#also really want to just eat this loaf of bread

[joridrw]

the drunk urge to just take a bit out of a full loaf of bread

[minicy]

i gotta say, a cool $5k in my bank account would be really cool right about now

[poisondionaea-art]

For anyone who wants to write fanfics or comics, ect about characters from Louisiana (Gambit, alastor, ect.) with accuracy to Louisiana and any French we speak here.

⚜️There's a lot of information after the phrases just an FYI ⚜️ I add a few things that I forgot about.

Common phrases used in Louisiana are:

Sha

(pronounced like it's spelled) this is a gender neutral term used for all ages, it's a friendly term used to address someone, most people use it for everyone. Inflections and sentences can change it to be more familial or romantic but it's often just used when addressing someone else. A lot of people use this term and say it for everyone they meet. This is used to replace cher and cheri, no one uses cher and cheri ever, have never heard a single person in Louisiana use those terms in my entire life.)(commonly said at the beginning or end of a sentence when addressing someone also typically accompanied my 'oh' or 'mais/man'

Examples :"oh sha, can you grab me that bottle right there." " How you been sha" "man sha, you seen what that man did over there" "oh mais sha, eat, you must be starving"

beaucoup

(boo•coo) very much, plenty/ plentiful, very, much, an exuberant/ large amount of something. Each of these can be used it just depends on the context, it is often used in 'thank you' or in jest or exasperation to emphasize that someone has a large amount of something. Sometimes people also use it in a jesting manner to make fun of how little someone has when they are trying to pretend like it's a lot. Extremely common to hear in New Orleans slightly less use in the rest of the state but is still used often. Commonly said as "beaucoup much" (younger generation born late 90s to present mainly use this one) or by itself

Examples: "did you see the amount of bread loafs that guy had in his buggie, he had beaucoup things of bread"

Merci also "merci beaucoup" or "beaucoup merci"

(mer•see) thank you, thank you very much, plenty thanks, very thanks. Still widely used across Louisiana rather commonly. Not everyone says it but it's just a personal preference, the people that do use it often still say thank you in English from time to time, they just also like using these terms as well. These phrases are also used for everyone it doesn't need to be reserved for special times/ people.

Example: " merci, have a nice day" kinda self explanatory

Adieu

(a•doo) kinda like goodbye I think I've heard a some people say it but it's definitely not the most common. They said it in place of good bye so I've just always assumed that's what it meant.

Petite

(pa•teet) small, little, tiny. This is already used in the English language show I don't really have to explain it much but it is commonly used among Cajuns and other Louisianaians to address a person affectionately especially when you add another word behind it. Sometimes people will say "mon petite ___" or "petite ____" sometimes shortcutted to "te" sometimes just say patite if it's an nickname the additional thing will most likely be in French and be something that the person likes or enjoys. I've rarely heard it used otherwise unless talking about clothing.

Examples: my grandmothers used to call me "Mon petite papillon" (my tiny butterfly) and "petite minou" (small kitty) because one grandmother's favorite animal was a butterfly and the other's is a cat.

Nanny and parrin

(nan•ee) (pah•ra) god mother and god father, most people call them by these terms so if you here someone from Louisiana talk about their nanny they don't mean someone their parents hired to look after them they mean their god mother.

Couyon

(coo•yaw) fool or idiot. Typically used in rather jest or scolding but typically when joking around. More common in Cajun areas than New Orleans. Sometimes if someone does something foolish especially after being told not to or is just being really clumsy or acting stupid/ rude then people will just call them couyon and walk away or laugh at them.

Example: " will you stop acting like a couyon? We need to get a move on."

Mais

(mah) but . See Sha for example of use mainly used with Sha .

Allons also "allons dan ser"

(ah•law) (ah•law don say) let's go and the phrase commonly used with it is "let's go dancing" more Cajun area use then New Orleans.

Beb also bébé

(pronounced like it's spelled) babe or baby also typically used in a neutral manner when talking to people, can be used for anyone but is most commonly used among family or close friends especially for people younger than you. Can also be used in a romantic connotation like babe or baby usually it is generally affectionate no matter how it's used. Can be used for strangers typically said by women but men do say it.

Example: "bébé can you go to the kitchen and get me a soda"

Just please please don't use cher or cheri no one says that around here it's almost always specific nicknames rather of things the person talking likes or the person listening likes. Please see petite for example.

Gambit is likely to say card related nicknames since he likes gambling, I know a few people who like playing cards who call people things like king and queen quite often as well as like 'my heart', 'little diamond'

In French those would be "reine" (Queen) or "dame" (lady/ queen) , "roi" (king) , "Mon cœur" (my heart/my core), " petite diamant" (little diamond)

For Alastor I'm not sure that there's anything radio related that people would use, my family has been in the radio business for a while and I've never heard any from any of my family members or my parents. He is likely to use deer related ones especially if they are puns.

Examples: " Mon biche" (feminine) or "Mon cerf" (masculine) (both mean my deer) , and "petite biche" (fem) or "petit cerf" (masc) (both mean little deer). He also likes music and that would be more like "Mon musique" (my music).

Any of these can just be said in English not every nick name or pet name is said in French.

Everyone is different so some people throw in more French some people less, nowadays people don't really speak fluent French unless they're old or rich.

Gambit was raised in a cult basically so he does get somewhat of a pass to speak more French if you want him to but it's not super common in New Orleans.

Alastor would have spoken French being from 1920s but being a radio host he probably would have also learned English and went through vocal training to get rid of his accent. ( My family has been in the Louisiana radio business for decades and they all had to train to get rid of their Cajun accents when they started working for the radio stations) Also Alastor is creole not Cajun I will explain the difference more towards the end.

If you want to add the characters speaking French you can just use Parisian French (French spoken in France) no one is gonna be upset if you do there are also no translators on the internet that I know of that have Cajun or Creole (Canadian is also acceptable if your Canadian or know Canadian)

There are a lot of different accents in Louisiana not just Cajun (called flat talk by locals most of the time) .

Some people speak with southern accents, some have Cajun but most talk like stereotypical Americans or have an accent that comes along with speaking AAVE.

Creole accents are like French and Jamaican accents combined it's pretty rare for people to have the accent nowadays though and for some people it can be slightly different

You don't have to write out accents if you don't want to.

Which leads to my next point most people in Louisiana speak in AAVE (African-American Vernacular English) especially closer to and in New Orleans.

The farther away from the 1930s-1940s the character(s) are the less French they will naturally speak and put into everyday encounters. Most people in present day Louisiana especially in areas like New Orleans don't speak French and only add in what few words they do know or are still within common use in day to day conversations.

After this point it is random facts about Louisiana ⬇️

Why did people stop speaking French in Louisiana after this specific period of time?

Great question, the answer is that there had been a law put in place at the time, that declared that everyone had to learn English as it was assigned as the official language of the United States. From what I've been told by my grandparents the law makers cited that they wanted Louisiana to be more welcoming to tourists and the large incoming crowd of refugees and migrants as the reason for the law being inacted.

My grandparents stated that it was probably so that the refugee and migrant crowds wouldn't isolate themselves to only people who spoke their languages. In order to keep unsavory groups from forming (if there were any n@zis among the German crowd, other axis power supporters among the Italians or Japan's crowds as well) they forced everyone to learn English.

I don't actually know what this law was but my grandparents have talked about it since I was little. They were forced to learn English when they hit elementary school and my great grandparents were forced to learn English or possibly lose their jobs, in some cases they were threatened with arrest or their children getting taken away.

This created fear that caused parents to decide to stop teaching their kids French. When my parents were born my grandparents barely taught them any French and mainly taught them English. Rarely anyone in my parents generation could speak or understand full French.

Some parents didn't want to teach their children French only for them to never be able to speak it outside the house.

I also have a feeling that this law was also partially put in place because of Quebec, Canada as they fought for their right to keep speaking French and threatened to become their own country if forced to conform to English like the rest of Canada. So the U.S. was probably trying to stop that from happening with Louisiana.

Also New Orleans has been regularly speaking English since before the rest of Louisiana was mandated to, because it is a port and always has been. It's also been a high tourism area for quite a while as well.

What is the difference between Cajun and Creole ?

Creole means French or Spanish settlers that came directly from the "motherland" (France or Spain) originally this term was more or less used to establish elite status as most of these people were from rich families and paid a lot of money to secure their position in the new colonies belonging to France the term was extended to the Spanish when they had control over Louisiana.

This term eventually came to blanket over slaves and their descendents as well that were under the control of these people, the current Creole culture was mainly shaped by these families as well as the families of Haitian slaves and their descendents that were also brought into Louisiana to serve the Creole people.

This is where voodoo and hoodoo become a part of creole culture because the enslaved persons brought their culture and religion with them from Africa to Haiti and then to Louisiana when they were forced to change location again.

Creole people lived mainly in New Orleans and the surrounding area, most of them owned farmland slightly farther out from the city but lived in the city center while things were tended to by enslaved persons and a person or persons designated to watch over their daily activities

Creoles didn't just enslave Africans they also enslaved impoverished European using manipulation tactics, most of these Europeans became freed people before African Americans and at some point we're given their own slaves which kept them from revolting surprisingly but in surprisingly. Creoles enslaved Cajuns when they first got to Louisiana by order of the king and then freed them when they realized they knew how to farm but gave them their own enslaved persons.

Most Creoles now are African Americans and lead an intricate culture different from Cajun culture that is mainly a mix of French and various African cultures with a little bit of Spanish culture as well.

Creole food and Cajun food aren't too different but some Cajun food has okra bases as to where creole dishes have a tomato base for most dishes as it was an over abundant resource of the New Orleans area.

Cajun people are from a French group of settlers that were originally supposed to create their own nation in Nova Scotia, Canada. They were a bunch of farmers sent there for the purpose of creating an agricultural specific nation using Canadian soil and plants.

Their county was called Acadia and they were called the Acadian people, they technically were not ruled by the king of France and were their own nation, this in fact caused problems especially because they were a young nation and were composed of farmers with no military or combat training and little to no weapons.

With no support from the king or way to form their own military, England forced them to pledge allegiance to rather the king of England or the king of France so they knew where Acadia stood, Acadia asked for help from France, France refused because they were their own nation and they didn't want to pledge allegiance to the king of England

So in true English fashion they burned the nation of Acadia to the ground and forced the Acadian people to leave, the Acadians went to Louisiana in hopes that they would help, the Creoles enslaved them and stuck them where they believed the land was uninhabitable and they would perish because of the order of the king of France

The Acadians being farmers were able to pick up on how to properly farm the land after being shown by natives (my tribe yay) and when the Creoles checked on them and found them alive the king of France made them free people's and gave them land from Acadiana, their new area of living in Louisiana to the what is now the lafourche parish area.

They were given enslaved persons and were put in charge of helping make Louisiana's exports a larger market. Cajun culture and dishes come from a mixture of Acadian, native American and African culture put together with the resources of the area, these dishes spread to the Creoles and were changed to match the resources of the New Orleans area and imported goods.

Cajuns are called Cajuns because the English misheard the name Acadian and so everyone started calling them Cajuns.

Cajun and Creole today doesn't nearly have as many connotations as the past, it mainly just means your family is from this Acadiana area or from New Orleans and you're a descendent of one of these groups

Do Cajuns and Creoles have beef with each other?

Nope, any beefing is mainly joking, and is specifically about the differences in the same dishes between the two cultures.

Does it matter if someone is Cajun or Creole?

Once again nope, Louisiana is a big mixing pot of cultures so no one really cares, everyone loves celebrating the different cultures in Louisiana especially of the newer groups that have joined over the decades through immigration.

I only specified with Alastor because I've seen people call him Cajun when vivzy has stated multiple times that he's Creole.

Enough about Cajuns here's some info on Mardi Gras:

Mardi Gras is one day at the end of the carnival season.

It's on a different day each year because it is a Catholic holiday and goes by the Catholic calendar which changes every year.

Mardi Gras means "fat Tuesday" which is the Catholic holiday the day before ash Wednesday which is a day of fasting and sobriety.

You don't have to be Catholic to celebrate.

Even though it's a Catholic holiday all of the parades are based on Greek and Egyptian mythology

The carnival season is different every year and lasts between 1-2 months before Mardi Gras day, Brazil has a similar celebration at the same time called carnival as well for the same reason.

The carnival season is typically in January- February or March.

