#Yes he still make his own bread and has chicken

[achillesuwu]

Post-return arthur that is so bored that he tries to make some food but he falls miserably because 99% of merlin house work with magic.

Electricity? Gas? Plumbing? Merlin never heard of her. The only non-magical technology in his house is an "cat" (*cough*dragon) toy that his new baby dragon wanted. That's it.

Arthur that got locked outside because the house was cross with him.

Arthur that tried once (1) to go into merlin office and— (Arthur : *glare*we don't talk about it) hem, never went alone in it ever again (hegotbluehairandturnedintoafrog.simultaneously)

Merlin house being strange enough to keep arthur entertained (by frustration) but also familiar enough in its lack of technology to not overwhelmed Arthur

[demonic0angel]

Random idea of Jazz and Jason living on a farm in the country together. Caring for the animals, making their own food, domestic sunsets on the porch.

(*starts tap dancing in joy* this got very long lmaooo)

Jason stared into the horizon, as the sun began to set, casting the world into golden yellow and fire red hues. He was still standing, just holding his scythe in one hand as he heard the rustle of wheat behind him.

Jazz stood next to him, watching the sky alongside him before she turned and leaned against his shoulder. "You shouldn't stare into the sun."

Jason hummed. He wrapped an arm around her and finally peeled his eyes away from the approaching nightfall. He kissed her forehead and said, "I know. Shall we go inside?"

She nodded and they walked together back to their home, a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. A barn and a mill were also nearby, providing them with more food. They were surrounded by fields on two sides, a large stretch of forest on the other, and a river weaving in between. Shadow was waiting for them at the door, their tail wagging as it watched them approach.

Jason closed the door when they were all inside, locking the several chains and deadbolt locks. Jazz closed all of their windows and blinds. Shadow disappeared in and out of their namesake, hopping in every dark corner of their home before coming back, confirming that it was safe and locked tight.

When they were done, Jazz pushed him to his seat and began dishing out food. He smiled at the sight of her bringing out the pheasant he had hunted on a plate, before she brought bowls of soup and bread over.

"Has anything happened while I was taking care of the fields?" He asked.

Jazz paused and then nodded. "Yes. I saw a straggler, so I killed them before anything could happen. They were in the woods, and I think they were alone, but I can't guarantee it."

Jason's heart sped up a beat at the thought of Jazz being alone while a straggler had been far too close to them, before he took a deep breath and calmed down.

"Alright. If that's true, we should comb through the woods one more time to make sure it's clean. I don't want anything to ambush us."

Jazz nodded. He reached over to brush her hair from her face and lay a kiss on her forehead. She smiled and he relaxed at the happiness on her face before they both went back to eating.

"What about you?" She asked. "How's the fields? And livestock?"

"Our chickens are doing well," he said thoughtfully. He looked down at his food and praised, "You've outdone yourself again, princess. This tastes amazing."

Jazz beamed again. Jason continued, "I think we have enough food to last us awhile. I'm not sure what winter is going to look like, but when we investigate the woods, we can look into the nearby towns and see if there's anything left to salvage."

Jazz nodded. Then she began slowly, "By the way... about Alfred..."

Jason paused, eyes wide. He looked at her and her expression was worried. "What about him? Did he get out? Did he do something to you?"

Jazz looked at her soup, mostly watery with carrots and potatoes and the barest amounts of herbs. "... he spoke to me today. He called me Miss Gordon."

Jason couldn't help his intake of breath and the hand reaching out to cover his mouth. "What?! But— But isn't he supposed to be..?!"

She nodded quickly. "That's what I thought too. But I think, he's either starting to remember things and might've recognized my hair or... or he's learning to imitate human speech." She winced from her words, but Jason didn't really notice.

He was thinking of the possibilities.

Ever since that faithful day, it had only been him, Jazz, and Shadow all on their own. Shadow had helped them both get away from the chaos and deaths, but they were pretty much isolated. All they knew was that the entire world had gone to shit and no one could reach them.

He had no idea if his family or friends were okay. Not even Jazz could reach out to her own family. She had no idea what was happening, and all they had was each other.

Things hadn't really changed even when Alfred had stumbled onto the slice of paradise and peace Jason had carved out for himself and Jazz. They had to lock him in the basement, but since there was nothing they could do about his condition, this was their only way of handling it without killing him for good.

Jason focused back on Jazz, who was nearly wilting from some misplaced sense of guilt. He reached out again to hold her hand, squeezing as he said, "I don't blame you for anything, Jazz. No matter what he says... protect yourself first, okay? Your safety matters most to me. I think for now, let's just continue observing him."

She nodded. Jason turned to Shadow and asked, "Hey, could you keep an eye on Alfred for me? If he does anything or gets out, wake us up."

The ancient looked up and nodded, and that was settled. Dinner continued in quiet chatter as the tension eased, and eventually they prepared for bed.

Jason had never expected to live such a strange life of domesticity.

As night fell and Jazz slept in his arms with her long limbs wrapped around him like an octopus, Jason could not help but marvel at the situation, in a house with the woman he loved, peaceful and without any heroics, with his grandfather in the house somewhere too (although Alfred was not really the same.)

Even if the world was ending, with the people he loved most around him, Jason did not feel worried.

His eyes began to droop.

Soon, he too fell asleep. As the world around them continued to move, Jason felt secure in his bed with Jazz in his arms and Shadow curled up by their feet.

The earth would continue spinning.

[ghostfaceprincess]

Them Cooking For You For The First Time:

-

TW: Language.

-

Michael Myers:

• I mean… he really did try.

• Surprisingly decent, it’s just a little burnt.

• He decided on steak and mashed potatoes.

• Hey, he’s proud of himself. 🤷🏻‍♀️

-

Freddy Krueger:

• Used his glove to cut up everything; and I do mean everything. The meat, the veggies, etc.

• He decided on chicken pasta with salad as a side.

• The pasta is cooked perfectly.

• He pairs it with a nice wine. 10/10.

-

Jason Voorhees:

• He… tried.

• It’s supposed to be spaghetti…

• Hey, the garlic bread is good though!

• Maybe you should do all the cooking and he’ll do the dishes.

-

Billy Loomis:

• He surprised you! The food is so good!

• He made chicken with mac and cheese, corn bread, and green beans.

• He did not make dessert though.

• He was hoping you could be dessert. 😏

-

Stu Macher:

• THIS MAN CAN COOK IDC WHAT ANYBODY HAS TO SAY

• A full meal plus dessert.

• Everything is cooked and seasoned perfectly.

• Yes, you heard me, s e a s o n e d.

-

Charles Lee Ray:

• He gave up before he even started.

• He ordered Chinese takeout and then plated it.

• He also paired it with beer.

• He didn’t think about dessert.

-

Tiffany Valentine:

• Oh, she went all out!

• She made you like four different meals and desserts to go with them.

• “I just wanted you to have options.” What a cutie!

• “The rest can just be meal prep!”

-

Bubba Sawyer:

• He made you the beeeeeest fucking soup you’ve ever had. Well, it’s more like a gumbo, but still.

• He made dessert as well; just classic chocolate chip cookies.

• He did ask his brothers for help.

• He smiles proudly as he presents it to you.

-

Thomas Hewitt:

• Did everything all on his own.

• Made ribs with fries.

• Literal 10/10.

• He knows how to add some flavor!

-

Art the Clown:

• Cook?

• Yeah, no. He gets take out and does not try to take credit for it.

• He does plate it very nicely though.

• Pats your head as he hands you your plate.

-

The Creeper:

• He let you pick what he made.

• And he did it perfectly too!

• There’s so much seasoning and flavor.

• Though, he can’t perfect all meals. Just this one and a few others.

-

Thanks for reading! 🦇🖤

[additiva]

There's some really lovely asks in my inbox which I've been holding onto because life has been hard recently. But thank you thank you thank you I love you, and here's a little snip from the a/b/o fic for your patience and love.

Below the cut ->

Someone on the internet has to know more than him about this whole.. thing.

-----

On Thursday afternoon, Max stashes himself away in a corner of the hospitality, demolishing a sandwich with one hand and clicking on his laptop with the other.

Sexuality.

Max is an expert on his own sexuality. He’d figured it out the usual way. The way everyone did, he’d thought.

With Charles, it doesn’t seem so simple.

Then, with Charles, nothing has ever been simple.

He navigates to Google, and taps out his query.

Is my--.

His what? There's no way to describe their relationship at the moment. He clicks his nails on the mouse pad, thinking. Best to keep it simple probably.. even if it's not really accurate.

Is my boyfriend gay?

A thousand results pop up, unhelpfully summarised by Google’s shitty AI as: probably.

Max clicks his tongue, irritated, and scrolls through the available results.

I caught my boyfriend with another—nope.

Why does my (24O) boyfriend (25A) keep watching alpha-alpha por—nope.

My boyfriend has started borrowing my clothes. Is he—nope.

Max clicks his tongue with dissatisfaction; okay, he needs to be more specific.

He contemplates, then tries again.

How to know sexuality

That proves more fruitful.

Specifically, it brings up a quiz. Max clicks into it, setting down his sandwich to slide his laptop to the close edge of the table.

Max scrolls through the questions. He can answer these for Charles, he’s pretty sure.

For the next few minutes, he reads intently, thinking hard, trying to put himself in Charles’ mindset.

He picks up his sandwich again, and takes another big bite.

Too big.

A chunk of lettuce topples to the floor.

No. Max complains unintelligibly around his mouthful of bread and chicken.

Fuck.

He pushes the laptop back to stand, and slouches over to an adjacent table to steal the napkin someone’s left unattended there.

The movement inconveniently draws Christian’s attention, and he catches Max to discuss the afternoon’s PR engagements.

Max nods along, fairly disinterestedly, and having secured the napkin, makes a beeline back to the mess he’s left on the floor. The lettuce has some sort of dressing on it, and it’ll be disgusting if it starts soaking into the carpet. He waves Christian along with him, giving only the barest of responses as he bends down to collect the lettuce and scrub haphazardly at the floor.

Reasonably pleased with his efforts, he stands, and doesn’t notice that Christian’s gone quiet.

When Max turns back to him, his eyes are wide, and locked on the still-bright laptop screen.

Have you been confused about your sexuality for a long time? The question prompts.

Yes. Max has very clearly selected.

He lurches forward to snap the lid shut.

There was nothing on the screen to expose Charles, but it still feels sort of.. private.

“Uh, sorry about that.” He offers mildly, passing Christian to drop the dirty napkin into a bin.

That done, he comes to stand by the table again, fishing in his brain for some recollection of what Christian was trying to tell him.

“So anyway, interview later? At two?”

Christian seems to thaw a little, shaking himself out of some brain fog.

“Three, actually. In the garage. But Max--.”

“Okay, three.” Max parrots, taking out his phone to make a note. “In the garage. I will be there. Thanks. Anything else?” He sort of wants to finish his sandwich. He needs to meet GP soon.

