flowery smoke surrounding them. irene was a witch of primeval blood: she dried flowers to put in her pipe and brew in her tea, believing that it would connect her to the land and make her spirit stronger, she had a willowy black cat, who ran errands for her in the human world and read the morning paper, and she liked to hunt. but never animals.

“like a baby,” yn assured her. before she could return the question, however, seulgi pushed through the swinging doors with her hip, her steps careful and eyebrows furrowed with all the concentration she had to not spill the plate and cup she carried. “there,” she sighed, as she settled both in front of yn. “a full english breakfast with freshly processed apple juice.” she smiled charmingly, her cheeks rising with a tangerine glow. “and!” she started adding, “i made it from scratch, no sorcery, at all!” seulgi finished, bouncing slightly on her feet with excitement.

haechan, who had been silent–a blessing that yn had come to find only happened when he ate–, scoffed at that. seulgi could glide so lightly on her feet, she wouldn’t leave footsteps on snow, and she was a powerful fighter, but, oh, so graceful, it was as if she was dancing with her opponents. yet, she channeled her spirit as a newborn deer walking on its wobbly legs; sparks, blasts, and domestic fires. irene was the one to care for her, calmly dabbing a hand enchanted by runes over the flames and giving her a drag of her pipe. she was also the one to glare at the boys when they snarked, shutting haechan before he could even interject.

yn gathered the different ingredients of her breakfast plate in a bite, and even as she chewed the rushes of flavour, she could not stop tasting the wrongfulness of the day. she decided to ask, even if she feared the answer: “say, auntie, where is uncle taeil?” she had noticed the moment she went down the stairs, taeil had not been there with his gigantic crochet sweaters and his freckled cheeks rising with his blinding smiles to greet her.

irene took a sharp breath and put down her pipe. “left this morning,” she only said, knowing that yn would understand. “didn’t even say goodbye, that sappy bastard…” she rolled the dampness off her eyes and raised her pipe back to her cherry red lips.

taeil’s departure would be the beginning.

yn knew his day would eventually come, as it would irene’s, as it would hers and as it had her mother’s. just the same, she wasn’t prepared for it.

all magical beings were called into the draft. eventually, a pigeon would deliver a letter, an apparition would come in dreams, a knight would ride to the door knocker, and eventually, they’d be sent away. yn hadn’t always feared the draft, dreaded it, perhaps, but not feared. the day a cat had squished through her window, a small package in its mouth that demanded her mother, as if she were nothing more than a weapon, had fulminated the fear. her mother never came back then, even when she sat at the table eating dinner, she was still gone.

on monday a tiny little imp had waddled through the temple, irene swinging an elven axe in her hand at the sight of it, and taeil understood his turn had come. it had lingered in the air then, the loathing that taeil had tried to hide, but they could see. the way his smile was tightlipped, that of longing, the way his eyes were watery, those of regret. it was in the air, how he’d dance with sungchan and sing with haechan till late, so late, irene would tell the youngsters to go to bed, only to join taeil after, the way he’d ruffle sohee’s chocolate hairs and bake him cookies, or the way he’d stay in the silence with yn, just them in their own warm summery bubble, napping like cats stretched in the sun. they’d miss him, they’d miss him a lot. because, even if he came back, he’d never be the same.

“they’re back,” irene said, the darkness of her locks swinging as she turned to the door that led to their backyard. those opened in no second, and through them johnny and sungchan walked in, both covered in a thin coat of sweat and a blush from the gelid air. “good morning boys, how was the run?” she asked them.

