#don't starve The Gorge

[e-one-seven]

Don't Starve Together: Time Flies [Animated Short]

The feels (and also new stuff or things I didn’t recognize. Klei if you make the Forge and the Gorge playable again I scream, I loved these events!)... Also, check out this link for the updates and some sweet deals on Klei’s stuff! https://forums.kleientertainment.com/forums/topic/157355-new-skill-trees-and-staying-afloat-update-next-thursday/

[mirths-lexicon]

"A simple but humble fur trader turned Church Hunter, affectionately called Old Woodie by his peers. Indeed, a simple huntsman's axe was his weapon of choice for beasts, and then eventually his beloved Lucy, hacking away a beasthood in his wife that never really existed. Instead, Woodie himself turned, becoming a dreaded bane of any who would so carelessly wander the Forbidden Woods. What terrible despair must have lurked within his twisted frame."

Seeing as to how I got BIG into Bloodborne last year, and it now occupies a chunk of my personality as big as DST once did, I decided to mess around with DST × Bloodborne crossover AU. After all, DST already has a canon Victorian AU involving fish people and eldritch horrors perched over the city, and a general theme of ancient precursors who fucked up badly and old dudes being forced to moderate a nightmare dimension.

I decided that, since Bloodborne's first focus is on horrific werebeasts, to take a spin at the logical horror conclusion of our dear old Canadian.

[origami-trust]

Stay, stay ; ;

[gengarson]

is it really gorge if half of you aren't yelling at each other and the other half aren't just collecting logs

[maskeddiany]

they should have added eggs to the Gorge and wheat to DST

in this TED talk i will-

[mercymaker]

reblogging this again because technically this is the aftermath of that little scene i put together for these bloody pics

me having a normal one today

[sayuri-of-the-valley]

On how Crowley and Aziraphale felt during the kiss (but mainly Crowley here):

Ok so first, the main idea for this huge meta is that a LOT of us noticed how the music from the kiss scene is similar to the nebula one, right?

Second, a lot of us also correctly noticed the parallels between the kiss and how it was to taste food for the first time for Aziraphale: bc of his reactions, the hand on lips, the similar way MS acted both scenes, the little inhale etc. So how was it for Crowley?

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss is practically a puzzle to solve on its own, so it's fun to analyse it, but basically, in a few words, Aziraphale kissed Crowley and he discovered he was physically starving for him, longing for him, yearning for him, for his kiss, and he had no idea. Just like with the ox. And now he needs to gorge himself in him but he can't. Great amazing heartbreaking chef's kiss someone give MS an Emmy.

But there's already so much amazing meta out there about Aziraphale x Ox ribs x The Kiss that I want to focus on Crowley here, and on the music.

So back to the music. The song in "Before the Beginning" and the song that plays during The Kiss (I Forgive You + Don't Bother) are so similar. They're not *exactly* the same, but they're totally reminiscent of each other. The viewer is immediately reminded of those chords that played in the opening scene. It's no coincidence that the fandom was talking about this fact only minutes after first watching those final fifteen minutes. This is an obvious intentional choice for storytelling reasons (David Arnold is a genius).

I have no expertise whatsoever when it comes to music, so I asked our friend @otsanda to see if that made sense and not only it does and she explained it, but she also uncovered so much more hidden meaning in all of it (musicians are amazing), so check out her meta about the music that not only serves as evidence to what I'm proposing here but it also has so much more juicy information in it 💖.

Back to the point: WHY thought? Why choose a similar song? Why intentionally COMPOSE a similar song for that moment?

Hear me out. WHAT IF, by reminding the audience of the creation of the nebula, they meant to convey to us that, for Crowley, kissing Aziraphale gave him the same feeling that creating his stars did?

THAT'S what the music is telling us. THAT'S why it makes us remember "Before the Beginning". It may sound cheesy, but Crowley may have literally seen stars when he kissed Aziraphale. He couldn't react accordingly (just like Aziraphale couldn't), bc it was an overwhelming and extremely sad moment (the music is also telling us that) for both of them. They knew it was ending . They were both having a moment of huge revelation that was fated to not come to completion. Crowley was right, it was too late.

It makes sense to show Crowley's feelings through the music, bc he was the one who started the kiss, and also he was wearing sunglasses in that scene, it's different from a character like Aziraphale that has all his million expressions for everyone to see at all times. And they've been doing this ever since s1 with the Queen songs that play in his car or in the background.

So my point is: the same song being used there makes me wonder if kissing Aziraphale finally gave him what he lost. His purpose. What Aziraphale was trying to give back to him by taking him back to heaven. There's no need for Heaven. Just kiss him, Aziraphale, and there he'll find the stars you want to give back to him. There you will one day see that smile on his face you saw Before The Beginning. Neil Gaiman and David Arnold I am in your walls 😭

This is what may lead us to see this happiness in Crowley again (not the action of kissing itself, of course, but what it represents to their relationship, them being together, them being an Us).

As @otsanda said: from the music we can interpret that that moment was a Revelation for them. Almost a religious experience. Crowley found his purpose again. What he'd been missing the whole season (or even his whole life since the Fall, but we've seen him especially depressed this season).

I'm not even getting into the poetry of how one can interpret the parallel to the angel's reaction to the kiss as carnal, and the demon's as religious; that would be another whole essay but let's just agree that it's incredibly beautiful. (Let me be clear that I mean here Aziraphale's reaction is carnal specifically for Crowley, and Crowley's is religious specifically for Aziraphale, not religious as in "worshipping god")

"Do you ever wonder what's the point?" Crowley asked in s2e1. The point, for him, is Aziraphale (if you've seen The Good Place you know what I mean). I hope he figured this out with that kiss, even as heartbreaking as it was. Even if it was a (temporary) separation kiss. (I hope Aziraphale figures this out with time too, that he's more than enough to make Crowley happy, that Crowley doesn't need Heaven, or stars, that Crowley needs him.)