Christian watches him carefully.

“No, that’s all.” He turns to walk away, then hesitates. “Max, I—is everything okay?”

Max has just taken another bite, and slows his chewing, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yes? With me? I am fine, why?”

Christian gestures minimally to the laptop.

They both look toward its closed lid, then back at one another.

Oh.

“Oh!” Max hurries to explain, tripping over his words. “No, this was not for me. This was for.. someone else. I, of course, am straight.” Mostly. Mostly straight.

Christian nods slowly, frowning.

“Well, Max, you know it would be fine, if—if you were. I know it can be difficult, with the media…”

Max appreciates the sentiment. But it’s unnecessary, and he’s actually sort of running late.

“Okay, thanks. I’m not, though. I’m just—I’m fine. I’m normal. Also, I have to go, sorry.”

Normal, he berates himself immediately. Why did he say that? Stupid.

He grabs the laptop off the table, tucking it under his arm, the sandwich secure in his other hand. He needs to meet GP in a few minutes, and he’ll get pissy if Max is late.

As he turns to say goodbye, Christian catches him again, with a clap on the shoulder, voice very gentle.

“It’s also okay if you’re not ready to talk about it. But if you ever need to, I hope you know you can talk to me.”

Max stares, alarmed and trying to figure out how to detangle himself.

“Thank you, but there is nothing to talk about, actually.” Christian nods, looking vaguely concerned, but finally lets him go.

Max goes, and puts the whole thing out of his head, satisfied that Charles’ secret is safe.

-----

Ok that's it. Just a silly bit. Come whisper in my asks or my dms 🤍

[annaphoenix1994]

Price and Evie

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

After Soap had given his information to the saleswoman about the ring, he avoided his embarrassment by offering to pay for lunch. Choosing a local cafe, they were seated at a booth next to a window in the corner of the restaurant, Simon keeping Kiera on the inside of the booth so that he could keep an eye on the point of entry just in case he needed to offer protection. "I'll be right back, L.T. I'm going to go find a restroom." 

"Alright." 

"If the waitress comes back and asks for drinks, just get me a water." 

Simon nodded, watching Soap leave before he turned to Kiera, "I'm going to help him out with the ring." 

She grinned, "And to think you've always despised him."

"Some of the shite he does drives me up a wall," He chuckled. "But I want the best for him and Teeter makes him happy. The least I can do is help him out." 

"I think that's a good idea, babe," She encouraged. "He's been talking about proposing for a long time." 

"Trust me, it's been the topic of our conversations for months." He scoffed. 

"Has he told you how he was going to do it?" 

"He said something about taking her on a trail ride to somewhere she said she loved to see. Some overlook. He said he wanted to take all of us on this ride so that we'll all see it and that she wouldn't suspect anything, and he wants either me or you to pretend to take their picture but really be filming the entire time to catch the proposal on video." 

"That's so cute!" 

"He'll probably chicken out," He chuckled. "I thought I was going to when I proposed." 

"You seemed like you had it all under control." She hummed. 

"Trust me, I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest." 

"Well, I can say that you definitely pulled it off." 

"That was the goal, love." 

"Hello! My name is Nancy and I'll be your server this afternoon. What can I get you two to drink?" The waitress smiled, blonde hair framing her face as she clutched her notepad. 

"She'll have a Dr. Pepper, and I'll have a water," Simon answered. "Oh, I'll need another water, too." 

"Okie dokie. Do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu?" 

"Yes, please." 

"Okay, I'll go get those drinks and be right back with some bread for you. Any lemon for the water?" 

"No thanks." 

She nodded before turning on her heel to retrieve her customer's request, Soap returning before she could return. 

"Thought we lost ya." Simon poked.

"Yeah, I was beginning to think that you fell in." Kiera giggled. 

"Holy hell," Soap chuckled, shaking his head. "Had to drop a bomb if you know what I mean." 

"Fuckin' hell, Soap. We're about to eat." 

"What? It's not like you two have a weak stomach." 

"We might." 

"I doubt that. With all the shite we've seen, hearing about me dropping a deuce should be the least of your worries." 

Kiera felt Simon's leg bouncing up and down impatiently under the table, knowing that he felt empty without the presence of their children to accompany them. He knew that it wasn't such a bad thing to take a brief break from constantly tending to his children knowing that they were in good hands, but in a way, he felt guilty and selfish - he felt like he had pawned them off just so he and Kiera could spend time together. The more he thought about it, the more he worried about their honeymoon, wanting to make it special for Kiera, but knowing he'd be unable to worry about being too far away from their children possibly more than how Kiera would. 

Once their food came, Soap wasted no time in digging in while Simon barely touched his food, still not used to eating as much at a certain time of day due to his former military agenda. Kiera didn't eat as much either as her appetite wasn't as big as it used to be, resorting to just a simple chicken sandwich and fries, sitting back in the booth after finishing the sandwich, blushing at the sensation of Simon's palm cupping her knee, craving her warmth to soothe his own anxiety. 

Simon's eyes darted towards the sound of a baby crying, immediately hoping that either of his children haven't cried since they had left them with Kiera's parents before his attention turned to Kiera after hearing her gasp. "What's wrong, love?" 

He watched her complexion change to embarrassment, clutching her jacket over her chest as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Let's just say my body is reacting to hearing a baby crying..." 

He furrowed his brows at her explanation, following her hand as she moved her jacket to show him the damp area of her shirt. 

"What happened?" 

"It's a letdown reflex." She sighed, embarrassed. 

"What's that? Do we need to leave?" His tone was low and concerned, never hearing about a letdown reflex before, but slowly putting the pieces together that Kiera had begun to leak her own breastmilk at the sound of another baby crying. 

"Soon, but I'll have to pump as soon as we get home." She replied, leaning closer to him to whisper her response into his ear. 

"What happened, K?" Soap asked, his eyes on his phone screen as he had been checking in on Teeter, texting her to let her know - more like ask - if they'd like to play Big Chief later.

"I-It's nothing," She replied. "Just... New mom things." 

"Oh, okay."

She kept her jacket clutched over her chest as she zipped it closed, resting her elbow on the table out of embarrassment, her face flushing as Simon had put his hand on her knee, rubbing small and reassuring circles against the fabric of her pants with his thumb. 

»»-------¤-------««

Kiera couldn't help but giggle as she noticed Simon's impatient driving on the way back to the ranch. He was desperate to get home to his babies. Kiera was, too, except she felt she was able to wrap her head around the fact that she was able to take a brief break while knowing her babies were in safe hands while they were away. The drive was nearly silent once Simon had turned the truck onto the road that led to the driveway to the ranch. "I hope they've been on their best behavior for your mum." He sighed. 

"They're babies, L.T.," Soap snickered from the backseat of the truck, tucked between the two car seats. "They're either sleeping or eating from a bottle. I'm sure I could watch them with no issues." 

Simon scoffed, "It'll be a cold day in Hell before I trust you with our children." 

"Why?" 

"I don't want their first words to be shite or fuck, and I especially don't want my son to have a mohawk by the time he turns two." 

"You are stone cold, Simon." Soap chuckled, knowing that Simon was exactly right when it came to his children accidentally learning a curse word with their vulnerable and sponge-like brains. 

"Gladly." 

"Would you at least consider it, though?"

"No." He huffed. 

"Who's going to watch them when you and K go on your honeymoon?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." He grumbled. 

"Is it bad that I haven't thought about planning our wedding yet?" She giggled. 

"Not bad at all, love. Take your time." 

"I love weddings," Soap said excitedly, leaning forward to where his face was too close for comfort. "Do you at least have colors in mind?" 

She sighed, "I was thinking about having our wedding in the fall. Where the colors are so pretty and it's not too hot outside. I was thinking about the colors being like a maroon or burgundy." 

"I like that, K."

"Me too. I'm leaning closer to burgundy because it's one of Simon's favorite colors." She admitted, glancing over at him to watch his face tighten with a grin at her admittance. 

"I figured it would be black," Soap scoffed playfully. "It's a shock to know that he likes another color besides black." 

"Just full of surprises, Johnny." He huffed. 

"I bet you have a red room in y'all's house." 

"A what? And y'all? Speak fuckin' English." 

"You know what a red room is, L.T.," He smirked. "Don't act like you don't know. And y'all means you all put together."

"Let me guess, you learned that from Teeter?" 

He breathed a laugh, "I've learned a lot from that lass. So much that I'm putting a ring on it so I can learn a lot more." 

"Fuckin' hell," Simon grumbled, rolling his eyes as Kiera began to giggle at their antics. "I regret even asking." 

"You still didn't answer my question." 

"What question?" 

"That you have a red room." 

"No, we don't." 

"Thought you didn't know what a red room was, L.T.?" He snickered.

Simon grumbled as he put the truck in park, removing the key from the ignition before getting out to walk around the front of the truck and opening the door for Kiera, offering his hand for her to take, her grip tightening as she sorely moved her weight onto her feet. "Alright, love?" 

"Yeah," She sighed. "I wish I wasn't so sore." 

"You're working on getting better. Those exercises have been helping." 

"They have. Although I do miss when you help me stretch." 

"I can fix that." He smirked. 

"Hey! You gonna open the door for me too, L.T.?" They heard Soap shout from the backseat. 

"You have two hands." 

"The door is locked!" 

"It's called a child lock, Johnny." Simon grumbled. 

"But I'm not a child!" 

"I beg to differ." 

The couple watched as Soap grumbled to himself, moving to where he pulled himself over the console and out through the passenger side, keeping his feet tucked to avoid scuffing the leather seats with his shoes as Simon stepped aside to open the rear door purposefully. 

"Really? You wait until I found my way out to open the door?" 

"Delayed timing." He shrugged, a smirk threatening to appear on his face, amused. 

Kiera shook her head at their bickering, rolling her eyes as Simon locked the truck, offering his arm for her to grab as he escorted her towards her parent's lodge with Soap splitting off to search for Teeter after seeing she had texted him back regarding his request:

»»-------¤-------««

Once Kiera and Simon entered the lodge, they were greeted by the warm smell of apple cider and a ham that was cooking in Eva's crockpot. Immediately, Simon's eyes scanned the interior of the lodge, searching for the precious beings Kiera had given him to obsess over. Eva smiled from the kitchen, wiping the flour from her hands onto her apron before approaching her daughter with a warm smile and open arms. "Dinner should be ready in a few hours," Eva smiled, kissing Kiera's cheek. "I'm making honey ham, mashed potatoes, macaroni for your continuous cravings, and some sugar cookies to accommodate Simon's sweet tooth." She explained excitedly as she walked past her to greet Simon, seeing the relief in his eyes now that he was able to see his children. 

"Sounds good, momma," Kiera smiled. "Where's our little ones?" 

"Jacob is down for a nap in your father's lap and Evie is being spoiled by Simon's Captain." 

Kiera felt Simon's shoulders tense out of jealousy instead of anger. "Where is he?" 

"He's in the living room with Bud."