“wondrous!” sungchan replied excitedly, “the weather is lovely, and the streets were so empty, i could shift into anything!” he declared, taking a seat next to yn and nudging a piece of her fried egg to himself.

johnny nodded through the younger’s words, busying himself with filling a tall cup of dark coffee. “hey,” he started, and oh no… “why did the morning coffee never talk to the herbal drinks?” he asked into the silence that had reached the room, “because they weren’t his cup of tea!” he finished with a cackle.

like irene, her aunt, yn was a witch of primeval blood. she had lived the beginning of her life by a river. there, she spent her noons learning and reading, entertained by the wandering spirits; the naiads, who would braid her hair and sing about the wonders of corporeal warmth, the kirin who would come to her window to watch her play the violin until her jaw was bruised, the pixies who would bring her flower crowns that would tangle against her mahogany curls, and when the moon would rise in the sky painted by veils of green and purple lights, her mother would come with baskets of the “outside”. she had always known there was another world out there, one with a roaring of engines and clocks, but she had preferred the world of her own creation, her, her mother, her aunts and, sometimes, a nice man that would bring her dolls.

and then, the cat came.

not a month later, she had left her small, sweet world behind. yn had followed baechu, irene’s familiar, carrying a violin case in her back and a luggage from the outside with her essentials: books so chunky she had to sit on the case to close it, gowns and bows sewed from the softest of the silks, and gifts from her unearthly friends. they had rushed through the train station, the small girl garnering looks from the passersby, old ladies who asked her questions and young boys who wanted to hold her braid. she had, of course, cried through it all. the engines and the clocks and the people and the tick tock tick tock and the click clack click clack.

so, like irene, she came from a long line of primeval witches, and she still didn’t understand things like morning runs or johnny’s jokes.

“it’s almost time to open up,” seulgi said looking at the watch on her wrist. “what is the schedule for today?” her eyes settled on sohee, who instantly opened a heavy book and pointed.

the younger boy, opposed to the boyishness his features still carried, was in charge. “we’re starting to get busier with the spring equinox coming, but there is not much to do today. i think we can have the day off.” he announced, finishing with a docile smile.

“and, hopefully, we’ll have somebody new come in before the spring equinox begins.” irene said, standing from her seat and smoothing her inky skirt that covered her to her feet. irene liked long, dark clothes, the sort of clothes that made kids point at her and say ‘mommy, look, witch!’. seulgi joined her, a contrast of darkness and colourfulness, whereas irene was elegant and dainty, seulgi was fresh and boyish, with youthful freckles and mandarin hair that sat at the top of her head showing her pointed ears with gold assets.

“it’s time.” sohee told them, eyes on the watch.

when the clock striked 10a.m, the temple opened.

coming soon...

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enderpearlll · 1 year

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Absolutely loved the bob velseb post! I just want to say thank you cause omg yer writing is so descriptive and i loved that you made it clear that bob is fucked and the reader could lose an arm or two with him. Would def love to see more :D

More Yandere! Bob Velseb headcanons.

I’m glad that you enjoyed the previous set of headcanons for Bob! I’m definitely more than glad to write more ^^

EDIT: I FORGOT A FEW HCS WHILE PORTING THIS OVER OOPS LMAO 😭

TW/CW: Yandere content, cannibalism, sadism, masochism, vivid descriptions of biting/scratching, carving into skin with a knife, blood, murder, etc…

• Bob is very possessive when it comes to you, and doesn't like anyone else laying their filthy hands on his precious darlin'. He likes to mark you up for that reason, and if you'll let him Bob'll gladly carve his initials into your skin where everyone can see. Nothing gets him more excited than seeing you bruised and bitten after a long night together.

• Bob loves to cook for you, and will gladly take the time to make any of your favourite dishes. But be warned that any meat in a dish will be replaced with human meat. He doesn't tell you, of course but it's satisfying to see you fawn over his cooking when he knows damn well what the main ingredient is.

• He also finds it cute when you eat, so he often gives you food or candy to snack on. Bob can't really explain why, but it's oddly adorable just to sit there and watch you eat. (Even though it's creepy to you. He drools while you eat too.)

• He has a massive sweet tooth and a sweet spot for any sort of candy. Bob has a lot of cravings for candy (and human meat) and thinks of you as the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. So he gives you a lot of candy-related pet names. Names like “Bubblegum”, “Gumdrop”, “Sweetie”, “Sweetheart”, etc… Same goes for any pet names related to baked goods as well.