All bars close at midnight on Mardi Gras day once it hits ash Wednesday and very few of them are open on ash Wednesday later in the day.

There are family friendly Mardi Gras parades which are most of them and specific parades for adults, typically at night, please don't flash your boobs that's illegal and makes people uncomfortable, the adult parades mean that they might give out alcohol and beads or other float throws that will contain adult symbols like marijuana or nudity. Some of these they throw things like purses and shoes and that's why it's classified as adult.

Anyone can join the parade even people not from New Orleans you just have to pay a fee for whichever parade you want to be in to secure a spot on a float and buy the beads and stuff that you throw, some parade you have to have a specific amount of items, to be allowed on the float

Some people go to other parades to get beads and other stuff for them to throw at their own parades (my family does this with the radio station vans lol)

People on floats throw beads, plushies, party favors, hand clappers, cups, dablooms , recorders and other plastic instruments, bouncy balls, other types of balls, inflatables, candy, chips , ramen, hair clips, plastic swords and plastic tomahawks

Most of the balls for specific parades are closed events for people on the committee but there are masquerade and non masquerade balls and parties held across the city throughout the carnival season, there is even one specifically for Neuro divergent people.

There is a kink parade, that is called "southern decadence" it is a gay pride parade that focuses on sex, kinks, drag burlesque and finding people to hook up with this happens typically around august. If you tell people your going to a gay pride parade they will side eye you because they assume it's this one and not the family friendly ones that happen in June.

The only other parades outside of carnival season and pride are a Christmas parade (krampus), a Halloween parade and st Patrick's Day parade (Irish and Italian American heritage parade)

A king cake is basically a cinnamon roll log that doesn't get cut into individual cinnamon rolls and gets formed into a ring and baked then has vanilla icing with colored sugar on top. There is a baby inside but if you pre order it you can ask for the baby to be put on the side or not included at all. The baby means you buy the next king cake and you will have luck.

It's encouraged to wear costumes to parades but you don't have to, it does get you more beads.

Have a bag or something to put your beads in if you wear them throughout the parade it will be painful and it will get you less stuff thrown at you.

Other random things about Louisiana I think are important:

It's warm throughout the year because this is a sub tropical area, in the summer it is constantly between 89°-115° please don't put characters in long sleeves or tons of layers in the summer.

It rains a lot like 50% of the year it rains

Not every part of Louisiana is swamp

There is no deep woods of massive swamps in the middle of the city of New Orleans, there are a few in the surrounding area but those are an hour -hour and a half out of your way by car at minimum

Hoodoo is magic , voodoo is a religion they are connected but not the same thing not everyone that practices voodoo practices hoodoo and vice versa. PLEASE DON'T MESS WITH THESE RELIGIOUS OR MAGICAL ARTIFACTS WITHOUT SOME WORKING KNOWLEDGE OF IT OR CONSENT/ PERMISSIONS, PLEASE FOLLOW THE RULES IN THE SHOPS.

There are also many practicing pagans and wiccans in New Orleans same rules apply.

Yes there are second lines (marching bands for parties) constantly going through the city but most of them are for funerals don't join them unless you're told you can.

Most people from Louisiana have pretty bad seasonal allergies

There is way more to the city of New Orleans then the French quarter, the French quarter is only like 10 streets

We have a ferry that goes from Algiers (west bank New Orleans) to New Orleans proper (east bank, actually main part to the city) it lets out at the aquarium. There is another one that goes from Algiers to Chalmette (part of the greater New Orleans area)

The greater New Orleans area is the area around New Orleans where most of the people that work and hangout in New Orleans actually live, this includes Jefferson parish and st. Bernard parish. There is still a high population of people who live in the city itself.

Baton Rouge is the capital of Louisiana it is about an hour and a half west of New Orleans by car

People go to Grand Isle, Louisiana or to Biloxi, Mississippi to go to the beach

There is a water park outside of Baton Rouge called blue bayou that's really popular the other water park in the area is Jellystone but most people call it yogi bear because it's a yogi bear theme park

Fairs happen in Louisiana between May - June and then again in September - October

Around Christmas most parks have Christmas lights displays that you can drive or walk through or Christmas villages

People actually play jazz music on street corners in New Orleans, it's not every street corner and most of them are concentrated to being closer to the French quarter

Most bars have a mixture of live music and a dj more upscale places with stick to jazz but most other places have rock, hip hop, r&b, rap and bounce, closer to Lafayette they play zydeco more often then jazz

Louisiana is the state with the second highest gambling rate behind Nevada, there are multiple casinos in Louisiana and even private gambling clubs that you have to know someone to get into

Street cars are like busses on set rails, basically an above ground subway system. You have to pay a fee to ride and can find out the various paths that these take through the RTA (New Orleans public transportation) system or station

You can get electrocuted if you stand on the street car rails if the street car is close by and not stopped, if you see one coming towards you get off of the rails so you don't get hit it takes a little while to stop the car.

Hurricane season begins in May and ends at the beginning of November

People in New Orleans keep pet chickens and some of them just let them roam the neighborhood. So it's not uncommon to see a chicken walking around in a residential neighborhood

Some people in Louisiana have houses raised on stilts because of flooding, their are stairs to get to the house (I've had tourists ask me about this before that's why I'm mentioning it)

Yes we can tell when you're a tourist it's pretty obvious (typically it's because they try to hard to fit in or they wear beads outside of Mardi Gras and get drunk at 12 pm)

New Orleans is the largest city in Louisiana

You will find many different cultures in Louisiana not just Cajuns and Creoles because of immigration, these cultures are all very much celebrated in Louisiana

The most common non English languages spoken in New Orleans are Spanish, Vietnamese and Arabic as currently.

Here's some food from Louisiana:

A quarter of New Orleans (not the French quarter) smells like coffee because of the community coffee plant and during certain times of the year with strong winds the whole city smells like coffee

We eat red beans and rice on Monday's to honor deceased enslaved persons as they would typically eat red beans and rice once a week because they were only allowed to eat protein once a week. Not everyone knows that, I learned about this from Whitney plantation they might have information about it on their website. Not everyone eats red beans and rice every Monday or only on Monday's that's just tradition.

For creole version remember to add tomatoes

Seasoning blend is onions, red bell pepper, celery, parsley, and garlic

Jambalaya:

A dish where you cook down meat and seasoning blend and seasonings, typically the meat is chicken and sausage together then add rice and water into the pot and cook until rice is soft.

Sometimes people add cubed pork or beef, peeled shrimp, peeled crawfish, or other left over meats they have on hand.

Gumbo

A thinned brown stew with seasoning blend, at least chicken and sausage and seasonings, served over rice with fíle (a ground sassafras seasoning)

Other meats included peeled shrimp, peeled crawfish , deshelled or soft shell crab, and oysters

Cajuns sometimes add smothered okra Creoles typically add stewed / smothered tomatoes, I've seen some people add both it's up to preferences and family recipes.

Often served with potato salad

Étouffée

Peeled shrimp or peeled crawfish, seasoning and seasoning blend served in a cream shellfish flavored gravy served over rice

Sauce Piquante

Chicken, shrimp or catfish stewed in a mixture of seasoning blend, seasoning, Rotel , crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes and tomato sauce, served over rice

One of few dishes that have no changes between Cajun and Creole recipes

Boudin

Rice dressing in a sausage casing, typically steamed or smoked

Cracklins

Extra crispy fried pork skins with some meat still attached covered in spices

Po-boy

Warm deli meats or fried seafood, sometimes in gravy on French bread (not baguettes) with mayo, lettuce and tomatoes

Sometimes has cheese, pickles or mustard typically left to customer preference on this one

Beignet

Square fried donuts covered in powdered sugar

Typically eaten with coffee, tea, hot chocolate or chocolate milk

King cakes

Cinnamon roll log made into a ring formation with vanilla icing and colored sugar on top, has a baby inside that means you buy the next king cake if you get it and good luck

Can have different fillings

Seasonal to January through March

Natchitoches meat pie

Pie dough filled with ground beef or crawfish baked into a hand held pie.

Sorry that this is so much information I hope this is helpful for people who want to write about characters from Louisiana.

Hope this helps @lifes-line sorry it's so long.

[rainbowberriesandcookies]

Orihime's weird food combinations actually make a lot of sense-

It's one of those things that in the moment, it's used for comedic relief when other characters see her or hear about her weird food combinations but honestly there's also a lot of subtlety that makes me wonder if Kubo has more personal experience growing up poor or with food security because my god it makes too much fucking sense.

We know that Sora and Orihime had abusive parents who were described as the types of people that would hit a child until it stopped crying and that Sora intentionally hid her away from them to take care of her.

Chances are, their parents never taught Sora how to cook or take care of himself properly, and growing up, he likely had to feed Orihime little bits of what he could put together before he was able to turn 18 and run away with her.

At the start of the story, Ichigo says that Sora died three years ago and at the start of the story, Ichigo and Orihime are both around 15 years old. Which means Orihime was no older than 12 when Sora died.

Have you seen what 12-year-olds left to their own devices eat? And eventually, we find out that Orihime is taken care of by a distant relative who only sends her money as long as she keeps her grades up. Given that she lives by herself, it's likely only enough money to ensure that Orihime isn't homeless or starving - but not enough to actually buy proper meals.

And if it is - Orihime likely doesn't know what a proper meal looks like. From how Sora described their parents, he likely had to raise himself as many children do in abusive relationships, and then had to raise Orihime. But children often learn things from their parents like how to cook, clean, etc.

Another character with a similar home life that Orihime reminds me of is Taiga from Toradora.

Until she met Ryuji, Taiga pretty much lived on convenience store food as her parent(s) only sent money every so often. Likely - once again - it was just enough to make sure she wasn't homeless or on the streets but not enough to be able to afford cooking proper meals and Orihime - like Taiga - likely doesn't really know what normal food or meals really look like.

And as early as the volume 2 character profiles, we learn that Orihime is supported by relatives.

At one point, she's even seen eating bread likely because it was all she could afford.

In Chapter 14, Orihime just brings an entire loaf of bread and a can of red bean paste to lunch and as early as Volume 2 we learn that she's supported by relatives - yet we also know that she lives alone which even as early as this it can be assumed that they're fairly distant and only do so out of obligation rather than love.

Come Chapter 450, this is elaborated on even more

She outright mentions that a distant aunt pays for her living expenses and sends her less when her grades go down. And here, you can see her recounting what she heard about her parents being "really abusive" from her brother all with a smile on her face despite the fact that it's a pretty somber.

Another hint to the food insecurity is how Orihime looked at the donuts earlier and Riruka upon hearing this, let Orihime eat as much as she wanted.

It's in her own way, but Riruka clearly understood that Orihime didn't really have a good home life. But she's a tsundere so Riruka has to say that she doesn't want them anymore instead of outright saying she feels bad and doesn't want to deprive someone who likely has never really had too much food security of food that's right in front of them. The typical "It's not like I care or anything" from tsunderes like Riruka.

Jumping back to earlier chapters-

Orihime joked with Tatsuki about having to carry around a sleeping bag and sleeping outdoors after being kicked out of her apartment following the hollow incident in Chapter 24.

Given that Tatsuki didn't appreciate the joke and up till this point, she's one of Orihime's closest friends, chances are Tatsuki knows that Orihime has a precarious living situation which is why the joke didn't come off as funny because Tatsuki would also know that Orihime is the type to just smile her way through all of her troubles.

So combined with what we know...

As early as Chapter 4 her apartment was damaged as a result of Ichigo's battle with Acidwire, in Chapter 14 she brings bread and red bean paste to school to eat and in Chapter 24 Tatsuki doesn't appreciate her jokes about having to be in a sleeping bag until she finds a new place before admitting that she's actually staying in a hotel.

Chances are her grades slipped to the point she couldn't afford rent anymore or the damage to the apartment was that bad - either way the result was a pretty big strain on her already tight finances.

Orihime's odd food tendencies aren't just to make her quirky, but one of the only ways she knows how to survive. After all - a lot of people who live in poverty or struggle with food security eat and enjoy strange meals like mustard sandwiches where it is just bread and mustard or sugar sandwiches where it's just butter, bread, and sugar... A lot of struggle meals honestly involve some type of bread because it is cheap and filling.

Bread is one of the cheapest food items you can afford and while everyone else thinks that her food combinations are horrid... there is at least one person who appreciates them.