Simon nodded, his fingers grazing the small of Kiera's back before he escorted himself into the living room, seeing Price smiling down at the infant in his arms, his free hand holding the pacifier comfortably in her mouth with his index finger at the base of the nipple, Price not yet sensing Simon's presence coming near, Simon hearing Price's soothing words that calmed his anxiousness about someone else tending to his children. 

In fact, he grew to appreciate it. 

"Look just like your father, little lass. You're going to break some hearts when you get older." He grinned down at her, admiring at the perfection in his arms, making him wish he had a child of his own. 

"She's forbidden to have a boyfriend." Simon commented as he took a seat in the empty chair across from the couch Price was sitting on, keeping his tone low as Bud was fast asleep with Jacob nestled between Bud's leg and the arm of the recliner, snug and secure as he slept - pacifier between his lips and Bud's index finger clasped in Jacob's little hand.

"I have a feeling that she's going to be a firecracker like her mum," Price chuckled, glancing towards Simon. "If that's the case, you're going to be running a muck, mate." 

He huffed, "I already have my hands full with Kiera. Last I need is to see her grow up and have boys begging her to take her on a date." He grimaced at the thought, dreading the day that Evie would come home to say she has a crush on a boy that possibly likes her back - going on her first date, going through her first heartbreak, her first post-relationship depression, losing her self-esteem - everything. He couldn't stand the thought, knowing it would hurt him just as much as it did to see Kiera go through her depression and tears. 

"You know it's going to happen, mate," Price chuckled. "But you have several years to prepare for it." 

"Thanks for the assurance." Simon scoffed, tapping the heel of his foot against the wood floor out of anxiousness and impatience. 

"It's what I'm here for," He chuckled, adjusting the blanket around Evie's little shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Simon."

The words caused his neck to straighten and goosebumps erect on his forearms. He's proud of me? "You are?" 

"Of course. I've known you for years as a man who only had one mission: to get things done. I never saw you as someone who would let someone else tear down those walls you've worked so hard to put up. But look at you now: a family man and significant other to someone dear to you. You managed to turn your whole life around." 

He nodded subtly, accepting the compliment from a person who had a major impact on his life as, aside from Kiera, Price had been the only other person to see Simon during his worst times, being there to be a listening ear for when Simon needed someone to talk to. "T-Thank you. I owe you and Kiera a lot for listening to my heartaches-"

"You don't owe us anything. Seeing you happy is enough for me, especially spending time with these little ones." He smiled, his heart swelling at the sensation of Evie's mouth clasping over his finger that held the pacifier securely in place, letting him know that she was either dreaming or growing hungry, a slight grumble leaving her little mouth. 

Simon's lips spread into a grin. 

He watched as Price turned his head to look over the back of the couch, watching Kiera help her mother in the kitchen as they playfully tossed flour at each other. "How is she doing?" He mouthed. 

"Still sore from the C-Section. Had a bit of postpartum depression and am afraid that she still does."

"Still having the night terrors?" 

"Rarely now, thankfully," He sighed, keeping his voice low to avoid waking her father who was sleeping in his recliner nearby, not wanting him to overhear and worry about his daughter. "She's more open about it now and I think it's been helping."

"Good. I've been keeping her in my thoughts. How are you doing?"

He sighed, "Barely had any nightmares. Can't remember when I had the last one. And honestly, I've slept better since the babies were born." 

"I think it's because you feel complete with yourself." 

"It's because I feel like I've found my purpose."

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS ZERO Animate Tokuten Drama CD “A Vampire’s Late Night Snack Terror” [Reiji ver.]

Original title: 夜更かしヴァンパイアの食テロ飯 [レイジ編]

Source: Diabolik Lovers ZERO Vol. 8 Animate Tokuten CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Katsuyuki Konishi

Translator’s note: Honestly, Reiji deserves so much more respect than what he gets. Not only does this man get up early to get chores done because his other five brothers won’t do jack-shit, he even goes out of his way to do extra groceries and make a first-class breakfast for his girl. I feel like most of the other Diaboys could barely even toast a piece of bread without burning it lol. 

*Cling cling*

You enter the kitchen.

“...Hm? What is the matter? It is still too early to be getting up.” 

You ask him why he is up already.

“Unlike the other people at this home, I happen to have an extensive to-do list, so I must get started with all of my chores early, or else I will regret it afterwards. ーー More importantly, you mentioned something about not being able to sleep? If you are feeling unwell, I can get you some medicine.”

You explain.

“Do not tell me...You cannot sleep because of the hunger? How unfortunate...I cannot believe your stomach is growling despite getting three proper meals a day. You should know better.”

You apologize. 

“Well, I shall forgive you this once. I suppose it is partially my responsibility as well for not looking after you better. ーー I suppose it cannot be helped. We still have time before we have to leave to school, so I shall make you an early breakfast.”

You seem excited. 

“Yes. If you have any requests, go ahead. As you should be aware, I am quite confident in my own cooking abilities. No matter how complex or luxurious of a dish, I will prepare it to perfection. Well then, what is your order?”

You make your request.

“What did you...say just now?”

You repeat it.

“You are asking me to make...tamagogake-gohan, out of all things? You crack a raw egg (1) over the rice, add some soy sauce and you’re done. You want me to go out of my way to make something so simple?”

You ask him if he won’t make it. 

“No, I never said that I will not make it. ...Very well! I shall show you what a real plate of eggs over rice looks like!”

*Thud*

“In which case, we must first gathered the necessary ingredients. There is no time to lose! I shall call the limousine at once. Off we go!”

You seem surprised.

“What are you doing!? Come on, make haste!”

*TIMESKIP*

*Clatter clatter*

*Rustle*

“It is truly a blessing that there are stores which are still open in the middle of the night.”

You offer to pay for the parking fee since he has his hands full with the groceries.

“That would be a big help. This is the money. Here you go.”

 You ask Reiji what is inside the bags in his arms. 

“Excuse me? Can you not tell? They’re bags of rice. There’s high-quality rice inside.”

You seem surprised.

“You came along not even realizing why we took the car? Haah...You truly need to do something about how slow-witted you are. One cannot cook without the right ingredients, so we shall we going around to gather all of the necessary things. ーー The very best ones available!

Tamagogake-gohan consists of a perfectly balanced combination of eggs, soy sauce and rice with each ingredient being brought to its full potential. We cannot afford skimping on any of them. ...I happen to be a regular at this store, you see. The rice sold at this store has been selected by a rice connoisseur of which only a few exist in this country, so it is of the highest quality!”

You tilt your head to the side.

“You do not even know what a ‘rice connoisseur’ is...? Take should be common knowledge. Make sure to do your research afterwards, understood? Anyway, we are headed for the chicken farm next. I know it is quite late, but I am sure I can arrange something by using my connections.”

You frown.

“Why the hesitation? We are talking about the eggs which are the main star of the dish! I will not make any compromises!”

*Rustle*

“No more dawdling! Let’s go!”

*TIMESKIP*

The two of you return home.

*Thud*

“...Haah. That ended up taking more time than I anticipated.”

You admit being glad that you’re finally done. 

“What nonsense are you spouting? We finally gathered all necessary ingredients! If we’re ‘done’, why did we get these fresh ingredients in the first place? But we must make haste, or else the others will wake up.”

*Rustle*

“To the kitchen at once! We shall start cooking!”

The two of you go to the kitchen.

“We shall start by cooking the rice. I believe that I can skip over the instructions for this one.”

Reiji gets the rice cooker started. 

*Beep*

“Next we must choose which bowl to serve it in.”

You ask if that is important.

“Why of course. A high class meal is not only defined by the food itself. One must choose a plate which will truly bring the dish to life.” 

*Cling cling*

“Let me think...Usually I would go for something a little more ‘art nouveau’, but how about we use this bowl today? I am glad I decided to purchase this one for moments like this.”

You note that it is quite plain.

“What are you saying? A plain bowl is a fine piece of silverware as well! Just look at the gloss and pattern, simply marvelous!”

You raise one brow.

“Why are you giving me that look? I do understand that I might sound rather out-of-character right now, but look at it like this. I even went out of my way to buy a home-style takoyaki grill to hold a takoyaki party at home, so I must keep the name of the Sakamaki household high. ...More importantly, we should finish setting the table before the rice is done cooking. Well then, please lend me a hand.”

*TIMESKIP*

Reiji opens the rice cooker.

“It turned out rather nicely. The rice looks shiny and has the right amount of fluffiness to it. As to be expected of a dish made with a product from a true rice connoisseur!”

You point out that his glasses have fogged up. 

“Do not worry about my glasses being fogged up. It is only natural for this to happen when exposed to hot steam.”

*Cling cling*

“More importantly...Let us get started! ...Allow me to show you my skills! ーー I shall start by scooping the fluffy rice into the bowl. Rather than filling it to the brim, I will serve a moderate portion. This is the most elegant way to serve it. Then on top I will sprinkle some cod roe, dried seaweed and yuzu salt. ...It would be rather boring to stick to the basic recipe, no? This is my personal interpretation of the dish, do not worry. I can assure that it will taste sublime.”

He cracks an egg.

“Well then, last but not least we crack in a fresh, raw egg and pour some of this special soy sauce on top. ーー It is done. This is the Sakamaki household’s version of tamagogake-gohan!”

*Thud*

“Well then, here you go. Please dig in while it is hot.”

 You take a bite.

“How is it?”

You tell him that it’s delicious. 

“Why of course. It is a dish which was carefully crafted to bring out all of the aromas, flavors and textures to their fullest after all. The rich eggs and the deep flavor of the soy sauce go perfectly with the fluffy rice. However, right when you think that it might be a little blend and one-toned, the cod roe, seaweed and yuzu salt kick to add a new flavor profile so you never get tired of eating it. 

This is how tamagogake-gohan should be. Do you comprehend?”

You nod.

“Pleasing your palate is child’s play. ...Well then, usually I would go wake up the others around this hour, but I suppose we can postpone it a little for today.”

You ask Reiji if he will have breakfast as well.

“Yes, I figured this was a fine opportunity for me to enjoy a meal alongside you. You could say this is my award for all the hard work I put in. You do not mind, do you?”

He joins you at the table.

“Usually there is always someone making a fuss. I rarely ever get the chance to enjoy a meal in peace. In that regard, perhaps I should be grateful to you. However, make sure to warn me before you get peckish, okay?”

You nod.

“Very well. Let us dig in then.”

*Cling*

“...Mm. I suppose having a meal together with just the two of us like this is quite enjoyable every now and then.”

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Raw eggs are commonly consumed in Japan since the country has no history of salmonella being found in eggs. By cracking the egg on top of steaming-hot rice and instantly mixing it together, the heat from the rice will also slightly cook the egg, so it’s not 100% raw when you eat it. Still, the consistency of the dish is quite ‘goopy’ - for lack of a better word - so I understand why a lot of people (myself included) would not find it very appetizing. :p

[felinisnoctis]

Bonded Pairs: Food and Fondness

Zariel belongs to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan and Cedric is @sleepyfan-blog's of course. They're a good apothecary duo.