• Now, if you like to bake a lot, Bob will be ecstatic to taste test anything you make. He’s often stealing batter or dough whenever you’re in the kitchen, and will wrap his arms around you and watch whatever you’re doing with awe. Also, did you know blood can substitute eggs in any baking recipe? Bob wants to test this theory out with your own blood, since he thinks it tastes like saccharine.

• Bob, besides his violent oddities and quirks, he is a very domestic man. He dreams of one day settling down with you, adopting or having kids of your own, and being a loving husband to you. But of course, in his own twisted ways. Since he can’t really settle down due to the fact he’s a wanted criminal, Bob can settle for having you to himself for now.

• Now, Bob is willing to kill anyone that hurts you, so if you have any friends or family that are anything less but loving towards you, he’ll kill them with no remorse. Bob’ll be laughing in your face as you sob, thinking that you’re just being irrational. He did the right thing, didn’t he? Come on, he didn’t even eat them! Why would he bother with trash?

• He is a body worshiping man. Bob loves your body with all of his heart, no matter what shape or size you are. If you’re self-conscious or embarrassed of your body, Bob is immediately all over you with affectionate praise and a big smile. He worships your body like crazy, and is offended at the fact that you would even think of your perfect body that way. He’ll kiss and nip at your skin, telling you all the things he loves about you. (He told you that you were the most perfect cut of meat that he’s ever tasted once. Flattering, but also terrifying.)

• Don’t even bring up the idea of breaking up with him. Bob will crack up at the notion of you wanting to leave him. He thinks you’re joking, and will make playful jabs at you for even thinking that way. You ain’t leaving him any time soon, not if he can help it. You’re stuck with him till death do you part.

• Bob has a thing for your scent. It doesn’t matter if you’ve just finished working out, or just got out of the shower, Bob will bury his face in the crook of your neck and indulge in your scent. It’s addictive to him. A lot of your shirts and what not go missing since Bob takes them with him. He can instantly tell if you’re using a new perfume or cologne, hell he can even tell if you’re using a different brand of laundry detergent.

• Bob also gives you his clothes for the purpose of leaving your scent on them, plus the fact that he loves how they look on you. Now, if you’re wearing nothing else under a oversized shirt of his… Bob will pounce on you immediately, ravishing your skin with love bites and the works.

• Bob probably finds it hot if you do the same to him. But unlike you, he has no limits to the amount of pain you put him in. You could give him a playful bite and he will just freeze. You quickly notice his erratic breathing and the drool dripping down his chin as he presses your face into his chest. “Harder.” He even wants YOU to carve your initials in his skin so you could match. He wants you to dig your nails into his skin and bite him until he bleeds.

• Bob wants to be covered in your marks, and he means it. He wants all the bruises, the scratches, the bite marks, everything! Bob wants you to leave a mark on him, loving scars littered across his skin. He thinks it’s romantic and proves that he belongs to you only.

#yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere bob velseb #yandere spooky month #yandere writing #yandere #bob velseb x reader #bob velseb #spooky month x reader #spooky month

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risingshine · 2 months

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A succubus with a cart full of vegetables, meat, eggs, and other ingredients was typing on a smartphone, careful not to let her claws scratch the touch screen. She sent a picture of that morning's sunrise, a striking orange spectacle as the Morninglord's herald peeked over the horizon.

[text] May the Sun guide your travels, son of mine.

She kept staring at her phone as she wheeled the cart around, not paying attention to the other cart, or person, she was about to bump into.

Iyana was probably not supposed to write and text, but she couldn't help herself: she had a few new ideas of how to standerdize blood types, and that isn't something you can hold off on!

Scribbling furiously into her notebook, she didn't even notice that there were someone in the way; shopping cart and all. Next thing she knew though, she felt a bump at her waist, and she flipped right into the produce in a poor woman's inventory.

...how was she going to get out of this one? Unable to look at the victim, she would carefully try to push her self back up to no avail, legs kicking in the air. "...c-can I get some help??"