Rangiku!

And from what we know, Rangiku also had a very similar upbringing where she was found starving and alone by Gin. He offered her persimmons, a fruit that when eaten at the wrong time is very sour but when it's ripe it's mushy/soft. Because of this, persimmons can be something of an acquired taste - and when they're dried the flavor of them is even more concentrated

All in all, her quirky food habits are a subtle nod to her upbringing, and thinking about it now, it makes sense as to why it never really sat right with me when people would callously make fun of her food combinations or rather treated them like a genuine character flaw to mock and demean her over.

It's used for comedy because when you hear certain struggle meals, they really don't be making any sense and sound disgusting! Yet at the same time, it's a result of having to make do with what you have and your tastes revolving around that.

Even with the consistency of Rangiku, someone who was found starving enjoying her food combinations - it makes me wonder if Rangiku is no stranger to eating weird things or combinations on occasion. It also contrasts with Toshiro who was shown not really enjoying the food combinations, but unlike Orihime or Rangiku, he's never really been shown starving or hungry in his backstory because he had his grandmother and Momo with him.

Because of that, it's kinda hard to chalk up Orihime's weird food tendencies and growing up poor to be a "lucky coincidence" because the other person who enjoys them too grew up similarly to her - where food was scarce. Given how seemingly well thought out it is, it makes me wonder if Kubo himself may have either had or knew someone who struggled with food scarcity.

[after-witch]

You Never Come Back, Not All the Way [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Title: You Never Come Back, Not All the Way [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Synopsis: You haven't thrown up in months, but all you want to do is eat. Part of the It's My Party series.

Word count: 2500ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, graphic eating disorder behavior including internal thoughts & actions

Outside, the world is moving and shaking, or so you hear. Villain attacks, media censorship, frightened people that don’t want to stay out late at night.

All of this is told to you by Tomura, who murmurs these things at an almost lullaby pace at night. Like it should lull you to sleep to know that he is (or he thinks he is) closer to his goal than ever before.

Inside, none of that matters. Attacks, heroes, villains, none of it makes a dent. All you can think about--all you know for certain in this capsule of a room you’re kept in is--

You want food.

No, not just food. You want something rich and hearty. Something you can dip into chili or stew, something that will pair well with watching a cooking challenge show or a scene from a restaurant in a movie. 

Bread would be nice. Nice bread would be even nicer. 

Not stale sandwich bread found in dumpsters or last-chance cheap brand pre-sliced white bread that was priced down to practically nothing (and it was stolen before it made its way to your plate, anyway).

But real bread, the kind you buy in loaves, the kind you can rip into hunks before spreading rich butter on it. The kind you stick on top of a bowl of stew so that it gets soft and the butter melts into the bread a little bit. 

The kind you dip into a stew, sopping up all the delicious rich beef and hearty vegetables before taking a big, chewy bite. 

Oh, fuck. Just one loaf of that kind of bread, please. 

It would be bliss.

If you asked, Tomura might try to get it for you. “Try” being the key word. You’d probably get a dented can of beef stew and one of those pre-sliced loaves of “French bread” that was always too soft and tasteless to really be satisfying. 

That’s what your life is, at the moment. Always having to settle for not-quite-the-same; settle for things that aren’t what you wanted but you’ll take them because it’s as close as you’ll get.

It’s not fair. None of it is. 

For another more pertinent example, you would also really love to throw up right now. 

Yes, yes, you’re supposed to be recovering. You’re not supposed to want to do that anymore. Tomura sits on you and distracts you and tells you that he likes you, so you don’t need to worry about things like weight. (He doesn’t get, no matter how much you try to tell him, that it’s not about how you look. Not really. It’s about what’s inside, literally, and you want to rip it all out.)

You think it’s the hunger that makes you want to throw up. Ironically enough. You’re not starving, exactly, but Tomura doesn’t exactly have an abundance of food. It’s not just you that needs to get fed, but the rest of the “League,” too. 

So those little hunger pangs that used to make you crow when you achieved them on purpose are now, instead, frustrating you. Making you sad. Making you feel weak.

Making you want to eat.

Right now--

You’d love to stuff your face with as much food as possible (the thought of ordering multiple pizzas comes to mind, or making a vat of something rich, spaghetti or a stew, and devouring it one night) and puke it out into the toilet. 

You’d love to feel the rush of adrenaline when you’re mid-session, the lightness that comes from emptying the contents of your stomach and watching it flush away. That feeling of power (however fake, and you know it’s so fucking fake, you’re not in control and never have been) that flushes your chest while vomit swirls down the toilet. 

But you can’t, for various reasons.

One, the toilet here is very unreliable. It clogs sometimes with just a little pee and paper, never mind what it might do with thick clumps of carb-heavy vomit. You’ve had to convince Tomura regarding the concept of a “courtesy flush,” something you never want to relive again on pain of death. 

Two, you don’t have enough food to actually binge and purge. There’s no abundance of food like there used to be, before he kidnapped you. So the act would just leave you empty, empty, empty--with nothing to fill it with later. Whether you keep it down the second time or not.

You just have to settle for not-quite-the-same. Which, at the moment, means chewing a muffin topped with possibly just-about-to-turn butter as slowly as possible. Savoring it. Imagining that you’re back home and you have an entire tray to eat.

In reality, you have just three, and they’re supposed to last you all day. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Combined with pre-cooked egg cups that taste smelly when you microwave them, and a few scattered bags of chips. But chips and eggs aren’t great for this not-quite-the-same activity. The texture isn’t the same… chips get stuck in your teeth, and there’s nothing satisfying about chewing an egg.

So a muffin it is.

You chew slowly, licking at your teeth with every bite so that the muffin doesn’t stick as much to your molars. The slowness, the solitude, gives you too much time to think.

 How long has it been since you threw up, anyway? Tomura (a small part of your brain says: you’re calling him Tomura? This nasty villain who has kidnapped you and wants to destroy life as you know it--you’re calling him Tomura?!”) went from positioning himself in front of the bathroom door to laying on you to keeping a watchful eye whenever you eat a decent meal. 

But even his watchful eye had more or less vanished, since you’ve been eating and… doing nothing after. 

And now, he trusts you to be alone. Even with food. Even with meals. Like he doesn’t even consider the idea that you’ll do it, because you haven’t, and you haven’t really wanted to, not in the same way, not-quite-and-all-that.

He trusts that you’re getting better. And some part of you is, but not in a way that leaves you feeling good. It’s a way that leaves you feeling--what? Pathetic? Like you’ve lost? Like you gave away something about yourself that made you better (it didn’t--it doesn’t) and now you’re just some good little moron who eats and keeps it inside. 

And it makes you feel empty. Not in the way you like. 

You just feel so hollow, whether he’s here, whether he’s not. Whether he watches you after you eat or doesn’t bother to look or leaves you alone, trusting that you’ll be fine. 

You’re alone right now, in fact, aren’t you? Until late tonight, if he comes back when he says he will.

The thought hits you too hard, and your hand pauses, half-eaten muffin trembling in mid-air.

He’s not here. He won’t be back for a long time. You could eat this muffin. You could wash it down with sink water, then eat the rest of the muffins, and all of the microwave egg meals, and every bag of half-eaten chips in this messy room, and then lean over the toilet and--

Before you know it, the heavy temptation has you sitting in front of the toilet, knees pressed hard against the tile. The half-eaten muffin is still in your hand, and you hold it up, tasting the clumpy crumbles stuck to the bottom of your front teeth.

The familiar scent of the bathroom, the feel of the hard tile pressing against your knees, almost makes puke come up on instinct. 

But, fuck, it’s been so long since you did it. You’ve been so good.

What if…

What if you just don’t puke? That would be okay. It would be safer. You wouldn’t get dizzy, and he wouldn’t be able to smell the vomit, there’d be no chance he’ll find the splashback under the rim and get pissed off afterwards.

Because you’d just be chewing and spitting it out, right? No biggie. 

So--you chew. Chew and chew until the crumbs are all wet and stuck together. Then you lean forward, open your mouth, and push it out with your tongue; the clumpy mess slides into the toilet with a splash. 

It’s a comforting, familiar feeling. The scent of toilet water, your knees pressed against the floor, the splash of technically undigested food hitting the water.

You take another bite. And do it again. And again. 

You don’t even hear the door to his room unlocking--the thunk of the lock covered, perhaps, by the splash of another lump into the toilet. You don’t hear him call your name. You don’t hear him walk, slow then faster, to the bathroom--

You don’t see his expression when he first stands in the doorway, seeing you kneeling before the toilet, mostly-gone muffin in hand, small mounds of food resting in the toilet bowl.

You only see his expression once he’s got four fingers wrapped around your upper arm--his pinky flies out at the last moment--and he yanks you up so hard you drop the muffin to the ground. He doesn’t waste time tugging you out of the bathroom, your socked feet slipping on the floor, and he doesn’t let go until he’s got you flung onto the mattress.

There are a few moments where the world feels topsy turvy, all buzzing and strange, before Tomura begins to pick at his neck and spits out the words, tinged with months of worn-out patience--

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

It makes your guts feel weak; it drains every ounce of high you got from spitting down to your toes, where it fizzles to nothing. Really, truly--

You wish he would have just slapped you, instead.

Tears sting your eyes and you sit up straighter on the mattress, pretending something like dignity.

“What’s wrong with you?” His eyes widen and his fingers still at your tone. Not angry, like he might have expected. But worse than that: low and guttural and hurt. “You kidnapped me! You don’t let me--you don’t let me do what I want, I can’t talk to anyone, I can’t even…” And the words go unsaid. You can’t even puke up your own damn food. 

Whatever words might have come next are lost when you simply begin to cry. Low, stupid, whimpering cries, the kind that choke up anything else you’d like to say.  A nasty, ugly cry that you know makes you look awful. 

And just like that, his own attitude clicks and shifts, and he’s kneeling on the mattress at your side. Rough knuckles rub against your tears and he mumbles apologies that all blur into one big “Hey-shit-I���m-sorry-I-was-too-rough-you’re-okay-fuck-hey-calm-down.”

It’s not until he pulls you close to his chest, forcing your cheek against it, that you can begin to calm down. It’s a ritual. Something done before, earlier on in your kidnapping. Not for a while, not until now, when all your awful thoughts come rushing back like a wave on an abandoned beach.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you,” he says, quietly, when you’ve stopped crying enough to let him be heard. “If you’re here, no one can hurt you. So that’s why…” He doesn’t finish, and he doesn’t need to; he’s told you all this before. 

If he hadn’t caught you throwing up, maybe he wouldn’t have kidnapped you at all. Or maybe he would have but a month down the line, or two months, a year. You could’ve enjoyed freedom just a bit longer.

Doesn’t matter, because he did catch you, and you are kidnapped, and you’re here now, on his mattress, getting comfort from his touch and words. 

Sniffles are childish as hell, you think, even as you sniffle and rub your nose.

“I didn’t throw up,” you mumble. Against you, he stills. You move your head back to look up at him and he looks at you like he’s about to say “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Before you can actually say it, you lick some food from the back of your teeth and move back a little more, intent on the truth.

“I was just chewing it. And spitting it out.” Somehow you keep eye contact with him--maybe because it feels right to explain it. To try to make him understand that it’s not like you were throwing up. He should be happy, even, that you were doing something like this instead. “It’s not a big deal,” you throw out, almost lightly, a half-laugh catching the edge of the last word. 

Tomura looks at you like it is, in fact, a big deal.

Which means you won’t be able to do it and I mean, fuck, you didn’t really think he’d be okay with it--you’re not that stupid. Not that naive. Just desperate, you think. Desperate for something to make you feel better when your mood takes this inevitable turn down food-control-food-control-food-control road.

All of it makes you want to cry again. It makes those stupid tears come back to the corners of your eyes, making your eyes feel all bulging and warm. It makes your mouth quiver, as you begin your pathetic complaint. 

“It’s not fair. I can’t do anything--I should be able to do this.” You gesture towards the bathroom, towards the mess you’ve left in there. Towards your chewed-up food in the toilet bowl. “I can’t live where I want or eat what I want or go to a movie or talk to my friends or--or--” There is an endless list of things you can no longer do, but Tomura doesn’t let you list them. Instead he gets off the bed.

It makes you stop crying, at least. If only out of surprise.