And of course @nightshade-victorian for the bonded boys.

Tags: @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams

“Hi, I need to speak to Apothecary Zariel?”  The ultramarine at the desk eyed the baseline human standing in front of him.  They were carrying a large cooler that to astartes senses smelled of meat and bread and onions.  “I have a delivery for some of his patients.” It was late, and the waiting room was nearly empty.

“Please have a seat in the visitor lounge, I will ask him to come down when he has a moment.”  The ultramarine sent a quick message off to the apothecary, who came down to the lounge after several minutes.  “I have a break in my rounds?  Oh, that smells good.”

Robin nodded.  “I made some astartes-sized chicken pot pies for Gerhardt and Asariel, if it’s ok for them to have.  There’s a couple marked for you and the other staff here too.  They’ll just need heating up real quick before you eat them, I made sure to make them in cardboard trays so they can be microwaved.”

Zariel smiled.  He’d already deduced that this baseline was bonded to Gerhardt, and it looked like the bond was settling in well.  “I’m sure they’ll be happy to know you’ve been thinking about them.  And thank you for thinking of us apothecaries as well, I’ll be sure to deliver these appropriately.”

He lifted the styrofoam cooler onto one shoulder and headed back towards Gerhardt’s room, smacking away the hands of some of his grabbier brothers on the way.  “These are for my patients, not for you.  You’re not suggesting that you’d like to take food away from your injured brother-cousins, are you?”  He reached Gerhardt’s room and entered.

The room was empty.  Shit.  He’d just found Asariel and now his other patient was gone?  He sent out a quiet alarm call to the other medical staff, indicating anyone who wasn’t urgently busy should help  him look for the patient, and then rushed over to check on the newly returned blood angel.

The mystery was solved as he opened the door.  Asariel was in his bed, dark eyes burning holes in him.  Gerhardt was slumped next to the bed, fast asleep with his head against Asariel’s chest as the other’s arms wrapped around his shoulders.  Zariel sighed and cancelled the alert and called for someone to move Gerhardt’s bed into the room.

“If I keep you two in the same room will you please stay in bed?” he scolded, beginning to examine his patient to ensure there was no further damage from his escapade.

“Yes sir.  I just need to be with him.  Especially when he has his seizures.”  Gerhardt sounded apologetic but Zariel could tell he’d do the same again if they were separated.

An assistant entered with Gerhardt’s bed and Zariel carefully eased Gerhardt back into it.  Asariel scooted over to the edge of his bed and reached a hand across to his brother, eyes still watching Zariel suspiciously.  Zariel sighed again.  He might need to speak to the salamanders about having a double sized bed made.  And maybe see if one of Cedric’s brother-cousins could be spared to keep an eye on these two.

“Robin brought you some meat pies, would you like one?” He said, instead of what he was thinking?

“Wait, why would they do that?” Gerhardt sounded legitimately bewildered.  “You’ll have to ask them later, but they smell good,” Zariel replied, dodging the question for the moment.  “Shall I have some heated up for you two?”.

Gerhardt thought for a moment, before responding “Yes please.”  After another long moment and a suspicious look, Asariel signed “Yes” as well.  Soon the pair were both settled back eating; the protein and carbs would do them some good.

Zariel settled back into his office to eat his own treat, calling Cedric in to talk to him.  The young apothecary gave a very wide-eyed hungry look at the meal.  “Yes, there’s one reserved for you as well.  Come in, I have a favor to ask of some of your brother-cousins."

[qtssvnwoo]

hii ik ive requested before but could i request a neville x huff!reader where like the reader is really loud and extroverted and has adhd but neville is his quiet self and he loves listening to her ramble about everything and anything? <333333 love your work bestie

You can request as many times as you'd like bestie <333

Prompt List-If you wanna request!!!

Masterlist- All my fics in one places for you!!

His (Chatty) Hufflepuff-Neville Longbottom

Neville wasn’t exactly the most extroverted person. He was typically quiet and didn’t say too much in class unless called upon. He had very few friends, and he honestly kept to himself a lot. Neville was picked on and teased for being ‘forgetful’ and sometimes, it made him sad, but he knew that what the people said was true, so he didn’t mind all too much. 

You on the other hand were like a bouncy ball. You’d talk and talk and talk until you physically could not. You were very energetic and tended to convey that into your words. You had quite a few friends and you were known for talking really fast. People liked you, and knew you as ‘the energetic Hufflepuff’. You had a habit of telling everyone everything and some found it quite annoying, but you didn’t care. 

Thats why, when Neville asked you out one day during fourth year, people were surprised when you said yes. They were even more surprised when you two continued to date for the years following. You and Neville were polar opposites and people found it odd that you two had been together for so long. 

“His quietness would send me through the roof.” Some people would say.

Or

“She’s too loud, and she is quite energetic. I would get annoyed quickly.” Others would say.

But, you never listened to them. Probably because you were too focused on talking to Neville. 

“OH OH OH OH OH. AND THEN, and then Cathrine told Henry that she never actually liked him! Can you believe that? After seven years together you think she would’ve truly liked him. I mean, if it was me, I would’ve never been with Henry because I’m convinced his favorite food is garlic bread! He always smells like garlic. I actually like Garlic I think it's yummy. And I like dipping it in pasta. Do you like Pasta Neville?” 

Neville smiled up at you from where he was sitting. He was trying to do his herbology homework but he was so engrossed in listening to you that his homework had made its way back into his bag. You two were sitting underneath the tree in the courtyard, and Neville watched as you laughed and smiled. Truth is, he was more paying attention to your lips moving and the sound of your laugh than your story, but he still answered you. 

“I like Pasta.” 

“Oh that's good because I LOVE Pasta, if I could eat pasta everyday I could. Well, maybe not everyday because I would get sick of it, and if I got sick of pasta I would be so sad because I LOVE pasta Neville. I really like when they put that white sauce on the pasta too, with the chicken. OH speaking of chicken, did you know my brother has a chicken farm in Italy! He raises chickens, Neville! Can you believe that?”

“I cannot.” 

“Me either, I could never be around chickens. They smell and they are very very loud. Kind of like Henry. OH OH OH Did I tell you that Henry and Cathrine aren’t together? They broke up because Cathrine said that she never liked him.”

You continued to talk, all your stories and little speeches always got mixed and tangled together, but you somehow managed to always bring it back to the main point. 

Neville sat in the courtyard listening to you rant about everything for the next hour, but he didn’t mind it. He loved the way your voice sounded, how you would laugh at your own jokes and the way you always asked him a question every now and then to keep him interested in the conversation. 

People walked past and they wondered how you two could stand each other. But you knew that with Neville’s quietness, and your chattiness, you were a perfect match. And no one could ever make you think otherwise.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

how do the m6 act when they're feeling petty??? and how does mc deal with it?

The Arcana HCs: M6 being petty

~ how do I begin to say how much I love writing about these lovely characters being typically human? Thanks for the prompt anon, enjoy! - brainrot ~

Julian

He acts petty about the smaller things as a way of being silly. He can hold onto a hurt, but he prefers to deal with that stuff more directly

You see it come out the most with his younger sister Pasha

She'll be rolling her eyes at him, telling him he's an idiot and she doesn't need his help

He'll be cleaning up after dinner with her and put everything away on the top shelves

She'll get annoyed and start telling him to pull them back down for her: "I know you know what you're doing wrong, Ilya!"

"What's that? I'm just your idiot older brother, Pasha, since when do I know what I'm doing?"

"I mean it! Take them down for me now, you know I can't reach up there!"

"I thought you didn't need my help."

He'll be giving her his usual rogueish grin, casually dodging her swipes at his kneecaps as he pulls everything back down

He wants to get his point across though, so he'll use the opportunity to reorganize her kitchen while she's distracted

Now the dish towels are in the oven and the sugar and salt are mixed up. He might even dose Pepi with some catnip on the way out

Asra

For someone with such a chillaxed approach to life, they are surprisingly easy to annoy

And yes, he gets petty when he's irritated

It rarely happens with you (usually when you're trying to annoy them on purpose), and then his petty retaliation prank is just for show (or to make a gentle point)

But if it's someone being genuinely maddening, maybe a Karen in the market place or a self-important jerk cutting in line?

Barely detectable spells designed to make them question reality in a decidedly unpleasant, but harmless way

The Karen screaming about the pumpkin bread being overbaked is suddenly under a 30 minute enchantment that makes her say the opposite of what she intends to

You've never heard anyone serve compliments so angrily: "Exceptional service! This bread is flawless! You're not being unreasonable, I am!" All while slowly turning purple with rage

And oh no, look at that, the guy who shouldered his way in front of you moments ago just made a beeline for the public lavatory, almost like he has sudden diarrhea

"Oh no, MC," Asra whispers quietly in your ear, dimples dancing, "Oh nooo ..."

Nadia

She gets petty when she feels like she's been insulted or underestimated

It's not her best look, but she has a lot of pent-up resentment about feeling constantly humiliated by her older sisters

So of course, that's what she does to the unfortunate nobleman who tries to mansplain his way out of taking care of his tenants in front of her court

She'll pull out the file of information she's gathered and grill him with no mercy: "You currently own 4 properties valued at ____, correct? And you charge your tenants ____ per month?"

You watch him go pale and gulp, "er, yes, Countess. But with the rain, building costs-"

"Your maintenance to date is estimated at costing you ____, leaving over 50 separate complaints unaddressed, some of which are several years old. If my numbers are correct, (and they are always correct, nobleman) you still have _____ in profits. That should easily cover the estimated ____ required to restore acceptable living conditions. I expect to receive a glowing report from your tenants next quarter. Will there be any issues?"

She usually feels guilty afterwards, but you can't blame her. It's just so gratifying

Muriel

He can hold a grudge, but his brand of petty is hard to notice until you get to know him better

It'll only happen with people he trusts, when they do something he disapproves of

For example, the time Asra visited and decided to feed the chickens some breadcrumbs soaked in mead. Just for fun

Watching tipsy poultry stagger and drunkenly cluck around your front yard was hilarious, but also a little sad

And Muriel doesn't appreciate it when someone disrespects nature. Even Asra

He'll sulk. It's a little comedic to watch a full grown man give someone the cold shoulder and huff and stomp his way around the hut, but it's surprisingly effective

Especially when Inanna joins in, skulking by his side and shooting the occasional disdainful glare

Asra crumbles when Faust sides with them, riding on Inanna's back and blepping at her master reproachfully

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have -" *giggle* "I shouldn't have intoxicated your chickens! It was very rude of me."

Really the apology is all Muriel wants, he'll stop sulking and maybe laugh about it later

Portia

She gets petty when someone comments on an insecurity of hers without meaning to

Being the younger sister of a charismatic older brother means that she *hates* being compared to him

She'll be enjoying drinks with you one evening at the Rowdy Raven, and one of the local regulars will make the wrong comment

"Hey, it's Devorak's little sister! Look at you carrying all those drinks, I bet you can hold your liquor almost as well as he can."