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matchalovertrait · 2 months

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The entree round begins! Who will cook the best dish? Who will cook the better soup? Find out... not in the next segment.

Previous / Next (Transcript under the cut)

(1.) [Mia] Somebody here did not fully follow the rules of Diced Junior.

(2.) [Carlo] And that would still be Lewis! A producer pointed out to us that Lewis here did not use the vegetables that were in the flatbread. We didn't even notice since the flatbread was so burnt.

(3.) [Lewis] Oh, I was supposed to use EVERYTHING from each basket ingredient? Anyway, thank you for the opportunity, judges.

(4.) [Mia] Thank you, Lewis. Please audition for Diced once you're older. We'd love to see you compete again.

(5.) [Lewis] Well, I already came to terms with being eliminated before they announced it. Maybe I will try Diced someday.

(6.) [Dulce] Bye, Lewis!!

[Alex] You did good, man.

[Rubiya] We'll miss you.

[Lewis] Bye, everyone. Good luck.

(7.) N/A

(8.) N/A

(9.) [Andrea] Chefs, please report back to your stations. Your baskets for the entree round have been placed.

(10.) [Dulce] Wow, they move fast here.

(11.) [Andrea] Inside your baskets, you'll find jicama, hatch green chiles...

(12.) [Andrea] ...goat chops, and chana masala.

(13.) [Rubiya] I'm pleasantly surprised with these ingredients! They won't be hard to combine. However, the real challenge here will be the time limit while using these complex items.

(14.) [Dulce] Yes! My mom is Mexican, so I am very familiar with jicama and chiles. Also, my mom's friend taught me how to cook some Indian dishes, so I know how to work with masalas. I haven't cooked goat yet, but I should be able to figure it out.

(15.) [Alex] I'm happy with the ingredients, just a lil worried about the chiles. Good thing I've cooked goat lotsa times by now.

(16.) [Andrea] Chefs, the 30-minute timer starts now!

(17.) [Rubiya] I'm making chana masala goat tacos with a green chile salsa and jicama dip.

(18.) [Rubiya] Tacos aren't necessarily easy to make, but with my thirty-minute time limit and these beautiful ingredients, this is the way to go! I'll incorporate the ingredients well. If only I could make the tortillas from scratch, but it is what it is.

(19.) [Dulce] I'm making a tomato soup with goat, jicama, chana masala, and hatch green chiles. I'll add sweet potatoes, onion, kidney beans, and green bell peppers.

(20.) [Dulce] There's a lot of things to dice and chop while also making sure the goat and sweet potatoes are thoroughly cooked, but I want to push myself. Also, the judges seemed to really like how I play with many different ingredients, so I want to do that again.

(21.) [Alex] I'm making an egusi soup with cubed goat meat, hatch green chiles, spiralized jicama, and chana masala. My other ingredients are tomatoes, onions, and spinach.

(22.) [Alex] Well, there aren't any egusi seeds here, so I have to use pumpkin seeds instead. I'll keep the name though, it sounds fancier that way.

(23.) N/A

(24.) [Andrea] Judges, any thoughts and opinions so far?

(25.) [Sofia] We love how confident these young contestants are.

[Mia] However, we also noticed how Alex and Dulce are both making soups. Unfortunately, that will make our judging harsher because we are going to have to compare the two.

(26.) [Carlo] Tsk, tsk. They should have thought more outside the box. Also, Dulce really has to watch the time. Andrea, please check on the contestants.

[Andrea] Will do, Carlo!