“That’s enough,” is what he says, voice strained, tired. The edge of patience is a thin one, apparently. You watch from the mattress as he walks into the bathroom; hear the toilet flushing, the sink running.

He comes back into the bedroom with a damp towel. There’s no gentleness as he, without an ounce of warning, straddles you against the mattress and wipes up your mouth.

“Tomu--” you begin, spluttering between wipes. “What--I don’t--you can’t--” 

But he ignores you until your face is cleaned, until it feels refreshed if not scrubbed a bit raw. He drops the wash cloth on the floor--you cringe, thinking about how you’ll have to pick it up later--and keeps you pinned against the bed.

His hair falls towards you, framing his face, ghosting against your scrubbed skin. He’s tired. You’re tired. It shows in the way he speaks now, in the way you give in without another struggle.  

“You gonna do it again?” 

You bite your cheek, tasting a bit of leftover muffin glob, and shake your head. 

--

“What game do you want to play?”

You blink at Tomura and don’t have an actual answer. He doesn’t usually let you pick the games. Especially when it’s a two-player game, and he’s usually picking the ones that make him look the best. Or so you assume; he’d denied it, when you felt lighthearted enough to make the jab once before.

“Why?” He frowns, and you press. “I mean. You usually pick.” 

He shrugs. “Just decided you can pick it tonight. Tomorrow, too. If you want.” 

Oh. It all slides together, like a children’s puzzle. 

You don’t have a lot of choices in your life, anymore. You don’t pick where you live or who touches you or who you talk to or what you can eat. But tonight--tonight you get to pick what game you’ll spend the next few hours playing, before you tell Tomura it’s late and you want to go to bed. 

Your choice.  For a few hours.

He’s throwing you a lifeline, or he imagines he is. 

It’s not much. 

But you have to take it for what it’s worth--which is, in the grand scheme of your little world, is a lot. 

[bubbles0bop]

Hiii! Can we have some Inumaki, Hakari and Nanami bf headcanons? + Anyone you'd like OFC!! :3

Relationship headcanons with the JJK Men

Includes: Nanami, Hakari, Inumaki, Choso

I like this one, you have good taste. Anddd i did take some liberty of adding choso because i've been feeling like writing him as well

Disclaimers: strong language, no gender specified, mention of smoking

Nanami

He's the type of boyfriend that will be spoiling you goddamn rotten

every month is a new bouquet of flowers trimmed and set in a vase on the kitchen counter

same with gifts. you'll come home to see the outfit you liked at the mall but couldn't afford, probably wrapped nicely in a black box

he's very thoughtful and meticulous, especially with dates

he'll plan for a while and make sure it's something you'll love

since he works such terrible hours, he really likes his quality time so he expects to come home to you and do nothing but cuddle or maybe do something like read together

this is random but i feel like he would be a massive critique for no reason

like "sweetie did you notice how tangy this loaf of bread tastes? do you think we should go back there next time?"

or when you're watching a movie it's not uncommon for him to say something like "ugh, this is so unrealistic, she would never fall for that type of trick."

I also think he would accidentally be really into it if you guys watched a kdrama together

Hakari

he's the type of guy that would say "wear what you want, i can fight." period.

he loves to talk- a professional yapper, if you will- but you love it

he talks your ear off about his hobbies (gambling) and some stupid people he may have had to deal with that day

he's pretty nonchalant in general and doesn't try to stress a lot over trivial stuff which means fights wouldn't last long

i get kind of a vibe that he would smoke some herb from time to time but he wouldn't shove it in your face if you don't want him to

he would love to share a coffee with you in the morning, and would probably order you both breakfast

i feel like with dates he's totally going to go with the flow but he loves new things so there's always something for you guys to do together, whether it's movies, or clubs.

Inumaki

your time together can sometimes be... quiet. 😭

i imagine that he's big on physical touch and doesn't care much about PDA (but he won't go too far)

i think his top two love languages are physical touch and acts of service

he's the type of guy that would become your personal nurse if you are sick or get your period

he's also the type where if you were chilling on your phone or reading a book he would do it with you, enjoying some peaceful silence

the jjk fan book mentions that he likes to do Youtube which brings the thought of what would he do on there if he can't exactly talk like the average person?

i'd say he makes cooking videos or posts the pranks that Panda and him do to their friends

he loves to eat with you, it's your thing. he would cook or bring you out to restaurants so you guys could rate the food

you, of course, have also learned his 2nd language over time and unlike megumi, you sometimes respond just like Inumaki does

Choso

honestly if i were to guess, i think he would show his partner love by telling them. very directly.

He's not too much of a cuddler but he'll do it immediately upon your request

He has a dry sense of humor, so dry that no one really knows if it's a joke or not

i think he is more outwardly protective of you than most- so if he catches anyone staring he'll yell at them to 'fuck off!'

I also don't think he would hold his opinions back just to make people happy so if you ask, "how do you think i look in this?" he'll say exactly how he feels- not really in an a insulting way, ever-more truthfully than hurtfully.

he likes to do things that you enjoy, like shopping and he'll help you pick out outfits

he, himself, would probably suggest dates that are calm and intimate, like picnic dates, stargazing, and maybe going out for smoothies/boba

i feel like he would love to try boba after you tell him about it, because he likes sweet things over bitter (like coffee)

i could imagine him being the type to grab your waist from behind while you're busy doing anything

he also really craves your attention when you aren't near him, even if he doesn't say that.

[kurooandkenmasslut]

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐗 𝐅!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎: 𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏, 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕? 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄'𝐒..

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ˢᵐᵘᵗ, ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢʸ, ⁿᵃⁿᵃᵐⁱ ⁱˢ ᵃ ˡⁱˡ ᵖᵒˢˢᵉˢⁱᵛᵉ, ᵍᵒʲᵒ, ᵃ ˡⁱˡ ᵒᵛᵉʳˢᵗⁱᵐᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ⁿᵃⁿᵃᵐⁱ ᵗⁱᵉˢ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ, ᵖʳᵉᵍⁿᵃⁿᶜʸ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ& ˡⁱˡ ᵐᵃᵈ ⁿᵃⁿᵃᵐⁱⁿ 🥰 ʲˢ ᵃ ˡⁱˡ ᵈʳᵃᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵐʸ ᵇˢᶠ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ˡᵐᵃᵒᵒ & ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ⁱ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˣˣ

𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒, 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 & 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

𝐌𝐘 alarm rang out throughout the room, making me quickly shut it off before my wife, Y/N, the sleeping beauty, wakes up. she isn't much of a morning person.

slowly walking to the bathroom to freshen up, I thought about the work I'll have to do today. The soft bristles against my teeth was slowly waking me up. Washing my face, i recalled Gojo-san informing me yesterday on the mountain of work I'll have to do, making me groan for the reminder. The usual.

going back to the bedroom, I kissed y/n's forehead, putting the blankets over her body. The bakery she owns doesn't open until another hour or so.

having a little time for myself, I took out the loaf of bread sitting on the counter, freshly made yesterday by Y/n. Putting the soft bread into the toaster, I checked my phone to see gojo spamming me with useless messages

7:47 Gojo Sataru ■■■■ 96%

Gojo: hey buddy! do u think u could ask ur wife if she can make me some kikufifu 😇💘🥹🥰🔥 7:40a.m

plzzzzzz 7:40a.m

plzzzzzzz me beg 🙁🙁👿👿 7:41a.m

nanaminnn don't make me come over there!! 7:41 a.m

4 missed calls from

Gojo Sataru at 7:43a.m

You: no. don't call me or text me unless it's about work. She will not be making you anything. Get it from the shop. She's sleeping. Make sure to be there early. We have a meeting with Yaga at 8am sharp. If you miss it again there will be consequences. 7:47a.m

Gojo: but itadori told me she makes it goodddd

fine. I'll swing by her bakery later then.

And no promises! 7:47a.m

God. Gojo does take the whole cake by bringing annoying first thing.

After eating his toast, he then made a move for work, sighing as he got in the Jujustsu High doors.

𝐘/𝐍 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

𝐈 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 the sign, now reading "𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍" in green. I had just finished making the pastries. A few customers rolled in, making me put on a big smile, despite how tired I was. It was almost time for nanami to finish at the school. he did mention yesterday he'll come by to collect some bread and you.

A few hours roller past, One customer in particular, stood out. He was a tall man, broad shoulders, a black blindfold, white hair and that very familiar uniform.

He was familiar. Nanami showed me a picture of him and called him 'Gojo', also labeling him as 'annoying'. So this is the man flooding my husbands phone. Strange behaviour, I must say.

"Hiya! Good morning! What can I get ya?" I say, the usual phrase I use.

"Hey, do you make kikufifu?" Gojo asked, a grin sliding onto his face.

"Sure do! Just not at the moment though as I don't have it in today. Sorry about that! Can I get you something else?" I proposed, interlocking my fingers with a small smile.

"You're Nanamins's wife, right?" So he does know nanami. Interesting.

"Mhm! I'm assuming you are.. Goyo? Goko?"

"Its gojo.. but I can let silly mistakes slide for a pretty girl like you. Actually forget that. Call me satoru."

I smiled a bit. "Why thank you, Satoru. but seriously, what can I get you?" I asked, I really wanted to get this over with. Don't get me wrong, Gojo seems nice and he is attractive, but im not unfaithful, and I think nanami is cuter anyway...

"Eh, it's fine, I'll come in tomorrow for that mochi, sweet cheeks. Just worry about getting that kikufifu ready for me, just the way I like it. Little Baker girl." He smirked and ruffled my head.

Who does this man think he is? He just got confirmation that I am married, with his co-worker. My eye twitched in frustration, I can't get mad at my customers.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing, Gojo? Get your hands off my wife. I'd appreciate if you don't call her nicknames aswell." A familiar voice called out through the small bakery. A firm, slightly veiny hand clutched onto Gojo's shoulder. The hand had a very, familiar watch, the one you gifted to a certain someone.

Gojo chucked before turning around. A cheeky grin plastered on his face.

"I was just about to leave, no need to get your pants in a twist! I'll leave you two lovebirds at it yeah?" Gojo says, before waving his hand, still, with that still cheeky smile.

Nanami sighed. Now that Gojo was would of thr way, you could see Nanami's face. His perfectly plucked eyebrows was furrowed and his jaw was clenched. He gritted his teeth a bit. You weren't gonna lie, you rubbed your thighs together a bit.

"I'm sorry about him darling. He can- no.. is a menace. I'll talk to him when I get back to the school." Nanami muttered, plastering a kiss on your forehead. Your cheeks dusted a pink before you got the bread Nanami likes and out it on the counter.

Putting it in the bag, slipping in a few sweet treats, you handed him the bag and gave him a kiss on the lips. He wore a small smile.

"Thank you dear. You are only 𝑴𝒀 Baker girl, right?"

Some may think in an innocent way, some may think in a other way. And in this case, its the other way.

"Not only do you make things that taste good, you 𝑨𝑳𝑺𝑶 taste good."

Cry. That's all you did. Big fat tears streamed down your sweet, little face. Running down and getting caught by the tie you're mouth is being muffled by.

You've came how many times these past few hours of the night? His mouth? His fingers? None. You practically scream into the tie as you feel yourself gonna cum soon. You're brain tried to think if he's gonna let you cum tonight at all.

"Mmh!" You screamed, your restrains around your wrists and ankled tight against the bed.

Nanami licked a slow, almost a teasing lick up your pussy, watching your every move. His strong hand pushed your arching hips while his other occupied with opening your legs even wider.

"You know, this is your punishment, right? You let that man touch you so freely, as if your husband wasn't standing behinf him. You should know for next time, yeah?" You screamed out a somewhat positive response, making his grin wider.

He took his tie out of your mouth, letting you have you chance to speak.

"Baby, let me cum! Please! I'm begging you!"

"Hmm.. why should I?" He asked. He then slithered his thick cock in the for the first time tonight, hitting your g-spot continuously.

You panted and moaned trying to get your words out. And you knew already, if you don't get it out now, you won't come at all tonight.

"P-Please! Mhh! Fuck- I.. I w-wont let him in my sh-hah... shop a-again! Please ken-toooo!" You managed to drag out.

"Tsk.. fine."

You were chasing your high while his one hand held your hips to cause a bruise, the other rubbed your clit. His hips moved like crazy. You knew you would have to use something to hold you upright tomorrow. But that's not something you thought or worried about right now. All you worried about was cumming.