Uh oh. It's on.

She'll turn, smiling sweetly, and challenge him to a drinking contest in front of the whole tavern. He'll need help getting home

She won't stop there, either. After that it's arm wrestling, darts, even an insult war in which you hear some of the most creative roasts you've ever come across

All as her Nevivon accent gets thicker and thicker, curls flying and eyes sparking with triumph as she demolishes poor fool after poor fool

She'll be embarrassed about getting so carried away the next morning while she's nursing her hangover

It's worth it because Julian is now known at the Raven as "Miss Portia's older brother"

Lucio

In the same way that he only throws his tantrums cathartically, his pettiness is his other method of handling his short temper

On one hand, you're proud of him. It's a big improvement from ordering someone's execution because he didn't like what they said about him

On the other hand, it's hard to take him seriously when his response to an unwelcome comment is to mimick it back in their faces because he can't come up with a witty comeback

He'll be passing back by a merchant he tried to haggle with earlier when their shop assistant makes a friendly jab at him

"Hey, Mr Adventurer! You back for that deal, or is it still too much?"

He'll barely miss a beat spluttering before he whirls around and responds in a squeaky mocking voice at the top of his lungs:

"Hey shopkeep! You back for that deal, or am I still too much?"

Apparently, the teenaged assistant in question is gifted in both good humor and snark. There's a crowd gathering for the free entertainment and it's fueling both of them

Neither of them seem afraid of being immature in public so you wait it out at the nearby tea stand until they're satisfied

(If you liked Lucio's part, I highly recommend the meme my lovely mutual sent me based off of it here)

[baileys-3]

NEW CHAPTER ONLINE on AO3

It's Date Night and First-Kiss-Night.

Little Sneak Peak below the link.

Half an hour later she is standing at the food truck, thinking about what to order. She could be mean and get something vegetarian with tofu. But she is not that mean. She decides on a salad with breaded chicken strips. Because she doesn't know exactly when Tim is coming, and she doesn't want the food to get cold until he gets here. And with salad, that definitely can't happen. She buys two more drinks in a red can and hopes it's something along the lines of Coke.

Then she takes a seat at the only table still free. Which is right next to the pavement. But at least there is still one table free. The truck seems to be more popular than she thought. But it's also a nice place. The neighborhood is quiet. Many nocturnal walkers use the adjacent park, and it even has a slightly romantic touch. She didn't just imagine the fairy lights, they're real.

Lucy pulls her phone out of her pocket and sees a message from Tim, who texted her five minutes ago that he is just leaving now. She puts her phone back and leans back in her chair. And then just watches the people on the road. The cook of the food truck. How he prepares his dishes. The cars driving by.

Suddenly a hand comes to rest on her shoulder and gives her a quick squeeze. She looks up and sees Tim standing next to her. She just smiles at him, and he just smiles back. Then he pulls the chair that is on the opposite side of the table from there next to her and sits down on it, wide-legged. So that his knee touches her thigh. It is almost impossible to get any closer. Otherwise, he would have to sit on her lap.

He looks around briefly.

"Treats of Vietnam. That's where we ended up." He says and she must laugh. Yes, this is definitely a different location than the n/naaka yesterday. "So, I guess this is our official first date."

"Mm, last night was, for sure. I mean, it's a better story for the grandkids."

Oh Shit. Did she just say grandkids? Yesterday she was making it clear to him that she wouldn't go to bed with him right away and now she's telling him about grandchildren.

[kai-anderson-whore]

I heard someone needs Colin Zabel suggestions and I GOT YOU. I literally CRAVE Colin fics. Im probably gonna send multiple submissions but this is the first one.

Colin x Reader cuddling up on the couch watching something about hoagies (it’s a sub sandwich if you’re wondering what it is. East Coast dialect 😚) food network on the tv. They both start craving it and decide to make one. But Colin and reader do not agree on meats/cheese/veggies/condiments that should go on to make the “perfect” hoagie. So they have a silly food battle on who could make the best hoagie like they’re on a competitive cooking show. After their both done they try each other’s hoagies and then their own. Colin hates to admit it but reader was right.

This one was short sorry but more Colin fics coming in the next few days 😊

Hoagies (colin zable x reader)

A/n; I don't know what actually goes in a hoagie in other countries so sorry if its not accurate the hoagies you get in Scotland where I'm from consists of chapti bread, Donna meat or chicken tikka, fries with cheese and chilli sauce so that's why I wrote that

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

It was your usual Friday night laying on your boyfriend's lap on the sofa watching food network on the tv, a thing about hoagies on making you absolutely crave one "Oh I could go one of them tight now with donna kebab meat fries with a load of cheese and chilli sauce" you groaned on colin's lap who looked at you with a chuckle "no thats not a hoagie y/n it has to have deli meat like salami and ham with salad" he protested making you sit up from his lap in shock.

"No it's not trust me my way of a hoagie is the best" you insisted you tried the hoagie you prefer when you and your best friend went on holiday to Scotland and tried one you never looked back learning how to make one of your own, "you thinking what I'm thinking?" Colin asked raising an eyebrow at you, "food battle" you smirked getting off the sofa you and Colin zoomed straight to the kitchen grabbing all the ingredients you needed for your food.

You and Colin now stood at either side of the kitchen island you cooked the fries in the oven, before preparing the meat, Colin was busy telling you he would win whilst preparing his hoagie, "Oh your so going down" he smirked cutting the bread up, "no your going down zable" you smirked back now cooking the donna meat.

"East Coast vs scotland" you laughed throwing a bit of lettuce at Colin who tried to catch it in his mouth but failed miserably, making you laugh your ass off almost falling to the floor, "I can't believe you completely missed that it was almost in" you said in between fits of laughter, "I could have gotten it if you knew how to throw better" Colin teased tossing another piece of lettuce which you caught in your mouth.

It didn't take long for the meat and fries to cook coating it with cheese and salad with chilli sauce you took your knife cutting the food in half for you and Colin and he did the same with his one, "be prepared for your taste buds to have a orgasm" you stated giving colin his half.

Colin gave you his half of the hoagie he made you took a bite you had to admit it was good but you still stood by the fact that your one was better, you watched as Colin took a hesitant bite of your hoagie chewing the food his eyes almost popping out of his head a moan of delight let his lips.

"This is really good wow okay you were right it is like the best thing ever" he mumbled his mouth full of food,"Colin don't talk with your mouth full but yes I told you so" you laughed about to take your half of the hoagie you made, "Hey what are you doing?" Colin asked looking a bit disappointed that you took the rest of the hoagie.

"I'm taking my half col" you chuckled taking another bite of the hoagie, soon enough you and Colin were full laying back on the sofa cuddled up almost falling asleep from being too full, "I don't think I can watch anything about food tonight" Colin chuckled his eyes closed with you laying on his chest, legs tangled together as the tv still played food network.

"Me neither I could sleep for a hundred years right now" you mumbled almost drifting into slumber neither of you wanted to get up too comfortable on the sofa, "that doesn't sound too bad right now" Colin yawned holding you closer to him drifting off to sleep.

[miniherodesktales]

Advent 15: Home Alone Cat: Part 5

'They said they'd blown up the Starbug and the crew into itty bitty pieces!' said Chicken Soup Vending Machine No. 12.

'You mean...they're all dead?' Cat asked.

'Well, yes,' said CS.

'I can't believe it...my only friends....all gone...'

'There, there,' soothed Talkie. 'Would you like some toast?'

The Cat sniffed loudly. 'Yeah, I'd like some toast.'

'Coming up.'

The Cat waited. The toaster remained silent.

'Is it done yet?'

'It may be a while....you see you have to actually put some bread in me before I can toast it. As the old saying goes: you can't make toast without bread.'

The Cat slammed the wall with his fist. 'Nothing is going right today!'

'Easy,' said CS. 'You don't know anything for certain. Someone may have survived.'

'You think so? How can I be sure?'

'I have a suggestion,' said Talkie.

'Shut up! No more toast talk! It's up to me now to save the Dwarf. It'll take cunning and it'll style. Now let me go change clothes.'

He strode purposefully down the corridor, turned around, and strode purposefully back in the right direction.

'So what was your idea?' asked C.S.

'Rimmer is always in connection with the Holographic suite, right? If I can get there, I can send a message. Find out if the boys are alive.'

'That's an idea but how you going to get there?'

Margo the Scutter came rolling past.

'Ah,' said CS.

***

'Ok,' Lister breathed. 'Let's take stock. I have a pineapple and you have a platypus.'

'Correct,' said Rimmer.

'Not quite,' said Kryten. 'You have a concussion and Mr Rimmer has a glitch.'

'That's what I said.'

'He did say that, Crouton, you should pay closer attention.'

'Maybe I'll take over,' said the android patiently. 'Starbug is a wreck but the fire is out. We're stranded but at least we're on a planet with breath-taking sea views. Mr Lister has a broken leg, while I've lost a leg. Mr Lister also has a head injury, while you, Mr Rimmer, have suffered damage to your Light Bee and are floating two inches above the ground. Thankfully we have two scutters to help us. Now that we're in a more stable situation I suggest that you two rest while scutters build a shelter. In the mean time I'll try to contact the Dwarf. It's possible that the Cat could also be in danger. Now, does that sound like a plan?'

'I feel strange,' Rimmer moaned.

'Try and sit down,' Lister suggested.

Rimmer sat down, still two inches above the beach. His eyes flashed purple.

'You guys look like toast!' he said in a voice that was not his own. 'Speaking of, would anyone like some toast?'

'Rimmer?'

'Talkie is that you?' Kryten asked.

'It sure is and, boy, am I glad to see you guys! We have a situation here.'

'We're not doing so great, either. How about you send out Starbug 4 to us? We'll need a team of medi scutters and engineering scutters to help us.'

'I'll do my best. But don't worry I guarantee there'll be fresh toast on board too! Signing out!'

Rimmer drew in a deep breath as he regained control of his body again.

'You OK?' Lister asked.

'I can taste burnt toast. It's not the worst but not the best either.'

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

So…forgive me if you’ve done something like this before but Steve/Nat/Bucky have been living rent free in my head for a while now and I thought…what if Nat was just having a really lousy time and Steve and Bucky just cooked her an authentic Russian meal to cheer her up but they can’t cook. So they keep practicing and tasting until they get it right…putting on weight as they go because…decadent cuisine, amirite? She notices her little pelmeni getting bigger but she doesn’t mind. She keeps tasting, taunting them, saying it’s not right, try again. Until they get it right, only they’re not the only chubby ones anymore…but Nat doesn’t realize it until she indulges in one of their truly amazing meals and ends up popping a button. Sexy times!

Completely ignores the fact that the last writing I did here was all but a month ago and returns like nothing happened.