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lee-aveyourmark · 1 year

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pov: you're doing grocery shopping with nct dream

∘.∙°. masterlist Warnings: mentions of food and eating; physical affection - hugs, kisses, everything to make you cringe

mark Constantly brings up the other Dreamies when finding foods that remind him of them. It's sweet to see how much he cares for them, but when he's stopping every 30 seconds to give a backstory for an item that catches his eye, it's not hard for your pout to come out. Will shut himself up and exert some self-control when he notices your furrowed eyebrows. Nevertheless, you two still end up buying some snacks for the other Dreamies. Likes to share one side of his wireless earphones with you. However, you begin to walk ahead once he's turned up the volume and started grooving to the beat a little too passionately. Your calls for him to stop fall upon deaf ears, and it takes a light pinch to the nape of his neck to remind him that he's at the supermarket with grannies watching him busting moves. Some shopping trips are confidence builders for Mark as you encourage him to avoid premade meals and buy fresh produce to cook with. Giggles and hugs you tightly when you concede to buying more eggs than normal so that he can practice his sunny side up's. Takes pics of you two in front of the safety mirrors and develops an album on his phone from the number of similar photos.

renjun Sings to himself while shopping, and also harmonises along to whatever you're singing without knowing that he's doing so. Spends a considerable amount of time debating different options for each item. Maybe a little too much time, because by the time you've reached the seventh item on your shopping list, you're yawning and thinking about your cosy bed. Is not afraid to ask workers where certain things are. Is also drawn to demonstrations of new kitchen appliances more than food samples. Often ends up overbuying, either because he overestimated the amount needed or because there were many dishes that he wanted to try making but they all called for different ingredients in small amounts. Gets deeply offended when you ask some stranger for help in grabbing something from the top shelf. Literally scoffs to himself, rolls his eyes, places his hands on his hips and glares at you and the stranger from afar. Gives you the silent treatment for two minutes before breaking because he forgot what was the next item on the shopping list which was in your possession. Also breaks when you slide your hand into his and do not let go even when he tries to walk in the other direction.

jeno Judges everything in consideration in reference to Jaemin. Choosing what cut of meat to get? Jeno thinks Jaemin said that this cut was best for its price point. Not sure what brand of matcha powder to buy? Jaemin mentioned one time that this certain brand has a really nice kick, so you should probably get that. Scratches the back of his neck when you put the chosen matcha powder back with an adamant shake of your head, reminding the samoyed that this Jaemin is also the same Jaemin who drinks coffee with six shots of espresso. Most of your shopping trips are done after 11am because Jeno just... loves sleep. If it's before midday, he's shuffling down the aisles in slides and slight bedhead that he tries to cover up with a hood. He's also still bleary-eyed and stifles a yawn while tugging on your sleeve to help him navigate through the store without bumping into anything. Becomes more awake once he munches on some samples. Pushes the cart leisurely with one arm and holds your hand with the other, gently stroking your knuckles. Sneaks candids of you picking things off the shelves and comparing items. Seeing you bite your lip in deep thought makes him want to kiss you so bad, but he'll wait until you're alone. He'll also save the pics for later when he misses you and needs a reminder of home.

haechan Takes turns pushing the cart, but sometimes he'll have a mind of his own and force you to push it against your will while he runs off. There's a 50-50 chance of him making a small toddler cry by smiling at them. Will always opt for the spiciest option there is, and argues that it's the right choice. Tries to convince you by reasoning that you should just learn to eat spicier or dilute your portion with water. When threatening to break up with him because of his stubbornness, he reluctantly swaps for one spice level below and then two upon catching your glare. Picks a random item off the shelf every 5 minutes and makes a cheesy pun about it to flirt with you. More often than not, you just shake your head and continue walking down the aisle with a smile. Suddenly stops you and grabs your face with his hands, staring at you intensely for a brief moment before leaning in with puckered lips. The whine he lets out after you push him away attracts the attention of everyone in the aisle. The only way to get out of the spotlight is to give him a quick peck which turns his whines into a squeal of satisfaction. Proceeds to cuddle his head into your neck while browsing the next two aisles, only retracting when you complain that you can't feel your shoulder anymore.