"Mhh! S'too much, Ken! 'S too big!" You cried out.

"You can take it, like you always do yeah? Always say that.. yet you take me in beautifully."

Drool ran down your mouth like a crazed animal, but you didn't care. All you were seeing was stars at the back of your skull while nanami was chasing his high. You came, hard. You held on to the tie that's holding you down for support.

Nanami panted, sweat sliding down his face.

"Hah.. inside or.. outside?" He asked. Kids. You and Nanami have talked about kids before. You two had jobs, definitely financially stable for another being, you do have a few guests room, so none of that is stopping you.

So what is?

Nothing.

"Ins-side!" You cried out, nanami looked up, unsure.

"You sure?" He asked, massaging the spot where he bruised your hip.

"Yes!" That's was all he needed to release.

You both stayed where you were, both panting.

Nanami then pulled out, his cum oozing out. He grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand, handing it to you. You mumbled a 'thank you' to him before gulping it down. After getting set free from your bounds to the bed, you thought it was over. You really did. That was until nanami stated,

"Alright, all fours now. If you want a baby, you're getting stuffed to the 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑴."

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Buzz | NSFW

Ahahaha it goes buzz in this one, guys.

Unedited Drabble

Pairings Xavier x Reader Warnings Public Play, Vibrators in Ass, Bottom Xavier Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier let out a sigh as you two made your way to the store. His hand holding your own with his fingers laced between yours. He had a content smile on his face as he bumped his shoulders into your own. You looked up at him, shooting him a smirk.

"And pray tell, what has you so happy, bunny?" you asked, already knowing the answer. He had a subtle blush on his cheeks and despite how embarrassed he was with the current situation, he couldn't help the excitement building in him. He tugged at the hem of his cardigan with his free hand, playing with the edges of it.

"It's nothing," he assured you as you finally got to the store. The air was cooler than it was outside as you made your way in. You looked over the list of items you needed to grab and looked over at him.

"Alright, come on, baby boy," you said, not even bothering to be quiet. He tensed up for a moment at the blatant nickname, but it wasn't like there was anyone else around at the moment. He let go of your hand as he took the list from you, going over the items on it.

"We should start with things that don't need to be in the fridge," he murmured, already walking over there. You chuckled, your own hands in your hoodie pocket. The nice white fabric was soft and cozy, as one would expect from a hoodie owned by Xavier.

You watched as he looked down the aisle until he found what he needed. You couldn't stop yourself from playing with the little remote in your pocket, the smooth object only being interrupted by the buttons.

Then you watched Xavier kneel down. You checked the surrounding area and once you were certain it was clear, you clicked it on. The reaction was immediate as Xavier dropped the loaf of bread he was picking up. A small gasp escaping him as his shoulders tensed up. Really it had been him to suggest this kind of play. Your naughty bunny always having fun ideas for the two of you.

Still, the shit eating grin on your face spread as you watched him slowly turn his head. His face had a giant flush on it and he adorned a pout. Those cerulean eyes pleading with you as you clicked it off. You were satisfied with the fact that the buzzing couldn't really be heard, but you just knew he felt every single piece of the prostate massaged he had up his tight heat.

"D-did you really turn it to the highest setting," his voice was a hushed whisper and you couldn't help but laugh, covering your mouth to stifle the grin.

"Babes…that was not the highest setting," your voice was also low as you looked around. Then you clicked the toy again, putting it as high as it would go. This time you could hear the buzz of it and it had him dropping on his knees, using his hands to support him in the middle of the aisle as he covered his mouth to stop the moan.

You were quick to turn it off for his sake, not wanting to draw any attention. While this was fun for the two of you, you highly doubted any onlookers would be impressed. Xavier took a moment to catch his breath, shooting you a small glare. He stood up on slightly wobbly feet and coughed into his fist.

"You were right," he mumbled out. You couldn't stop yourself from taking hold of his shirt and quickly dragging him down for a kiss.

"Sweetheart, did you need to use the restroom real fast?" you muttered against him. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly. He tried clearing his throat as he looked around. His hand going to cover his mouth and look away from you.

"I'll be fine," you clicked it again at his words and his hand found purchase on your shoulder as you turned it back off, "I think," he got out.

"We'll see about that. We're only on our first item of the evening. You going to be okay? Still want to do this?" you asked, giving him an out if he needed it. You guys hadn't even tested the toy before going into public with it.

Xavier only cleared his throat and nodded, "Yes, I am very okay," he took your hand and began leading you through the store, his pace quicker now.

[allfryam]

freshman 50 (freshman 15 part 2)

Jake was delusional. He had gained over 15 pounds in the few months he had been at college and he didn’t even know it. He still saw himself as the perfect image of a man. His smooth abs we’re completely gone and he had a bit of a belly covered in a small layer of peach fuzz. Even Ben had noticed jakes weight gain. And he liked it. Ben had a crush on Jake since the moment they became roommates. The perfect brown hair, the ocean blue eyes, and Jake only became hotter as his stomach grew.

Ben realized that Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that he was getting fat. Ben wanted to keep it that way. Whenever Jake would say something about feeling big or eating too much, Ben would shut that idea down by telling Jake how great he looked. He even convinced Jake that the washing machine on campus would shrink his clothes. “Ohhh. That explains why my pants won’t button” Jake would say. Ben would often take jake out for pizza or burgers. Jake would end up eating an entire pizza all by himself because Ben would claim he wasn’t hungry and jake hated wasting food.

by Christmas time, jake had a proper dad bod. His expanding stomach was beginning to hang over his belt and push tight against his biggest shirts. His belly wasn’t the only thing growing either. His ass had gotten significantly larger than before. It would even bounce when he walked. Ben loved it. His thighs had also become thicker. Even his perfect jawline was beginning to fade. When all of his classes stopped for winter break, jake wasn’t getting nearly as much exercise as usual. He would play video games in his underwear and have fast food delivered to his dorm.

jake never told anyone he was gay. He was way too embarrassed to let anyone know. He was even more embarrassed to tell anyone he had a crush on Ben. Ben was so nice to him and he had the perfect body. The dad bod kind of grew on him. One night, jake mustered up the courage to ask Ben out. Ben said yes of course. They would go on dates all the time. Ben would take him to dinner; and jake would devour everything in his sight.

one night, jake decided to step on the scale to make sure he still had his perfect body. 200 pounds. At first, jake was shocked. But he realized the scale must be broken. There was no way he had almost gained 50 pounds in the span of a single semester. He decided to ask ben. “ do I look fat?” “What? No way! You’ve got the perfect body dude”. “But the scale said I was 200 pounds”. “Yikes” ben thought to himself. He knew Jake was getting fat but not THAT fat. “The scale is probably just broken” ben said. “Yeah. You’re right”

holiday treats had a big impact on jakes body. He would go the the store and see fresh treats at the bakery and he couldn’t resist. He would come home with 10 different types of cookies, eggnog, sweet breads, and candies. All of it would be gone by the end of the week. One day he was really hungry and he finished a batch each of gingerbread cookies, chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, brownies, a gallon and a half of eggnog, a loaf of sweet bread, a slice of cake, and a bag full of peppermint m&ms. Not to mention the McDonald’s he had for lunch. Ben didn’t think it was possible to eat that much and survive but here was Jake. Doing it with ease.

when new years came, Jake only had one resolution. Get bigger clothes. None of his clothes fit anymore. Even his baggy sweatpants were skin tight. Bens New Year’s resolution was to make Jake hit 250 pounds without him noticing. This would prove to be a lot easier than Ben thought because little did he know, in December alone, Jake had gained another 35 pounds. Jake was huge. His average dad bod was now a round ball of a stomach. Ben measured it in his sleep one time. 50 inches. Jake had let the peach fuzz on his stomach grow to a nice hairy gut. His ass was also getting to be huge. It would stretch out his pants like crazy and bounced like a wild balloon. His perfect jawline was now replaced by a proper double chin. Jake didn’t even have to look down for it to show. It was always there. Growing. Jakes perfect pecs we’re now large moobs that sat nicely on his large gut. Even Jakes hands were starting to get chubby. They were turning into little greedy sausages. Jakes entire body would move when he walked. He would get out of breath just walking to class. But Ben wasn’t done fattening him up. He had big plans.

[huboi]

☆ - GUINEA PIG HYBRID READER FT MULTIPLE JJK MEN !

╰┈➤ includes; gn! hybrid reader, mainly focused on reader squeaking and the guys falling heads over heels all over again, mentions of eating food

╰┈➤ a/n; this fic is heavily inspired by @appleblueberry-pie s’ post on Guinea pig hybrid reader with jjk men, tysm for letting me use this for a fic 🧡

SATORU GOJO

when satoru first met you, he was instantly in love

you’re guessing that it’s mainly due to your unusual features such as small ears and a tiny barely noticeable tail

he hasn’t seen many hybrids in the sorcerer world, other than panda

one thing that gave him a huge fright was when you first squealed out of nowhere when he brought home some sweet treats

he was very concerned that you were in pain or injured in some way, only to be relieved once told you involuntarily tend to squeal when you get excited

after this experience he tries his best to excite you when possible, since he can’t get enough of your squeaks

always refrains from just squishing your cheeks together in response

man wants to keep you in his pocket

GETO SUGURU

enjoys hearing your squeals

he becomes extra soft when he hears them

one second he’s tearing down another pathetic useless monkey

and the next he’s practically cooing as you squeal in happiness once he comes back from his cult to visit you

you also tend to purr like a cat, especially when he sits you on his lap

his heart fucking melts

loves giving your ears little scritches since it makes you practically vibrate on top of him whilst putting like a lil’ kitty

if you’re unable to speak whilst squealing then he doesn’t mind, he actually finds it enduring how you can’t talk when squealing in joy

yes his daughters also love you so much, they both think you’re the cutest thing they’ve ever seen

NANAMI KENTO

man damn near shat himself the first time you started squeaking

it was when he came home from the usual sorcerer work, and he had a fresh loaf of bread to share with you

you just couldn’t hold back your excitement

you were so embarrassed afterwards, hiding your face behind your hands as nanami looked at you with concern

stuttering, you explained to him that you tend to squeak uncontrollably when you get excited

nanami finds it relaxing when you perch yourself on his lap and start purring in content

he low-key finds it very therapeutic and it helps him destress after a hard day at work

he finds it very cute and unique how you make certain noises when feeling different emotions, gives you more character in his book

won’t admit it but he always finds himself with a little smile plastered on his face when around you

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he’s such a meany about your squeaks :(

always teases you whenever you make animal noises

“aww, you happy to see me sweet thing? why didn’t you just say so?” he’ll coo whilst squishing your cheeks together before giving you a small yet sloppy kiss onto both cheeks

your squeaks scare him at times, but you won’t hear that from him

sometimes he’ll just be chilling then all of a sudden loud ass squeals echo throughout the house and he nearly has a heart attack

actually enjoys hearing you purring, especially sat on his lap

9 times out of 10 pretty much forces you on his lap or chest when you start purring

he actually seems to become less stiff and more calm when you purr on him

sometimes forgets you’re a hybrid and so gets a small surprise when he spots your lil ears on top of your head

CHOSO KAMO

has never in his 150 years of life seen a hybrid at all

very curious of your existence

will ask lots of questions even when you get into a relationship, he’s just a really curious fella what can he say?

he asks them so that he understands you better

when you first squeaked was when he gave you a small kiss on the lips, he was worried he did something wrong

only to be proven wrong when you snuggle up against the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around his body whilst your squeaks slowly but surely turn into content purrs

he melts into your embrace, he’s never felt this content in life other than when he’s with his brothers

your squeaks give him serotonin, he can’t live without your squeaks

enjoys how when he makes spaghetti that you start squeaking even before the foods ready, he concludes that you simply enjoy food so much

SUKUNA RYOMEN

claims that your presence annoys him to no end, especially your squeaks and purrs

then when you stop making those noises around him he feels…. sad?

not even an hour later and he’s telling you that he actually doesn’t mind your noises, low key is fond of them, but he won’t straight up admit he likes them, he’s too far up his own ass to admit when he likes something

he has probably seen hybrids at some point during his thousand plus years of existence, but even he’s aware of how rare hybrids are in the jujutsu world

your happy squeaks make him feel things he’s never felt before

the same goes for your purring

if he’s been gone for a long amount of time, you’ll rush up to him and embrace his muscular body as tight as possible whilst you purr which causes your body to vibrate against his

he finds it weird how your body vibrates when you purr

© content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

[jpitha]

You can have a little lye as a treat

“I want to make Maya her favorite food, can you help?” Limmie looks over the table in the canteen at Peggy, the only other human she knows here.