I haven't done something like this before! I dig it! It's giving this scene between Wanda and Vision

Also, it reminds me of this Steve and Natasha fic that I adore "Shaping Happiness"

Inspiration/reminders aside... yes! This idea is great!

I went off the prompt a little bit because I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s still enjoyable!

Warnings for Steve × Natasha × Bucky belly kink below the cut. Unbeta'd. Stuffing, weight gain, dirty talk, etc.

At first, all the food Steve and Bucky attempt to cook for Natasha to cheer her up is truly terrible.

Steve has never been much of a cook, so he claims it’s not his fault. Listen! He's unlucky enough to burn water! So, as Bucky rediscovers Steve’s kitchen ineptitude, he's quickly relegated to boiling water at most and tasting as Bucky cooks at least. Steve cannot be trusted with knives and veggies most of the time (Bucky will never understand how he’s a superhero who can hold his own in combat), nor can he be trusted to measure something correctly (he’d much rather just "eyeball" it), and there is never a time where it is acceptable to allow Steve to cook something. He will turn up the temperature, thinking it’s not cooking fast enough, and accidentally attempt to burn the entire apartment to the ground. So, Steve gets to taste.

Only taste.

Bucky will give him spoonfuls or bits and pieces, and Steve will greedily take them. Praising Bucky’s cooking ability (re: his non-disaster existence in the kitchen that Steve occasionally envies, lmao) and asking for more, please? Weaponizing those pretty baby blues when Bucky’s successful enough for things to be edible.

Obviously, Bucky is a better chef between the two of them, but he's out of practice (years of being the fist of HYDRA will do that to you) and unfamiliar with these kinds of foods. So, even though he's still got a few of his Ma's recipes in the very back of his brain (not that Depression-era foods to keep the family fed are very good compared to a lot of these Russian delicacies), nothing is really… right… when they first begin making comfort food for Natasha.

They try all the staples:

Solyanka (sweet and sour beef stew), zharkoye (beef (or whatever extra meat you have around the house) and vegetable stew), zharkeo (chicken stew), etc.

Borscht (red beet soup), okroshka (vegetables, egg, potato, and meat soup), rassolnik (beef, barley, and pickle soup), shchi (cabbage soup), ukha (fish soup), etc.

Pelmeni (meat dumplings), pirozhki (savory baked or fried puff pastries), blini (wheat crepe-like pastries with sweet or savory fillings), borodinsky (dark rye bread), vatrushka (sweet pastry with cottage cheese and raisins), shashlik (kebabs with cubed meat and vegetables), ikra (caviar on bread/blini), pirozhki (yeast dough stuffed with savory or sweet fillings), etc.

Morozheneo (extra creamy Russian ice cream), pashka (sweetened cheesecake), kartoshka (basically Russian cake pops, often chocolate), kissel (cherry soup), medovik (layered honey and condensed milk cake), etc.

Steve will often spend the time that Bucky is spending cooking by looking up new recipes, and new foods, making sure to take them from credible sources so they don’t end up in a “diner situation”

The diner situation was what happened when Bucky was first recovering and they were surviving on takeout because Bucky was too afraid to allow himself around knives again and Steve was struggling (unsurprising), so no cooking for him, and they went to an “all-American diner.” Hoping for a taste of home and instead finding that the diner served food that was God fucking awful and worst of all, nothing like the actual food of the day it was claiming to represent! It made them both feel worse - lonelier. No one understood what it was like. What the food was, what the culture was, what it was like.

They don’t want that.

They will not be making some bogus “Russian food” that isn’t actually authentic.

Anyway -

All traditional Russian cuisine that Bucky attempts while Steve watches and tastes and researches aren't any good at first.

Like, they suck so much that Steve and Bucky don't even serve them to Natasha. Tasha doesn’t even know what they’re doing. She’s always out on missions or on Capitol Hill with Fury whenever they try their hand at making her familiar Russian foods by their design. While alone together in the apartment, Steve and Bucky quietly try each creation themselves, can barely swallow it at first, and decide… not yet.

Not yet.

They both want it to be perfect.

So, even when Steve begins to use his puppy-dog eyes for evil, begging for more treats, more tastes, because, holy shit, Buck, that’s great! That has to be what that is supposed to taste like! They don’t share the plan with Natasha yet.

Not yet.

Natasha catches onto the fact that something is going on as she starts to squint her eyes and pinch Steve’s hip or ass, gratefully sighing, “at least between the two of you, someone is fully embracing the house-husband lifestyle.”

Embracing the house-husband lifestyle by packing on a few pounds. Just enough to soften Steve’s usually perfect abs into a flat belly (unless he’s stuffed or bloated) and turning his thighs and ass into soft, squeezable shapes.

Bucky and Steve have both retired, giving them all the more time to spend experimenting and practicing recipes for Natasha as house-husbands and homemakers. But Steve is the only one beginning to plump up. He’s stopped going for his morning run and afternoon workouts cold turkey. Bucky still goes to the gym. He finds it meditative. Cooking and working out seem to be some of the only things that completely clear his mind. Steve, on the other hand, has always been single-minded. And it seems like eating has taken up all of his focus.

There's no room for anything else.

Steve tastes as Bucky goes, describing the flavors the best he can, telling him what he might try adding and how the flavor compares to what his research has told him the dish is supposed to be like. Then, when the dish is done, Steve tries it first, while it’s still hot (even if it’s supposed to be served cooled, Steve can’t help but have a healthy serving before it goes into the fridge). He gives notes again. Bucky tries it when it's fully ready. He has a nibble or two, just enough to taste - nothing like the full servings that Steve takes. Bucky has already had his lunch, and he doesn’t want to spoil his dinner. Then, if it’s good, Steve eats the rest of whatever they’ve made.

All of the rest.

Bucky’s taken to telling Steve to “hide the evidence” since they don’t want Tasha to know until they’re ready for her…

Is it really hiding, though, if they both know where the extra food is ending up in the form of a pretty, shaping-up pot belly? Sticking straight out from Steve's well-defined chest.

Food for thought. Ha.

“What is Bucky feeding you when I’m away?” Natasha purrs, on her knees, her sharp, white teeth digging into the new slope of Steve’s belly. He chugged a whole, huge pot of stew when Natasha texted an approximate 10-minute ETA. Getting rid of the evidence except… the stew was full of melt-in-your-mouth meat and potatoes and salt. Heavy. This stew isn't fucking around and it's apparently delectable (Steve's word). So, it’s obvious where the stew has gone. Right into his pot belly.

Swollen.

Once Natasha arrived, Steve was still sweating and just beginning to bloat up like a balloon from the excess sodium. And Tasha's always present 6th sense for knowing how best to drive Steve up the wall, complained about how hungry she was.

A devious grin split Bucky’s face, asking what she was craving because they’d be sure to order lots of it. Whatever she wanted.

She said Indian food.

Perfect.

That’s not something Steve can resist. He loves Indian food. And, sure enough, he wolfed down a whole ‘nother dinner. Getting red in the face from the spice heat and temperature heat, his poor belly gurgling loudly in a fit of digestion.

Steve shrugs in reply to her question, biting his lip out of arousal but also out of desperation to hide the overfull groan that wants to come out of him. He’s been fighting burps and moans and hiccups all evening. Trying to not make his packed state so fucking obvious.

Bucky thought he was into seeing Steve like this - bloated and round - because he loves seeing his fella happy and healthy and fulfilled. Bucky thought he was into cooking and baking and experimenting with food for Natasha because he loves her, and he wants to make her happy and bring her comfort and just do something sweet for her. Those things are true. But, watching Natasha dig her painted nails into Steve’s soft parts…

There’s something else here, too.

Woo, boy.

“Mm,” Natasha is half-asleep, exhausted from yet another mission, yawning, and curled up like a cat in a sunspot between them. Her head is cushioned on Steve’s chest, “‘m pretty sure we could get rid of our pillows and be just fine.” She squeezes the pec that her head isn’t pillowed on in her hand, groping him, “got enough right here.”

Steve inhales shakily, turning bright red.

Bucky can tell by looking at him that he’s not insulted, far from it, that’s his this-is-making-my-dick-hard face. He's squirming, too. Blood going straight for his dick with a vengeance.

“Eh, just wait a little longer 'fore we make any rash decisions, m'kay, doll?” Bucky murmurs, amused, running his metal fingers through Tasha’s fire-red hair.

She grumpily frowns but then snuggles more into Steve’s jiggly chest, taking it as being warned about how tired she is rather than waiting because Steve’s going to get plumper. More cushion.

Good.

The more blindsided she is by the comfort, the better. Bucky wants it to take her out - to make her feel so much better that all she can do is accept it. She has a hard enough time allowing herself simple pleasures.

She deserves it all and more.

“Damn, Rogers, you ever think about doing a centerfold? I’m pretty sure Playboy would make an exception for you if we asked.” Natasha husks, her face all up in Steve’s business. Lips and teeth and tongue working at his little hole while her hands spread his extra full cheeks apart.

Steve simply whines, high-pitched and pathetic.

It’s a damn good response, considering her question and considering how Bucky has his cock rammed down his throat. Stuffing him.

Steve is suspended between them, face-planted onto Bucky’s cock, choking, his arms useless, half crushed under his chest against the bed, and arching back against Tasha. His legs shake under him when Natasha does something special with her sharp tongue. Steve’s in heaven. Choking on dick, throat full, and getting fucked with a hot, wet tongue deep inside his sweet hole.

Now, after weeks and weeks of practice, not just Steve’s big, heavy dick hangs down toward the bed... now his belly does, too. It jiggles when he squirms. Every time Bucky squeezes his growing gut, Steve makes a sound like he’s dying. It’s a different sound to what he makes when Natasha gropes his thickening ass or widening love handles. Also, different from the sound he makes when they feel up his expanding tits. All his sounds are sweet, but the sound he makes for his belly is especially guttural and desperate.

“Curves for days,” Bucky bites out, thrusting in hard. “Better than any of the girls in those pages.”

Steve chokes.

Tasha laughs, just this side of cruel. “Mmm-hmm,” she spanks his ass just to watch the fat flesh ripple, “getting more and more curves these days. I guess retirement is good for somethin’.”

The growl Bucky lets out is unintentional. It’s barely been a year since they retired. So, what will Steve look like in a year? What will Natasha look like when she’s face-first in his ass then? Will Natasha have to buy a longer strap to reach Stevie’s hole, much of the plastic length getting swallowed by his monstrous ass? How fat will Steve be if they keep going, his perfect, little, superhero figure ruined?

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Bucky can’t take the thought. He ends up coming down Steve’s throat with a shout from behind gritted teeth.

Steve doesn’t mysteriously grow forever, though...

When they’re ready, Bucky and Steve arrange with Fury for Natasha to have a full three-day weekend off, no interruptions unless the world is literally being torn in two. Then, with the guarantee, they prepare.