jaemin Every shopping trip is also a date. This man will convince you to wear a couple's article of clothing to receive coos from elderly women. Will also feed you all the samples there are to offer before trying them himself. Falls head over heels for you for the 138th time when your eyes light up and eyebrows raise in delight at how tasty a sample is. Proceeds to buy half the store's stock of that item. Then, he falls for the 139th time when you push the shopping cart with him, fawning over how cute your hands look next to his. He slips one hand between the space of your two so that your arms are intertwined, before adorning the biggest grin on his face when you link his arm with yours and rest your head on his shoulder. Will buy the ingredients for whatever dish you wanna eat later that day because he's self-assured that he can make the dish. Whenever he lets you pick out groceries, he'll never oppose your selections that go against his personal preference. Instead, he'll try to appreciate your selections or help you fix the dish's taste if your choice turns out to be unfortunate. Peppers your face with kisses once you two return to the car because he found all of your shopping mannerisms adorable, and holds your hand while driving back home.

chenle Probably the only member who'd do groceries in the actual morning. Because Chenle knows what he's looking for, grocery trips average around 30 minutes. That's including time for you to browse and select snacks that weren't originally included on the shopping list. Will go on a rampage and nonstop brag about you when an old lady comments on how sweet your relationship is. Has such a soft spot for the elderly and for children to the point of paying for their groceries if there's a cute family or a lonely grandpa waiting in line behind you two. Also likes to act as your sugar daddy, nonchalantly allowing you to toss two tubs of the most expensive brand of ice cream that the store has to offer into the shopping cart. Shares his music with you, but doesn't seem to be bothered with you listening when he accepts a call and starts talking with a cousin. Continues shopping after the call ends as if nothing happened, asking for input about certain grocery items. Bursts into laughter when he sees you standing stock still with awkwardness written all across your face, your cheeks as red as the bunch of tomatoes in his hand. Can't stop cooing you because of how cute your face was, and soothes you by buying your favourite drink from the cafe next door to the grocery store.

jisung Snacks, snacks and more snacks. 90% of the time Jisung asks you to go to the grocery store with him, it's because he's looking for snacks. Careful but confident when choosing snacks. However, ask him one question about buying actual groceries, and he'll spiral into a deep internal conflicting monologue about the 10 different brands of the one item you're looking for. Nevertheless, you let him and his snack connoisseur antics be because most of the time, his selections turn out to be pretty good. Pops along to whatever song the grocery store is playing, even if it's some old trot tune. Falls behind when stumbling upon a childhood ice cream, proceeding to become lost. Has to roam all the aisles twice before finding you. You're extremely confused when he approaches you with tears in his eyes and hugs your shoulders tightly. Shyly waves to all the toddlers who stare up at him in awe in passing, reaching out with a blush when he misinterprets the child's extended hand for a high-five. Uses his massive hands to bring the groceries to and from the car, and feels proud of himself when he only needs one trip to haul them out.

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explorevenus · 1 year

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I’m curious what you’ll do for this emoji: 🔥

Congrats at 1k!!! You deserve it bestie <3

TEA. I LOVE U.

i feel like this is 100% not what you were imagining when u chose this emoji but idk it just came to me so i ran with it sdjfhdjflidsfijh

context for those of u just joining us: this is part of an ask game where i write a yandere!leon blurb based on emojis in celebration of hitting 1k followers !! requests for this game are closed now. thanks everyone for participating and for being patient while i work through the rest of the emojis my asks <33

tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, fem!reader, daddy kink, pet names, reader is in captivity, leon uses a knife (to cut vegetables but still), extremely brief mention of hypothetical self harm

blurb under the cut !! <3

You were bored. You had begged Leon to just let you sit with him while he made dinner. You needed out of that bedroom, out of that bed, you needed something. Anything.

It didn't take him too long to cave on your request-- after all, he found it quite sweet that you wanted to spend time with him. That you were begging for it. Finally, he relented, taking your hand as he led you downstairs and into the kitchen, lifting you up into the tall chair at the kitchen counter.

"Stay put, okay, princess?" He commanded gently. "Don't want you getting hurt."

You're just cooking dinner, how could I possibly hurt myself? You thought stubbornly, but outwardly, you nodded obediently. "Okay, daddy," You said quietly, a near whisper as you zoned out watching him begin to prepare a meal.