“Uh, maybe Lim, what’s her favorite food? Also, you know that most human foods…”’

“Are toxic to me, yes I know. This one doesn’t seem to bad though? It’s mostly wheat. I can eat wheat, though I shouldn’t eat too much. It’s just wheat and water, some sugar, yeast and salt.”

Peggy thinks a moment. “Some kind of bread?”

Limmie’s nod is so vigorous her ears flutter. “Yeah, something called a pretzel”

“So… that’s not all that’s involved in pretzels.” Peggy stands. “But, I think we can work something out. Come on, let’s sign out a kitchenette.”

A few days later, Limmie comes to the kitchenette that Peggy signed out. They get it for a whole day, which surprised Limmie. “It’s just bread right? Why do we need it for a whole day?”

“Well, we have to give time for the yeast to work.” Peggy is wearing an apron that says “Let’s Get Baked!” And has a cartoon of a bread loaf with bloodshot eyes. She’s getting bowls out and arranging things on the steel table in front of her. “Her favorite is German pretzels?”

“That’s right. She said that she misses them because only her Grandmother makes them right. She sounded so wistful.” Limmie washes her hands, and as she dries them, Peggy hands her a smaller apron. On the front is written “Made from Scratch!” And has a cartoon K’laxi showing their claws. Limmie looks at Peggy who is trying very hard not to laugh. She puts the apron on and flicks her ears in a grin.

Peggy spend the time showing Limmie what to do to make the dough, but she doesn’t do it. It’s for Limmie’s girlfriend, so she does the work. She mixes the flour and the water and the yeast and while is proofs, Peggy explains how the yeast works and what it’s doing. Limmie leans in close and smells the yeasty smell and is amazed that human foods can get this… complicated.

Soon enough the bread has risen and been punched down and shaped and… Peggy is putting on a large rubber apron, heavy gloves and a face shield. Limmie stands back “Uh, Peggy, what are you doing?”

“Oh, the pretzels aren’t done yet, they need a Lye bath.”

“What’s that?”

Peggy’s voice is slightly muffled from the shield. “Oh, Lye is a human word for Sodium Hydroxide, a very strong alkaline chemical. It is quite caustic to organic tissue.”

Limmie takes an unconscious step back. “But, what are you doing then? You’re going to ruin our bread!”

“No no, this is an important step. The pretzels won’t look or smell or taste right unless we dip them in lye.”

“You’re going to DIP the pretzels into a strong alkaline solution?”

Peggy turns, holding another rubber apron, gloves, and face shield. “No. You’re going to.”

“This isnt’ a joke? You’re not trying to make fun of me for not understanding human cookery? You really have to dip the pretzels in that caustic chemical?”

Peggy lifts up her face shield. Her eyes are kind. “Limmie, I would never do that to you. I promise, this will make the pretzels just like how Maya remembers them.”

Tail flicking, Limmie takes the PPE from Peggy. “How do I put this on?”

“I’ll show you, come here.”

****

“Oh gosh Limmie, these are perfect! Where did you get them?” Maya’s eyes are squeezed shut in bliss as she chews the warm pretzels. “They taste just like the ones Nana made!”

“Peggy helped me make them. She showed me exactly what to do, but I did the work.”

Maya swallows and looks at Limmie, eyes wide. “You made these? You made German Pretzels with the lye bath and everything?”

Limmie falls into Maya’s arms and snuggles down into her chest. “Of course I did. I had to wear some personal protective equipment, but Peggy showed me how to be careful and she explained we needed the lye to get it just right. I wanted to make something just for you that I knew you’d love.”

Maya squeezes Limmie and strokes her ears. “They’re wonderful hon. Thank you.”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

October 1: "I've Got You"

Draco Malfoy had had more than his fair share of humiliating moments. There seemed to be no shortage of things in his memory that made him simply want to crawl out of his skin with embarrassment, but this had to be one of the most horrifically mortifying things to ever happen to him.

His bank card was being declined at the check out. Face and neck heating horribly, he looked at the items he had to try to decide what to put back; a loaf of bread, sliced cheese, a jar of apple sauce, a jar of peanut butter, a dozen eggs, and a container of yogurt. "Oh," he said, heart racing as he tried to get past his anxiety to make a decision.

"Here," the man in line behind him said, "I've got you."

He turned, ready to decline his help, but those words fell away in favor of a spluttered, "Potter?"

"Hey, Malfoy," the other man said, nudging him out of the way with his elbow to insert his own card into the machine.

"No-" he started, too late.

Potter looked over at him, then back at his card, "I've got it," he said softly. And somehow there was compassion and understanding in his voice without any pity.

"I-" he tried again, looking at the fresh fruits and vegetables, the rice and potatoes, meats, and other delicious foods that Potter had piled on the belt behind him.

"Don't worry about it," he said before Draco could get any other words out. "Seriously," he added, looking at Draco from under his fringe, looking like he was the one feeling embarrassed as he pulled his card out of the machine and a receipt was printed.

Draco took his bag from the cashier and all but fled the store.

He wasn't too far, though, when he heard a set of footsteps jogging to catch up with him. "Hey-"

"Thank you," he said politely, "I-"

"No," Potter said, shaking his head. "Don't thank me. I just-" he broke off and Draco stared, waiting for him to continue.

When no other words were forth coming, he said, "If you were wanting to make fun of me-"

"No," Potter said, shaking his head vigorously. "No. Shit," he ran his hand through his hair. "Look, come to my house for dinner."

He blinked, "Excuse me?"

"I'm just making up a stir fry," he rambled on, "Nothing fancy just some rice, peppers, snap peas, onions, broccoli, steak, and some teriyaki sauce-"

"I'm fine," Draco said, even as his stomach growled at the thought of eating some actual fresh vegetables.

"Please," Potter said, grabbing his wrist to prevent Draco from turning away.

"Why?" he asked and he wondered if Potter could hear all of the questions in his head why would you help me? What's in it for you? Why aren't you mocking me? Do you just want to mock me in your home? What will this cost me?

Potter swallowed and looked down at his feet, "I know what it's like to not have enough," he said softly. "I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Just," he huffed, "Come on. Let me feed you dinner. Please."

"You have an insufferable martyr complex." he snapped but before he could go anywhere, Potter spoke up again.

"My aunt and uncle," he said, "they didn't feed me enough. I fucking hate peanut butter sandwiches. No one should eat them day in and out. Just," he shook his head, "let me make you some dinner. You don't have to stay to eat it, you don't have to talk to me, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"And that's it? You just want me to come to your house and eat your food?"

"That's the gist of it, yeah," Potter said, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not going to drag you to my house or anything because that would be creepy," he said when Draco didn't reply, still weighing his options, "but I'd really like to do this for you."

"Alright," he whispered, still feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed but also a deep longing for vegetables.

Potter grinned at him, bright and charming, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "Brilliant. Come on then."

And that was the first time that Draco found himself having dinner with Harry Potter, but it certainly wasn't the last.

By the time he left that evening, with a full belly and a container of leftovers, he'd let himself be convinced to come back the following week. A weekly dinner on Wednesday became a Wednesday dinner and a Saturday dinner, which became dinner every other night. And then before he quite knew how it had happened, he was at his house every night for dinner, staying later and later like he never wanted to leave.

Because the truth was that he didn't want to leave. Harry listened to him talk about his dreams, about how hard he was working in the muggle nursing program he was enrolled in, about his shitty job that didn't pay enough. He loved Harry's cat, Milo. He loved looking at Harry's art and listening to him talk about the creative process of making it. He loved hearing about Harry's childhood and getting to talk about his own. He loved having someone to do the mundane things in life with like cooking, chatting, watching telly, even just having someone to sit on the other end of the couch while he studied.

Still it took him by surprise one evening when they were making waffles and bacon for dinner, Harry was at the stove and Draco was cutting up strawberries, when the other man said, "Hey, Draco?"

"Mmhmm?" he hummed around the strawberry that he'd popped in his mouth.

"You know how your job is shit?"

He laughed, "I do. Thanks for reminding me."

"Right," he said, glancing over his shoulder at him, "But what if you didn't have to pay rent, would that make things easier?"

"It would," he said slowly, not allowing his heart to rise, not allowing himself to hope.

Harry nodded, "Do you think you might ever consider moving in with me?" he asked. "No pressure or anything, but I have an extra room," he continued, "well, five, actually. And Sirius gave me the house, so I own it, and-"

"Harry," he said softly, fingers lighting on the other man's bicep to get him to slow down. "I would love to, but I can't take advantage of your generosity."

"You wouldn't have to," he said earnestly. "If you're not paying for rent, you could maybe help with the cost of groceries, if you feel like you need to. But I don't have a ton of expenses, and I have a stupid amount of money, and a ridiculously large house for one person," he babbled. "And I just really like you," he blurted before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Draco blinked at him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "You like me?"

Harry nodded, hand still firmly in place over his mouth.

"I like you too," he said softly. "But I don't want you to feel like I only like you because of what you can give me."

He dropped his hand, a tiny smile blossoming on his face, "I hoped you might." Harry reached over and took Draco's hand, "I don't think that you only like me for what I can give you. You see me and hear my words, you know me. I'd really like it if you stayed."

And really, who was Draco to deny Harry Potter anything that he wanted? So he stayed.

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

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Andrew | In Spite Of It | Romantic

Andrew keeps running into you - first around John the Baptist, then around Jesus - and in spite of you being Roman, maybe some things are just meant to be.

Requested by: Chey

“No – ew-ew-ew – stop that John! Get away!” Your disgusted giggles drift across the small makeshift camp as your adoptive brother chases you with a freshly killed locust in his hand and the sound causes Andrew’s gut to turn into a swarm of butterflies spreading all throughout his system. 

In spite of his age, John the Baptiser has not lost his playful spark that he allows to come out every so often. That also means that he ends up chasing you with all kinds of bugs in an attempt to have you eat them, and eventually eating them right in front of you, much to your disgust. 

It has become a running gag that your Roman origins have made you averse to eating locusts, even though you had grown up in the household of Elizabeth and Zechariah from the age of seven months, after they had found you on the side of the road wailing loudly next to your collapsed mother. John, only four at that time, had always seen you as an actual younger sister. Never mind the suspicious glances often sent your way, as well as the rumours that you were some kind of Roman spy. Your adoptive family, however, didn’t love you any less than if you had been their own.

“Come on, just a little piece!” John cackles, trying to shove the locust into your face, and you slap away his hand, “Maybe with a bit of honey on it?” 

You shake your head, pulling a face. “Never!”

Philip chuckles as he sits down next to Andrew. “Can you believe these two?” he says with playful amusement. “I’d say they’re obviously one another’s flesh and blood, but it’s not like they actually are.”

“They act just like Simon and I.” Andrew breathes, taking a bite of his bread. “(Y/n) really doesn’t like these bugs. I just wish John would stop teasing her with it.”

Philip raises an eyebrow. “How so? It’s not like she’s in actual distress. It’s just good-natured teasing, and if (Y/n) really didn’t want John to mess with her, she’d have said so. It doesn’t seem like that much of a problem. Don’t you and Simon roughhouse from time to time? Does it mean you want someone to intervene?”

Andrew shakes his head and shrugs. “I suppose not, depending on the context.” Philip gives him a knowing smile as he observes Andrew’s gaze on you. 

The younger son of Jonah turns his eyes back to his friend next to him, who has a small smirk on his face. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just… Offer her some bread.”

Andrew looks at the loaf in his hand. There’s not much left but he knows that you haven’t eaten anything at all. Philip makes a very valid point and the fisherman clears his throat. 

“Ah, (Y/n)?” 

You shove back John with a grin on your face before turning to the man who called your name. “Yes?” Your face softens as you settle your eyes on Andrew.

He takes a deep breath. “Would you– Uh, would you like some of my bread?” 

Your lips curl upwards, revealing the smile that has Andrew often weak at the knees. “Please.” you earnestly say, “That’s very kind of you, thank you.” 