First, Steve does research into the traditional Russian foods that would be used for a celebration - a feast - and arranges an entire multi-course menu for the occasion. His poor belly, so used to tasting and now able to recognize most of the dishes he comes across, wails the whole time he works. He’s not hungry. Not exactly. He just wants something in his mouth. He wants to taste. He can’t wait for the feast. Bucky has to remind him again and again that this is Natasha’s feast. She’s going to eat what she wants, and then Steve can destroy the leftovers.

Second, Bucky prepares all the dishes. One last time. Every detail on point. Practicing. Getting everything as perfect as he can. Making sure the dishes and drinks in each course compliment each other well.

Steve gobbles it all up, stuffed like a traditional American Thanksgiving turkey by the end of it. Panting around his bounty, all of it shoved down his throat, turning his belly into a red, tight beachball that Bucky wants to worship.

And for once, Bucky is relieved that Natasha is currently, before her long weekend, on a multiple-day mission. She’s out of the apartment and not returning tonight. He’s relieved because it means he doesn’t have to explain this to her.

Steve. Stuffed. Food-drunk and hard and moaning about it.

There’s no way this would be an accident. No one gets completely, illogically gorged like this without trying.

When did tasting bits and pieces become vacuuming up the entire dish Bucky made anyway? Bucky doesn’t exactly know. But he can’t complain. All he can do is rub Steve’s skin with lotion then jerk him off slow and tight, dragging it out until Steve is sobbing, holding his taunt gut desperately like he can keep himself together, keep himself from splitting at the seams, and then blacking out when he’s finally allowed to come because it feels so good.

Third, they prepare all the food before Tasha is set to arrive home. She’s been in debrief most of the morning, but before that, she caught a cat nap on the quinjet and then showered at Stark Tower. She should be refreshed. There’ll be no reason to delay the feast. Bucky doesn’t want to have to reheat it and ruin some of the delicate flavor.

He wants it perfect.

Steve waddles around, helping Bucky to set the table the traditional Russian way - including the shot of vodka next to the water and wine glasses. Steve waddles because Bucky had to make sure he had his fill of food before the feast. Otherwise, he would’ve probably been helpless not to hoover up all the decadence laid out in front of him. He’s created a monster. Even if it’s been hotter than sin to watch him lose self-control after so many years of being perfectly in control of every little part of himself and his life - but, there needs to be an intervention of that new habit today.

So, Steve is stuffed, barely holding himself together. Panting. Flushed. Sweaty. Aroused. Filled.

Bucky is so focused on the stew in front of him, steaming on the stovetop, as he ladles it into an appropriate bowl for serving that he doesn’t hear Natasha unlock the apartment door. The first thing he hears from her is a pleased moan.

“What is that smell?” She asks, her husky voice bright.

“I think you know what it is,” Bucky chirps back, charming.

“Mm-hm,” she hums. Bucky hopes he isn’t projecting when he thinks that she sounds delighted.

But, before he can get anything else out of her, he hears her gasp. He’s about to round the corner and check on her, make sure nothing is wrong after her mission, when -

“Oh, маленький поросенок,” she purrs, “this is why you’ve grown so plump, isn’t it?”

Bucky shivers, setting down both the ladle and the bowl, quickly stalking toward the dining table. Little piglet. God. Did he hear her correctly? Did - is… is that what she really just called Steve?

Little piglet.

The meaning of the words themselves, along with the sound of smooth, purred Russian in Natasha’s voice, leaves Bucky’s heart pounding in his chest.

This was part of the plan, too. Making Steve irrestiable, putting him on display, was part of the plan. He just didn’t -

He didn’t expect it to affect him so much.

He wanted it for Tasha.

Just for her, he left Steve at the dining table, sitting back in one of the heavy wooden chairs with his big belly wedged between the armrests as a gift. Huffing and puffing, stuffed as he already is. His hands resting on either round, bowed-out side of his tummy, rubbing himself lazily. He’s in a tight white t-shirt that’s been pushed up by his swollen middle, exposing a delicious, pale slice of his lower belly that’s been marked by hot, pink stretch marks. Even the serum can’t keep up with the ravenous appetite inside of Steve. The elastic of his grey sweatpants has been stretched to its limits and crushed under his gut. If his heavy belly is lifted up, jostled enough to make him moan, it becomes obvious just how low his sweats are on his hips because the top of his neatly trimmed, blond pubic hair is right there.

Sweet.

He looks delicious.

He looks like one of the Russian pastries Bucky has prepared. Golden and puffy. Hell, he might look more like the dough for the pastry before it’s baked - he’s certainly doughy and soft and he’s expanding out of his clothes like he’s expanding, growing from too much yeast.

Natasha is standing next to him now, her mouth open, staring at him, trying to figure out where to begin. A cat with a mouse, all hers to play with.

The moment she touches him, Steve arches his back, pushing into her touch. Hungry for even that.

Gluttonous.

He’s so gluttonous.

More. More. More.

More of everything. Anything.

“You gonna sit down, doll?”

Natasha shuts her full lips with a click but nods, almost shy with how her eyes flick toward him, then away. Demure in a way that she never is. Normally, if she wants something. She’s going to get it.

This is a different side of her, and Bucky already likes it.

Bucky pulls out a chair for her, the one directly across the table from Steve. She sits, and he pushes her in. He leaves quite a bit of space between her and the table, hoping her gluttonous side will appear and flourish, too. He wants to see her belly grow until it touches the edge of the table.

Christ.

He wants her to eat until she can’t have another bite.

Maybe she’ll let him feed her like Steve lets him.

Maybe she’ll grow as round and fat as Steve has.

He enjoys having one little piglet as a lover, so what could be better than two?

Fuck.

More than excited, Bucky sits himself at the head of the table after bringing the first course. He serves Steve just as much as he serves Natasha, unable to not feed him when he looks so sweet. Even if the plan had been to stuff Steve beforehand so he would be sated (and also to allow him to sit for long enough that he’d be ready to play by the time Natasha was done eating).

Steve is...

He's perfect. Irresistible. Blue eyes dazed, eyelids heavy, cheeks red with heat, head hanging low enough to give him a full double chin. A preview of what’s to come if he keeps blowing up like a balloon. It’s delicious.

Tasha eats everything that Bucky serves her. Everything. Practically licking each plate or bowl clean. She praises his dedication, obviously noticing the care and preparation of the presentation but also tasting the care and prep. These are not flavors that are easy to attain. It’s not perfect. But Natasha is glad it isn’t perfect. That means they can do this again. And again and again and again. Until they have it perfect. Then. Even after that, they should do it. This is good.

Natasha is enjoying herself because, perfect or not, it does settle her. She feels like she could close her eyes and be in one of the rare moments of her childhood where she felt safe and comforted. Better than that, too. With her eyes open, she’s here with her lovers. Her маленький поросенок [little piglet] and her… her кормушка.

Кормушка.

That feels right.

Her feeder.

That’s what Bucky is doing, feeding her, stuffing her, giving her everything she wanted and beyond. More than she could’ve imagined.

The fuller Tasha gets, the farther they get through the courses, the more settled she feels.

It’s hard, she realizes, to allow her abs to let go and expand with the bulk of the food she’s putting down, but, when they make it to the third type of stew, Bucky pauses to rub her belly over her tightening blouse and she moans and breathes heavy and let's go.

She unrounds.

She didn’t realize she was sucking in every moment of every day. Exhaustive. Letting go makes her toes curl. She watches Steve across the table and does as he does, mirroring him, squirming.

“Oh, Джеймс,” Natasha moans his name in Russian, James. Moving side to side, squirming, she can feel the food sloshing inside her. It’s so akin to the feeling of being fucked that it’s shocking. Full. Every sweet spot inside her hit. No wonder Steve loves this enough to have plumped up so deliciously, so rapidly.

She must be making a wet spot on her chair. The heat between her legs is so intense. She would love to squeeze her legs together and feel the throb of her pussy, stimulating herself, but she’s afraid she can’t move her legs. They’ve fallen apart. Spread. Making room for her belly to grow between.

Grow and grow and grow.

Until it’s inhibited by the size of her shirt and the band of her pants, belted tightly to her skin. Her blouse is too tight. The belt is cutting her in half. Without the belt, she’s sure her pants would be giving her trouble anyway. Together, it’s all agony. And these pathetic sounds she only makes when her lovers spend their day working her up and up and up, not letting her come until the sun has begun to set and all she can do is weakly clutch at them, crying, sobbing, and whimpering for her release. Begging to have it. And making a massive mess when she does, squirting hard enough the first time she was convinced she pissed herself. Just. Drenched. Broken like a dry branch snapping.

Crack.

How does she feel like she’s there already?

Steve is watching her from across the table with this obscene, blatant, animal desire etched into his pretty face. She’s not sure she’s ever seen him look so dumb and dominant at once. Like he wants to take her, to devour her, but he doesn’t know how.

Not a thought in his head.

She doesn't blame Steve, though. It is exquisitely difficult to think when so stuffed. She's full up to her eyebrows, and every swallow is forcing her brain out of her head. No thoughts.

Bucky reflects the look on Steve’s face, just, without so much of the stupid. He’s clearly awed, but he knows exactly what he wants.

What he wants to do to her.

What he wants from her.

Pop.

Before she can even realize what’s happened, Natasha is moaning, gruff and loud, and breathless all at once. She has a mouthful of food that she’s having a hard time swallowing, and her body doesn’t want more food. Her mind wants more food. She needs. More. Just a little more. Please? This feast has to end at some point, doesn’t it? So she might as well take all she can get while she can get it, right?

What happened? She turns her head towards Bucky, feeling entirely shit-faced drunk in a way that she… she hasn’t maybe ever felt.

Tasha swallows her mouthful of food, moaning as it slides into her. Stuffing her more. Deep. And -

Pop. Pop.

“AH!” She moans again, twisting her head too fast when she hears an answering clink, clink.

Her eyes follow the sound and find Steve’s plate and her answer.

Two of the three buttons she’s just popped off of her blouse, each feeling like an orgasm in their own right, has landed on his plate.

Steve is staring at them. Chin doubled. Hungry and dumb with his mouth open.

Oh.

Natasha squirms as much as her overfull, clothes-breaking gut will allow for, crying out when she feels her bare skin come into contact with the edge of the table.

She's grown so huge.

Please, please, please.

She doesn’t know what she’s begging for, what her little, hurt, desperate sounds mean. She just knows she needs.

And the second Bucky pulls out her chair, rips her blouse open to allow her to fully expand, tears her belt out of the buckle, shreds her pants, and gets his head between her shaking thighs, she’s coming. Coming and coming and coming. It feels endless. Steve’s eyes are hot enough on her to feel like a physical touch that throws her over the edge that much more. The hot, wet press of Bucky’s mouth against her, her soaked tight core, is too much.

“Oh, oh, oh!” She can’t stop moaning as she orgasms, entirely swept up by the tide of pleasure and excess.

This is absolutely happening again. She's already -

Yeah.

She already knows.

Absolutely.