He set a pot on the stove to boil before he started cutting up ingredients, which was satisfying to watch. He had incredible knife discipline. You weren't really sure what he was making, but in all honesty, you didn't care-- he hadn't let you down thus far. Sure, he was crazy, but he was skilled at cooking comfort food from scratch.

You were hypnotized by the sight of his knife slicing through vegetables and trimming meat… until it began to make you a little uncomfortable. You were plagued with the image of what he could do to you with a knife. Squirming in your seat, you let your gaze trail over to the stove, eyes hooking on the bright blue flames that licked over the bottom of the pot of water.

Fire. You thought of what you could do with fire. Burn the house down, injure him horribly, injure yourself horribly… It was an oddly comforting thought. You knew he wouldn't ever let you near an open flame, but hey, a girl can dream, right?

But then you thought of the nice things you could do with fire. Light a candle, curl up by a fireplace, burn some incense… You missed having those small freedoms, things you never even considered would feel like such a distant reality before you wound up here. Leon's rules for you were stifling in ways you could hardly conceptualize, but every day was a reminder.

Leon noticed you were staring, following your gaze to the stove. "What are you thinking about, hm?" He asked softly, handing you a slice of red pepper he'd just cut as a snack.

You snapped out of your daze, taking the vegetable from him without question. "N-Nothing," You stammered. Unconvincing. "I was just zoning out."

"Ah," He nodded, though his eyes were narrowed with suspicion. "Don't get any ideas, little one. It's not safe for you to play with fire."

You forced a weak smile, taking a bite of the sweet red pepper. "I know," You said. "Wasn't planning on it."

#goddess on the mountain top #yandere!leon kennedy #summit of beauty and love #venustext #venus’ 1k special 💗#tea !!!#resident evil #leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader

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lottiecrabie · 1 year

Note

What about cockwarming with line cook matty

is cockwarming in the lottiecrabie brand now😭

your father announced to you a few weeks ago that he was rebranding the franchise, completely scratching the menu and starting anew. you nodded vaguely along, biting on a pink highlighter as you copied a friend’s macroeconomics notes, neck deep in finals.

you should’ve listened more. you’re back at the restaurant for the summer again, and the whole world seems to have shifted beneath your feet. the dining room is skewed, the waitresses are new, and the menu is actually fucking different.

sure, it should be easy to learn, but something childish and petulant digs its heels in your brain, refusing change as it’s already slapped you in the face. you keep forgetting what kind of soups you serve, which ingredients compose the chickpea salad or if there’s parsley in the new green sauce.

thankfully, matty graciously offered to help you memorize it.

which you thought was a line, dabbing perfume on your pulse points and putting on a black lacy underwear under your skirt, entirely forgoing the bra. imagine your surprise when you arrive and the menu is actually printed out, scattered across his kitchen table.

you opt for seduction, kissing his neck and raking your hands through his unmade curls as he reminds you of the ten new entrees. his voice grows rough, but he’s undeterred by your efforts, even when you bite at his earlobe, vaguely humming, metal earring tasting bloody in your mouth.

annoyed, you double down, sitting on his knee and rubbing on his thigh, sighing every time the material of his jeans grazes your clit. still, matty ignores you, going on and on about gluten-free options. you grind quicker in answer, pleasure twisting around your belly, the very beginnings of relief peeking their noses through.

when you let a moan slip out, matty finally snaps. he lets out a groan of annoyance, frowning, unbuckling his belt in jerky moves. thrill climbs up your head. you bite your lip, trying to contain your smile in front of this very grumpy man.

‘you want my fucking dick so bad? there you go. sit on it.’

matty sneaks under your skirt, tossing your underwear aside, lowering you over his hard cock. you gasp, rolling your eyes back in your skull, giggling with striking euphoria. it’s instantaneous relief; it’s shortlived relief.

although you try to raise your hips up, matty presses a hand over one of them and locks you in place. cunt fluttering around him, you’re desperate to start moving already, but he’s unflappable.