As you approach the curly-haired fisherman, John clicks his tongue. “Way to ruin the fun, Andrew! I was so close to having her finally try a bug!” The Baptist says so in good humour, mirth glittering in his eyes. You click your tongue and roll your eyes before plopping down next to Andrew, slightly out of breath from fighting your older brother. 

“Thank you, Andrew. You’re the best!”

The praise turns Andrew into a shy, stuttering mess. “Y-You’re welcome. Here.” He hands you the rest of his loaf and you take it, letting your gaze go from him to the bread. 

“All of it?”

He nods. “All of it. I’ve had enough.”

“Are you sure?” 

Once again, Andrew gives you a positive answer. “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.” he whispers. You smile softly at him, maintaining a moment of meaningful eye-contact before saying a short prayer. 

“Amen.” Andrew and Philip both conclude as you finish, and you sink down your teeth into the loaf of bread, which is delightful in spite of its staleness. Being on the road makes it easier to digest less fresh food.

Andrew watches discreetly as you consume it with a content look on your face, your eyes turned to the horizon. He tries calming himself, wondering what he should do with these feelings he harbours towards you. 

_ 

A long while passes, and at a certain point in time John announces that he should carry on part of his ministry by himself. To prepare the way, as he says so cryptically, and even though none of John’s followers really understand what he means by that, it’s clear that the journey is drawing to a close. Andrew knows he will be returning to Capernaum soon and he wonders if and when he will see you again.

You’re just saying goodbye to a few of the other followers when Andrew approaches you with sweaty palms, his heart racing in his chest as he sees your disarming smile as you embrace a few of John’s students, wishing them all the best and expressing your hope to meet them again some day. It seems that none of them take issue with you being Roman, even if they did so at the start of their journey alongside the Baptiser. 

He clears his throat which prompts you to look over your shoulder, and the moment he sees your (e/c) eyes glitter curiously at him, he feels his heart skip a pleasant beat. It takes him a second to gather himself to speak up. “Uh, shalom, (Y/n).”

“Shalom, Andrew.” In spite of you being a Gentile, you have always used the Jewish greeting. He takes a deep breath to respond.

“Aren’t you sad that this is all over now?”

You smile a little wistfully. “A little,” you admit, “But you know that this is not over.” Leaning slightly closer to him, you bring your voice down to a whisper. “It’s just the beginning. Everything John has been preaching will now be put into practice.”

Andrew can’t help but smile at that. Not only are your words true, your proximity is equally disarming. “I can’t argue with that. Will we see each other again?”

Hope flickers in your eyes. “I’m certain that we will.” you murmur, “Just so you know, I can be found around John in his upcoming ministry to support him.”

The fisherman nods a little. “Good to know.” he breathes, and for a long moment the two of you stare at one another in a silence that’s far from unpleasant. You feel your heart flutter at his boyish smile and the way his curls are played with by the wind.

“On that note, shalom, Andrew. God bless you.”

“God bless you too,” he replies, “Shalom shalom.”

Although you’ve reassured him that this isn’t the last you’re seeing of one another, it still sends a pang of hurt through Andrew’s chest as you head back to your brother’s side, giving him a hug and ruffling up his hair. The sight gets Andrew to lightly chuckle, for it’s a recognisable scene between him and Simon as well. Siblinghood, he has learnt over the past months of knowing you and John, goes beyond blood.

With a heavy heart, Andrew grabs his small bag of belongings, hoisting it over his shoulder before starting the trek back to Capernaum alongside a few other followers of John. 

He’s unsure how he’d ever forget about you, but he knows that his old life is waiting for him now. 

The fishing sloop is already calling out to him.

_

John’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. His radical language coupled with his unique, familiar  edge makes it so that Andrew doesn’t need to come closer to the front in spite of him standing quite a bit away.

It takes him only a moment to spot you; even though you’re wearing a new veil, your (h/c) peeks out from under it, and it sends a pleasant smile over the fisherman’s face. 

He’s been thinking about you more than he’d ever dare to admit.

On the other hand, he’s been on your mind, too.

You have been supporting John in his ministry by standing close to him these past few weeks as he’s been preaching to people at the Jordan River. John doesn’t need someone to gather the crowds for him - not anymore - so you gladly support your brother in other ways. It’s only a matter of time before He will show up. 

As John’s controversial words tear through the air, your gaze momentarily falls on Andrew. It’s unmistakably him, and you share a brief smile that feels longer than it is. Something shimmers in your eyes as it does in his. Something unsaid, yet so obvious. 

You’re almost overcome by the urge to walk through the crowd to embrace the fisherman, but you stand your ground when another familiar face suddenly enters your peripheral view. 

It’s unnecessary to turn to John to tell him about His arrival. John’s bony hand reaches out to point at Jesus, and the masses turn as one to look upon Him.

“See! The Lamb of God Who takes away the sin of the world!” John’s words cause your heart to stutter, “I have been talking about Him. I said, ‘One is coming after me Who is more important than I, because He lived before I was born.’ I did not know who He was, but I have come to baptise with water so the Jews might know about Him.”

You can hear a pin drop despite dozens of people having gathered on the shore, everyone turned to Jesus as He approaches John, halting in front of him. The two cousins exchange a few words, and Jesus eventually takes off His sandals, stepping into the river.

Giving them some space, you decide to find Andrew, who cannot take his eyes off the scene taking place right in front of him. You brush up next to him, slightly touching his arm to greet him. “Shalom Andrew,” you whisper, “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, (Y/n),” he mutters, too focused on Jesus to take his gaze away from Him. “Is this He Who John has been preaching about, then?”

“Just watch.” you whisper in response.

With your eyes trained on your childhood friend Jesus, you watch how He lowers in the water, momentarily enveloped by it, and as He rises to the surface, heaven opens up.

You don’t need to say a word as a dove sits down upon Him, overcome by the words that proclaim who He is.

“This is My beloved Son, with Whom I am well pleased.”

_

It goes without question that Jesus’ call for you to follow Him received your full submission without any hesitation whatsoever. 

Simon Peter doesn’t like it one bit. Raised Jewish or not, you’re still a Roman by blood, one that grew up alongside Creepy John no less. 

You find the older son of Jonah glaring at you from time to time as you sit around the fire with your friends Mary, Philip and Little James. You don’t pay him any mind, your attention divided between the Messiah and Andrew accordingly. 

Andrew, now travelling in such close proximity to you, far from opposed to the fact that he gets to see you practically every day again, has a difficult time keeping his own emotions and feelings for you at bay. He is aware that your adoptive parents are no longer amongst the living, so he knows that if he were to ask for your hand in marriage, he’d have to ask John. Not that he was required to do so by law - you were Roman after all - but he likes the symbolism behind it. 

His older brother is quick to catch on. Had it been any other woman, Simon would have teased him about it. This time, however, Simon isn’t pleased in the slightest.

One evening, when he catches Andrew staring at you across the fire as you’re in conversation with Ramah and Tamar, he brushes up next to his younger sibling with crossed arms, making himself appear taller. “I know what you’re thinking,” he accuses with a sharp tone that’s close to a hiss, “And the answer is no.”

Feeling caught in the act, Andrew’s eyes widen as he looks at Simon. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Andrew. I know you like (Y/n), but she’s a Roman.”

“She’s been raised in a Jewish household and follows the same Teacher.”

Simon huffs. “That doesn’t matter. Roman is as Roman does.”

Andrew’s eyes narrow. “What’s your issue, man? I’ve known (Y/n) for years. She’s genuine, kind and selfless.” He blows a strand of hair out of his face and sighs. “...And beautiful.” he adds softly, his gaze turning back to watch you, eyes turning gentle.

The older son of Jonah rolls his eyes. “Trust me, we’d all lose in this situation. Not only would you be married to a Roman, you’d also have Creepy John as your brother-in-law.”

“Don’t call him that! And you're not the one to decide whom I marry!”

“As your older brother, I sort of can.”

“Says who?”

“Says me!” 

The two bickering brothers have drawn the attention of many, including you, towards them. Big James chuckles and bumps John’s shoulder, bringing his voice to a whisper: “And then Jesus calls us the Sons of Thunder, ha! Wonder what that makes these two.” This earns him a chuckle from his younger brother.

Simon and Andrew are snapping back and forth, talking over each other, brows furrowed and not listening to one another. 

As an agent of peace, Philip steps forward first. “You two, cut it out. Everyone around camp can hear you fight, and you guys know Jesus is already asleep because He was so tired of teaching all day! Don’t wake Him up because of your nonsense.”

Guilt spreads over the faces of both former fishermen. 

“Sorry.” Andrew mutters, followed by a quieter parrot of said response from Simon.

However, a deep pit sets in their guts when they see Jesus appear in the opening of His tent, already awoken by their bickering. Shame dusts Andrew’s face pink as Simon averts his gaze.

Jesus smiles as He approaches the students, in spite of the bags under His eyes. “Shalom shalom,” He states, “Is everything alright?”

“We didn’t mean to wake you, Rabbi, we were just arguing about something stup–”

“—It isn’t about something stupid.” Jesus cuts off Andrew, then turns to the older son of Jonah. “Simon. You should know better by now.”

Simon’s brow furrows in question. “What do You mean by that, Rabbi?”

“Concerning (Y/n). You should try and put aside your prejudice against her ancestry and focus on the individual she is instead, but let’s discuss this later. Andrew, first I would like a word with you.”

“With me?” Andrew puts a hand on his chest, as if a second Andrew has suddenly popped into existence somewhere nearby. Jesus chuckles with a knowing glimmer in His eyes. 

“Yes. Come, let’s walk.”

The two men leave behind the others as they leave camp under a blanket of stars, their path somewhat illuminated by the moon. Andrew can’t help but cast a quick glance your way as you still sit talking to Mary by the fire on the other side of the perimeter. 

Jesus and Andrew walk in brief silence as the Messiah folds His hands on His back. The fisherman waits for Him to speak first. When they are far enough to not be overheard, Jesus breaks the quietness of night. 

“I must implore you to hurry.”

Confusion creases Andrew’s brow together. “I… What do You mean?”

Jesus’ smile turns into something sadder, something bittersweet as He glances towards Andrew. The two halt in their step. Despite the darkness of night, Andrew can still properly see Jesus. 

“You want to ask John for (Y/n)’s hand. You need to do so soon.”

Andrew knows better than to deny his love for you, especially in front of the Son of God. Still, another issue crosses his mind. “But John is in prison, how would I ever be able to–” 

Jesus puts His hand onto Andrew’s shoulder and gently squeezes. 

“An opportunity will come to you soon.”

Andrew lets out a small scoff. “Soon…”

Jesus smiles at that. “You’ll know when. When the time comes, you will travel to see John, and you will ask him for her hand in marriage. I know you are anxious, but I also know you are courageous enough to go into the lion’s den to do what you’ve been wanting to do for a very long time now.”

Andrew’s heart rears at that. Jesus squeezes once more and steps away. 

“Now, I am going to try and catch more sleep now. Don’t you and your brother fight again until the morning, okay?” Jesus playfully muses before turning back to camp. “Shalom shalom.”

“Shalom shalom.” Andrew mutters back, his mind running rampant with what Jesus could have meant with that he’d soon be travelling to see John the Baptist in the lion’s den no less, and he watches how the Messiah withdraws to camp. 

If he squints, Andrew can see your form still sitting by the fire, his heart skipping a beat as a fond smile spreads over his lips.

Going into the lion’s den to ask for your hand in marriage. That, paired with the warning of Jesus to hurry up… 

Andrew takes a sharp breath and straightens his back, a sudden wave of determination rushing through him. In spite of the danger that will come with that journey ahead of him, it will be worth it. 

You will be worth it, and he can’t wait.

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write about the Merc's with a gn! reader who loves baking?

Btw, I love your writing style! It all feels so accurate and it's helping to feed this new fixation of mine <3 <3

I see we have some food lovers in the askbox, chat. *crackles knuckles* you ask, and daddy delivers.

Mercs with somebody who gives them food

Scout:

- Depends on your current location. The gravel wars isn’t short of moving from place to place. If it’s somewhere like japan he’ll go full weeb mode and eat nothing but fish related dishes. You know speed racer? In the fucked up TF2 universe there’s a speed racer themed restaurant. Take him there. (On second thought maybe don’t go eating with him in Japan he might eat the Hiroshima rocks.)