She gets off so hard on it, stuffed to glutted at their dining table, Steve in the same condition, that Tasha thinks she may never get off on anything else ever. She's been ruined. She already knows.

She's ruined, and this is going to ruin her figure. All she can think about is how decadent Steve feels, fat and soft and lush, and her own body being that? Oh, it blows her mind. Their bodies together, both fat and soft and lush and curvy and round, next to Bucky - all solid, hard muscle. Oh, fuck, that obliterates her mind.

😳

[usaigi]

💕🏳️‍🌈 For the media hyperfixation asks!

YES THIS IS THE ONE I WANTED ILY TY

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

Mateo Murdock 🥺 He's cute, angsty, funny, a hot mess, witty, mommy and daddy issues and has the mental illness sparkle ✨ Something about a character so filled with rage and hurt and so dedicated to help others. Mhm martyrs.. He and Loki were my first MCU blorbos and while I still like Loki, he's lost his blorbo status in my heart. He's my number one.

🏳‍🌈 do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you? (I got this one twice so I'm going to split up my response, here's the other half)

Heroes for Hire + contractors MK and Layla & Kingpin Felicia Hardy

Colleen - Her mom is Okinawan w/ connection to K'un-Lun/the mystical cities/Seven Capital Cities of Heaven and dad is born and raised in Hawaii with chinese, filipino, korean, japanese, white, hawaiian ancestry. Colleen being Okinawan and growing up in Hawaii exposed her to how indigenous people are treated like second class citizens on their own land and how outsiders/colonizers exploit the land and its resources and that why she's so protective of the K'un-Lun/mystical cities. Also she's a lesbian for Misty

Danny - Half white, half chinese. Some family and business partners and other rich people from Rand's side thought Danny's mom was a foreign gold digger but her family is China Rich™ British boarding school, met Wendell at fancy Ivy League etc. and still not "like them" So when Danny was born, he got exposed to a lot of racism and specifically Sinophobia/anti-Chinese comments all through childhood

And ADHD King 🏃 undiagnosed though, all his sifus thought he just liked to jump.

Claire - Afro-Latina (canon) Did I make this up or does Claire talk about experiencing a lot of anti-blackness growing up? Anyways, if that's canon, cool!(not that anti-blackness in the latine community is cool but for Netflix to acknowledge that's something afro-Latinos often experience) If not, it's canon now.

Matt - Mexican Matt etc etc. i know u know this by now but also trans masc Matt who thought he used to be a lesbian and is now a straight cis passing white passing guy despite being disabled poc and queer and the identity and religious meltdown he must have had when he went to college. Also I changed my mind, I do like BPD Matt

Jessica - wonder bread white but she's like self aware about it. She brings a store bought cake to the office potluck. She keeps her mouth closed when the others wash their chicken in the sink. PTSD is canon but I also think she has DPDR. Also Bi.

send me a ask about my media hyperfixation

[thessalian]

Thess vs A Return to Normalcy

Updates from the workplace, and the news is ... for once, not terrible.

See, turns out that Scruffman came in on Sunday, along with the other part-timer (who has been petitioning for more hours and I think she's going to get them at this rate), and really registered the massive dent I made in the backlog. Because seriously, that whole week we went from just under 300 to just under 150 and that was about 95% me. So we're finally back down to the low-mid double digits in terms of the size of the typing queue, and I have a feeling Scruffman had a general sense of, "Ooh. [Thess] did a lot. [Thess] should not have been doing that much, I know that."

Scruffman does not have the best communication skills, mind - especially not over email. He sent an email going, "Give me a bell ASAP" and actually included his number, which I have had stored on my phone for literally years, so I thought there was going to be something urgent and horrible. Because, you may recall, he was going to touch base with me today about potentially having to drag my poor fibro-riddled carcass over to fucking Hampstead owing to lack of bums in seats. I was concerned that this was going to be a call where Issues were brought up.

However, no, this was his way of saying, "I has a concern and want to make sure you're okay after the hours you put in last week". I didn't pull punches, either. He asked how I was doing, which is how he starts all telephone conversations, really, and I just told him, "I seriously overdid it last week". I could hear the gears turning as he was going, "Oh. Yeah. Oh, right" before moving on to the whole thing about the various unexpected absences.

So ... turns out that Violet, Goblin, and Temp are all out at the moment, though Goblin and Temp are apparently coming back on Friday. He's got Other Part-Timer coming in tomorrow, so it's really only Thursday where there might be a requirement for me to come in. But apparently that's only if Scruffman himself takes ill or something else goes entirely to hell. It was pretty clear that he was trying desperately hard not to make me go into the office, particularly after the couple of weeks I've already put in. He also recognised that I do more typing when I'm at home than I do at the office, and then surprised me further by going, "I don't necessarily mean overtime or anything!" like he very much doesn't want me to have to do any more of that either.

So the overall gist is, "Things are back to normal, we will try to manage things without forcing you on to public transport, thank you for all the help and we promise we're not going to make you do too much more of that!" I'm not sure what happens with my overtime - whether it's Time Off In Lieu or actual money, but I think I'll find that out when Head Honcho comes back from his own holidays ... or rather, when I come back from mine because he's away until next week and I'm off next week.

I very much need to be off next week. I haven't fully recovered yet. But at the very least my house is full of nice foods to have that don't require too much in the way of cookery. I did up a pork roast last night so I have leftovers from that. There's a roast chicken that's good in the fridge until Friday, which gives me time to do things with the leftover pork roast and with the duck legs and pork chops I got on sale with this month's grocery shop. But tonight, since I am exhausted (whoever was typing with me today also left me with the longer bullshit - thankfully there were no ten-minute atrocities but if I see one more placenta report this week I'm going to lose my damn mind), it will be leftover roast pork with mashed potato and an asparagus/tenderstem broccoli medley, with an appetiser of gluten-free mozzarella sticks (which, yes, still have the lactose issue but I have Lactaid so I can still have my breaded hot cheese) and possibly a salad. I did actually eat today! Okay, not lunch, but two pieces of gingerbread as breakfast went really well with my morning coffee.

[diabloindigo]

How are you doing today?

Little tired and sore from surgery last week. I’m also numb in the chest area in the ribs. 

What day of the week is it?

Wednesday. 

What’s something you used to believe in that you don’t anymore?

There’s good in everyone. 

What do you admire most in a person?

Honesty and not playing mind games and strength (emotional). 

What’s your favorite dinosaur?

Velociraptor, triceratops, apatosaurus. 

Do you believe in reincarnation? If so, what would you like to be reincarnated as?

With all the grief I've been through, sometimes I think I was a tyrannical asshole in a previous life. 

I would like to be reincarnated as a house cat or a ferret. 

What are 3 scents that you like?

Sandalwood. Pine. That strange cleanser smell in airports and hotels when i travel. Yeah, I’m weird. 

Do you ever use the grounding technique 54321?

No, I think of pleasant things. 

What’s the silliest thing you’ve gotten injured from?

My right arm fake falling. It was sore for two months. And I had to muscle through some stiffness when I went swimming. 

What’s the weirdest food combination you enjoy?

Meat and sweet. I marinade ribeyes in Italian, ranch dressings and add honey. I dip chicken tenders and barbecue chicken in honey 

Where would you relocate if you were forced to leave your place of residence?

I’d move into an apartment. 

Do you play any instruments?

No. I bought a Hohner harmonica with the intention of trying to learn how to play over the summer while convalescing 

What is an unpopular opinion you have?

Star Wars and Game of Thrones are overrated. 

Have you ever done a crazy dare?

Yeah, and I want to say nudity was involved....

What’s your favorite type of cheese or cheese substitute?

Muenster, sharp cheddar, colby, tilsit, or anything ripe-smelling from the shelves at those boutique grocery shops. 

What are things you still enjoy from your childhood?

Summer. Eating sticky red or blues no-cones in the evening. That chlorine smell from after a swim at the public pool. Cartoons. 

What smells better.. fresh baked bread or fresh brewed coffee?

Coffee. 

What’s the oddest text you’ve received recently?

When I had my “burner” phone, I received a text from some random woman asking me if I liked her blue glasses frames. (I said yes.) 

What’s something you believe everyone should have?

Stability. 

What’s the first thing you do once you get home from a trip?

Pee. Or get something to eat before attempting to unpack my things. 

What has been the worst kitchen mishap you’ve made?

My dog stole a steak from the mini grill. 

Do you know how your parents met?

In high school

Do you believe love is blind?

Yeah

If you could get away with it, what crime would you commit?

Some sort of cinema style heist where I concoct an elaborate scheme with a motley crew to infiltrate an event and end up stealing cheese or a golden octopus statue with nobody the wiser. 

If you owned a restaurant, what would you serve?

Southern cooking. Fried chicken, turnip greens, mashed potatoes, chess pie, chicken fried steak, okra.  

Have you ever met a president?

No 

What food tastes better than its appearance to you?

Oatmeal. Frito Pie. Tapioca pudding. 

Do you actively post on social media?

Instagram. I still do FB only because 80% of my friends and family still use that hell site. 

What was your favorite childhood book?

The Mysterious Tadpole by Steven Kellogg. A kid is gifted a loch ness monster thinking he’s getting a tadpole. He raises his monster and ends up building a swimming pool next to his apartment so he can house his pet. 

Do you ever experience intrusive thoughts?

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

What do you consider to be the smartest animal?

Dolphins 

What movies make you laugh the most?

Raunchy comedies 

What’s a product you use everyday that you wish you could get a lifetime supply of?

Vitamin supplements. Soap. Deodorant. Gain laundry pods. 

What’s the best name you’ve heard a pet named?

I like it when people name pets after animals. I briefly had a gray-and-white cat named Goose. 

What always makes your day better?

Doing something random and fun. 

“Let’s try this Indian restaurant.” 

“You wanna see this movie? I can get tickets in there mins.” 

“There’s a Bahama Bucks. Want to stop for a snow cone?” 

Would you rather have multiple hobbies or 1 true passion?

1 true passion and 2 hobbies 

Coffee or tea?

Tea.

Do you listen to podcasts? Which ones?

I watch medical mysteries on Youtube. A grandma eats a pound of chocolate and this is how she has a stroke. 

Would you say you’re good at saving money?

I’ve slipped since I had surgery a few years back. After spending a lot on medical bills, I figured, “well, I spent $XXXX on surgery and medical supplies, so a $15 Disney pin or a restaurant meal isn’t going to make much difference in saving money.” 

I still have a robust savings account. It just hasn't gotten where I want it due to 2 surgeries in the past 2 years. And I worked OT to pad my paycheck before my recent operation. 

Have you ever ridden in the front of a roller coaster?

Once but it was a crappy rollercoaster 

Would you rather have free massages for a year or facials?

Massages

When was the last time you’ve had an adrenaline rush?

Paddle boating in white water rapids. 

Have you ever used a whole chapstick?

No

Has anyone ever given you a gag gift?

Yes, there’s that one friend who gives me lollipops shaped like genitalia.