‘now where were we?’ you cock your head, frowning at him, working brain swirling down your spine with each second he spends buried so thoroughly inside of you. matty nods. ‘ah, yes. vegan options.’ he tsks, ‘that’s bullshit to me, if you’re asking. a life without meat isn’t worth living.’ he smirks to you, snapping his hips into you once. pleasure immediately blooms in your belly, making you moan pathetically quickly. ‘bet you agree,’ matty continues, smug.

you think it’s it, now. that he’ll start moving. but he looks back to the menu, going over the beans patty, muttering his disdain of it as he does so. you stare at him incredulous. ‘you’re not kidding.’

‘what?’

you give him a deadpanned look, clenching around him. ‘you’re inside of me.’

he looks down at your joined bodies, smirking to himself. ‘yeah.’

again, he says nothing else. ‘so fuck me!’

‘we’re not done yet, princess.’ matty taps your ass in encouragement. ‘i said i was gonna help you.’ your lips narrow in a displeased line. he sees it, rolling his eyes. his fingers pinch your lips. ‘what’s this pout about? you think you deserve to fuck me?’

as if to make your point quite clear, you open your mouth, sucking two of his fingers into it, swirling your tongue around them. he groans, watching in wonder. ‘god, you’re so fucking filthy.’ he slips them out, saliva strings the tips of them. he taps his fingers on your lips, coating them in spit. ‘but i need you to be good and listen. can’t have my favorite waitress falling behind.’

you scowl, but let him talk your ears off about this godforsaken menu, which is officially your worst enemy. the act of paying attention is almost torturous when he’s this hard and big inside of you, unfairly still. when he reaches for a faraway paper, his cock digs into a sinful spot of you, and the shock is tectonic. your face breaks open. you drip on him, growing impossibly wetter through each minute move. your face flushes, falling into his shoulder, quietly mewling as he explains the desserts.

matty does manage to make the lesson engaging. when he’s finally done monologuing, he asks you to recite back the menu. the first few meals are hard to recall, but you get quite involved in this memorizing act once he starts rewarding a correct answer with slow circles on your clit, growing in rapidity every time you get one more right.

he takes your shirt off, throwing it on the floor carelessly. your naked breasts, pebbled from the razing pressure building inside of you, press against his chest. every time it rubs against his shirt, a shiver runs down your spine.

your breaths fall in quick successions, panting through the meal descriptions. the quicker he rubs at you, the harder it is to remember, the further away your orgasm seems to be. your eyebrows knit together, desperately trying to recall the last ingredient of the shrimp pasta.

you clench uselessly around him, over and over, practically begging for him to just fuck you. he doesn’t budge, cooing and encouraging even as you stumble on your words. his free hand rakes through your sweaty curls, pushing them beyond your shoulder, falling down to your nipples to twist one. you cry, scrunching your face close, mind wiping with any sense of coherence.

still, matty asks you to recall the twelve dessert options, and you think you might melt on him from the effort. small rolls of your hips start absentmindedly, and matty lets you have them indulgently.

when you finally name the very last cherry, matty grins down at you proudly, pinching your clit and biting down at a nipple. the orgasm wrecks you thoroughly in an instant, already unfairly close to your fingertips. you grin loosely, head falling back as you scream his name.

‘fuck, princess, you did so good,’ matty smiles. ‘was that so hard? is it so difficult being my good girl?’ you shake your head. ‘you deserve a treat.’

matty grips you by the waist. still buried deeply into you as he pushes off the menu, dropping you on the now free table. he doesn’t waste anytime; he fucks frantically into you, quick and hard as you cry for him, gripping his hand.

and, sure, now you know the menu front and back by heart. but you can’t say a single item off of it without blushing to your roots.

you wonder if matty did it on purpose.

#i own christianity chefs and cockwarming now #the crabie starter pack #linecook!au #blurb #ask #also this is kind of spoiling linecook lore a little🤭#smut

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