- He swears he’s on a diet but it’s inconsistent as fuck. This is the same guy who canonically eats radiation we’re talking about here. You hand him some warm bread you baked and he’s ecstatic. You catch him sprinkling something on his slice. It’s grounded up like pepper. He’s like “This? This shit is fuckin’ perfect. The person who owns my gym back in boston recommended it for energy. Tastes great.” You read the label and you realize it’s grounded up uranium.

- If you make him homemade fried chicken he’ll nearly choke up. Seriously. nobody’s ever done that for him before. Giving him food in general is also his love language but chicken? He thinks you want to marry him forever and ever now.

—————————————————————

Soldier:

- You don’t really know what soldier likes.. He doesn’t make anything very evident and tries his hardest to make his one defining trait being that he’s a veteran. But you know that’s not true. You decide to make him some sandwiches and he’s confused. “Huh.. Well that’s some weird tasting MREs. Not complaining. It’s actually really good. Shame that civilians can’t get the same luxury right now.” He says. You have no idea how to explain that WW2 is virtually nonexistent anymore.

- Finally you settle with something. Honey with warm bread. Instead of eating slices like a normal person he just swallows the entire loaf like a snake. You are worried for this man’s intestines. He seems to be fine however.

- Gives you either a romantic or platonic kiss on the head. Your pick. His breath smells sugary and sweet and you nuzzle your head against his collarbone in response. This is his way of showing he appreciated the food.

———————————————————————

Demoman:

- I sure hope you’re capable of producing stew because that’s all he eats when he isn’t unhealthily suppressing his own hunger with scrumpy.

- You get him to eat a variety of food somehow. Although he’s picky, he isn’t impossible either. Due to growing up in an orphanage he was no stranger to having to cook for himself at times when the caretakers just really didn’t care. You exchange recipes. For some reason he has an entire Scottish cookbook under his bed. As well as a book on “Leonerdo Da Fuq’s Basic Guide To blowing Sentries Up. And making it look like an accident.”

- He’s very thankful. Demoman’s not much of a foodie. He eats to live rather than lives to eat. But your snacks hit different. They’re made with your love. That’s why they’re so much better than what he typically eats.

—————————————————————-

Engineer:

- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU THATS HIS JOB. HE’S THE OVERBEARING GRANDMOTHER THAT WONT STOP SHOVING FOOD INTO HER KIDS MOUTH!!! NOT YOU!!!

- He eats everything you give him. Even if it doesn’t particularly tickle his fancy. His belly is big and swollen afterwards and you want to squish him so bad. That’s a pillow waiting to be laid on. He then tells you fond memories of thanksgiving and when his mother would cook his family an entire turkey dinner.

- He responds twofold by making you something as well. You wake up one day to find an entire breakfast platter laid on your end table. There’s a little sticky note there and although it doesn’t have a name on it — the dash alongside the expertly drawn symbol of his class is evident enough. Only somebody with expertise in blueprints would draw something like that. Hint hint.

——————————————————————

Heavy:

- Heavy isn’t a dumbass by any means but this is a certified Heavy L situation. He thinks you’re trying to offend him at first because people call him fat on a regular basis. Medic explains from afar that actually it’s a gesture meant to express hospitality, and upon realizing you were just being nice he looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

- Lets you spoon feed him your food. He likes it for some reason. He likes any kind of meat, and protein. He eats that shit everyday. Not just that but dark chocolate and other bitter tasting foods as well. Despite his massive size he doesn’t actually eat large portions at a time.

- He knows how to make mostly deserts. Takes on a sort of mentor role and tries to teach you how to bake cakes and stuff like that. You’ve never seen Heavy in such a domesticated setting. Watching him go about cooking without breaking somebody’s skull in for once was actually kind of surreal.

————————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Cook / get them nothing but sweets. They won’t eat anything else. You begin to wonder if Pyro is even remotely human because of how much unhealthy food they eat. (But then again you’ve seen soldier survive losing both his arms and Medic sowing them back on. It’s probably fine.)

- They are unbelievably excited to see you walk into the room with plates and/or boxes. You’ve unintentionally pavloved them into associating it with your food. They clap and make grabby hands. Wanting to see what sweets you’ve brought them.

- It’s actually quite odd.. You see them retreat into their quarters to eat their food. It’s clear they’ve eaten it because they always take the plates back but you’re never allowed to see them eat directly. They don’t attend dinner with the other mercs or even breakfast.

- DO NOT LET THEM NEAR THE FUCKING OVEN. DO NOT LET THEM COOK. THE ADMINISTRATOR MADE IT AGAINST THE RULES TO LET PYRO NEAR THE STOVE.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- “Bloody hell.. This for me?” His voice hiked up a little. A little shocked that somebody would even consider making or buying him food in the first place, Only his parents ever did that for him. He takes it hesitantly but his expression doesn’t seem negative. Just incredibly dumbfounded. You had got him some donuts from a market in tuefort. You figured it would go well with his coffee.

- Immediately starts eating them. Sniper is both a meats sort of guy and a sweets sort of guy. Looks from side to side to make sure nobody saw him take your offer. That would be a embarrassing. He grabs the entire box and retreats into his camper van like a rat.

- He then slowly opens the door.. “Oh, right. Bugger. This is typically the moment I comfortably invite you in.” He cringes at the thought. Leaving the door open for you, and moving aside to let you in. He begins telling you the basics about how to hunt your food. For some reason it’s all incredibly dangerous aussie animals though. Some of the stuff doesn’t sound edible but he’s apparently eaten. He’s especially passionate about how to properly cook crocodiles.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Pretentiously nitpicks the fact you brought him cupcakes. Citing his knowledge about how too much sugar consumption can kill you… whilst simultaneously eating the cupcakes.

- “Even worse yet —- they ruin your dental health. Hoo, i’d hate to be on the receiving end of a tooth filling by an angry dentist.” He says, shoving more of your sweets into his face. You wonder if he’s even self aware of what he’s doing to be honest. “Although I do envy their sadism! It’s much worse than mine, actually — Das schmeckt gut.” He adds.

- He frowns. You knew Medic had loved cupcakes in particular so you were confused at first. Well it wasn’t that. In fact it was something more stupid. “Well then again the consumption of sugar is important for our bodies, I must add. With the wrong diet we could die from low blood sugar. I wonder if it is possible to extract all the sugar from a human body using a sort of giant homebrewed syringe. It is in theory possible for me to—“ The man is at his chalkboard writing down mathematical equations again.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- When you give him food for the first time he’s unbelievably pouty. Couldn’t you have asked him his tastes first? He hesitantly eats what you give him anyway. As long as it isn’t fried, fast food, candy or anything that wasn’t expensive as fuck.

- Incredibly good table manners. Incredibly good at cooking his native cuisine. For some reason he’s intent on insisting that french food is superior than any other food. When you’re eating with him he straightens your posture, politely puts your napkin in your lap and schools you on the fact you’re not using your salad fork or whatever. There’s way too much pointless shit on his table. Who the fuck created all these weirdly specific rules?

- Eventually he’s so tired from trying to teach you he loses his temper and crosses his arms like a discontent toddler while you eat nonchalantly. “What?” You say. Using the wrong fork again. He’s still staring at you. “What?!” You repeat yourself. “I love you, Spy.” You say. Shoving more food into your mouth. He keeps glaring at you.

[kit-williams]

Black Templars with Bonds

So a quick note is that I kind of headcanon that Black Templars with weak bonds tend to try and break them by getting as far as they can from their human till the bond "snaps". ALSO dates from WHEN Roland is from are not canon for Yandere Space Marine AU.

Unfortunately for Cedric @sleepyfan-blog's boy he's meeting two bonded Black Templars with both intense bonds.

Arnault is originally the Bodice Ripper Author from this story

Brother Roland is originally from Yandere Space Marine AU.

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

They had managed to find some Black Templars willing to come meet their "baby" brother. Neither Roland nor Arnault had heard of Primaris marines as they were from M41 and M40 respectively. However, they were told their battle brother was suffering and until they could get in contact with the "feral" ""warband"" of Black Templars he was completely alone. The Chaplain decided that it was best for his mental wellbeing to have at least some of his brothers meet him... even if they had more intense bonds then most marines.

Roland arrived first at the base. His eyes flick over Cedric in that typical appraising manner, he was out of armor wearing civilian looking clothing with a white shirt with large black cross over the center and black pants. He hummed at the end of his appraisal and passed him a large loaf of sourdough. "Its bread. It's good. It's made fresh by my human." Roland bit back the fact that it's made with love but he didn't want to overwhelm the young battle brother.

Though it didn't take Arnault long to appear and Roland sighed as while Roland kept his hair short Arnault let his white hair grow a little longer. As the incident involving the Black Templars he originally with made him a social pariah with any other Black Templars in the area but he was still a son of Dorn at the end of the day given the sword strapped to his hip but his clothes were a bit more fitted and nicer than what Roland wore. When his eyes met Cedrics he could see that cold calculation and appraisal flick into them as he judged the Primaris. "So you're the young battle brother that was dropped into the world in nothing but his night clothes." Arnault pointed out what he was told.

"Yes sir." Cedric said, causing Roland to scoff as he gave Arnault the side eye.

"He's polite." Arnault says.

"Yes, far more than you probably deserve." Roland said.

Arnault laughed as they switched to the local language and Cedric watched as Roland punched Arnault in the arm before they resumed in Gothic. Roland's arms folded over his chest and Arnault standing there, "You really are wound up tight." Roland points out as he had expected Cedric to start eating the bread as it smelt good.

The nervous look returned to Cedric's eyes and the two older black templars looked at him worried.

"Um, so what's your favorite food?" Arnault tried to break the ice.

"Nutrient paste?" Cedric replied confused as Roland just groaned.

"Have you been allowed out?" He asks.

"No sir. I've been confined on base since attacking a... patient." He hisses.

"Right Unbonded." They both said in unison.

"Well little," Arnault looked up at Cedric with a smirk, "battle brother you've got Brother Roland and myself Brother Arnault in the area to help keep you company. Now lets go enjoy the Brot that Bruder Roland brought." Arnault slips into that familiar Black Templar accent.

When they noticed him walking behind them the two forced Cedric to walk beside them as they were unwilling to talk behind themselves to a proper brother.

[friend-crow]

It is heirloom tomato season, so I will now be explaining what is, in my mind, the optimal BLT.

The ideal BLT is all about showcasing the tomato. You cannot make one with some sad, flavorless, supermarket bullshit. You need a big juicy heirloom, sliced bottom to top in slices around 1 CM thick. Slice it with a sharp serrated knife for a nice clean cross section. If you can't grow your own tomatoes, try getting some at a farmers' market or fruit stand.

The bacon is not the main event, it is an accent. You don't need to go buck wild on it. It should be at least a little crispy. Do not try to use that limp English shit.

Did you know that homegrown lettuce has flavor? That's the ideal, but again, the lettuce is really just here to showcase the tomato, so if you have to use some flavorless iceburg, that's not optimal, but also not really a problem. Give it a rinse and do make the effort to dry it. The tomato should be juicy, so you don't need or want to add more water to the situation.

Mayonnaise is the classic BLT condiment. Personally I find it a bit suspicious in some situations (not a fan of most mayonnaise based salads) but there is a special alchemy to the combination of mayonnaise, tomato and bacon. I know what you're thinking. "Crow, the bacon is already fatty and salty, and the tomato is moist, what do you need mayonnaise for?" And maybe you don't need it, but this is about my ideal BLT, so I'm going to insist on a thin layer on the slice of bread that will then be in direct contact with the bacon. The subtle creamy texture and touch of tangy acid it brings to the whole situation is, in my opinion, a must.

The bread must be at least lightly toasted. The toasty surface provides a structural integrity for a sandwich full of thick, juicy tomato that untoasted bread cannot. The toastiness also adds the dermabrasion mouthfeel that is one of my favorites. I'd suggest a good "crusty" bread, as regular sandwich bread is weak and incorrectly shaped. A more oval shaped loaf will better fit the shape of your heirloom tomatoes.

Assemble in this order: toast, mayonnaise, bacon, tomatoes, lettuce, toast (you can add more mayonnaise or perhaps even a nice mustard to this side if you want, but I kind of feel like that's gilding the lily). Slice diagonally using the aforementioned sharp serrated knife. Eat immediately.