Maybe that's why Crowley didn't leave and kept waiting outside until the very last moment.

Aziraphale and Crowley both bit the apple at the end of s2. There's no turning back from that Knowledge now.

Edit: I just have to add here this brilliant colour analysis of the nebula scene by @halemerry. And it's pointed out that during the nebula formation there's a moment when it looks like two people embracing. And the fact that a similar song is used in the actual Kiss scene I just... I have no words

[secret-smut-sideblog]

(thinking about the first time with gale in the astral plane vs mortal plane)

It is a beautifully choreographed dance, and Gale has carefully placed all of the steps. Not to control Tav, but in essence, it is all his leading. A slow winding thing that he unfolds. A book that he has carefully bound and caressed along its spine, pages edged in gold. A perfect declaration of love.

He is composed. He is the conductor. The painter.

But sex on the mortal plane.

He has gone without it so long, and oh Gods, it's messy and desperate and URGENT. He can barely breathe as pleasure boils inside him. The touch too much. Too fast. Overwhelming his senses. Gasping and babbling affirmations to his lover. Don'tstop pleaseplease youresogood. Slow down. Stop, stop. Don't move. Please. More.

A thing building and writhing and so hungry. He suddenly feels he has been so terribly hungry for so long. You cannot starve without touch, but he is so swollen with need it verges on nausea. He must break, you understand. Gorging on pleasure is not a polite thing. It is not a patient thing. And he has been patient. He's been so good. Please.

Gale seeks sex in the Astral Plane to bind spiritually, but mortal sex binds viscerally. There is no room for pleading or rawness under pristine turquoise skies. He is not allowed to cry, to break, to unfold from his carefully molded self where gods reside. Only in the quiet of two heavy breathing bodies can he find that relief.

[celestialprincesse]

going home to best friend simon after a failed blind date (where the guy ridiculed you for what you were wearing, or made you feel stupid or something) and he makes you feel better by finally kissing you the way he’s wanted to for so many years 🥹

🌃🛋️🐆🎱

You hadn't been on a date in far too long. Two months, actually, nearly three. In all honestly, you'd grown sick of spending countless hours scrolling through dating apps, only to be rewarded with unwarranted dick pics and texts at stupid hours of the morning asking 'u up?'. Having had enough of small talk, and being treated like a sentient blow up doll, when your friend had offered to set up a blind date after your whining over a cheap bottle of red, you'd eagerly agreed. Surely, you'd thought, she'd vet the potential date, and you trusted her taste - which was your first mistake.

The second would be actually expressing yourself when going to meet a man you've never been introduced to before. The way he stares down at your shoes with disdain as you walk into the restaurant, or scowls when you order a cocktail is agonisingly obvious, and has you on edge the whole night. Unable to help the way you sigh in relief as you split the bill and get ready to leave, you vow to never do this to yourself again - and then proceed to cry in the cab all the way home.

Simon, conveniently, is standing in the kitchen when you get home, kicking off your favourite heels with a huff, and proceeding to further blubber when they smack against the cabinet and the heel comes loose.

"Bad date?" Your roommate questions, shaking you from the spiral of self pity you're rapidly descending.

"Why do I do this to myself," You huff, perhaps a little dramatically as you throw your purse on the counter, before sitting up on the marble surface to better face Simon - and ease your aching feet. "Like - genuinely - why do I do this to myself? Men are assholes."

Simon only provides you with an bemused hum as he rifles through the kitchen cabinets and fridge. "Grilled cheese?"

"Mhm. M' starving." You scoff, reminded suddenly of the incredulity you'd felt having paid for half of the bill - when you'd only had a salad (ordered for you no less), whilst your 'date' had gorged himself on a rump steak and fries right before your face. Asshole.

Watching Simon's back, straining against his t-shirt as he dutifully prepares you something to eat that doesn't comprise of soggy lettuce and split sauce, you can't help but to sigh, lost in thoughts of why all men aren't like him, and how if he wasn't your roommate, and if you weren't drunk and extremely fragile emotionally, you'd absolutely jump his bones given half the chance.

So distracted, in fact, that you fail to notice the plate of sizzling melty, cheesy goodness placed beside you on the counter, and the crooked smile Simon offers as he stands between your legs, resting his hands either side of you.

"They don't deserve you." He offers, perhaps - no, definitely - out of pity, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone in one of the softest gestures you've felt in a long time. "Nobody deserves you."

"You do." You can't help the words that spill from your lips, worse still, your eyes darting to his own mouth, breath catching when his tongue darts out to wet them on a subconscious instinct, taunting you.

Stupid, stupid, stupid - is probably what your brain would scream at you when your lips crashed against Simon's - if you gave a shit. Which you don't.

And you're so glad you don't, because the way he kisses you back is practically sinful, all encompassing as he nips at your bottom lip and pulls you closer by the hips with such startling ease that you have to pull back. But of course, by some cruel twist of fate, or maybe just some terribly bad luck, when you go back to kiss him a second time, he stops you, a frown pulling at his dirty blond brows.

"Not now." He whispers, voice hoarse and eyes burning right through your very skull. "Not when you're feeling like this. Not because I don't want to - because, fuck, I do - but not now. I want you when you're ready - and not drunk, preferably. Eat your grilled cheese and we'll get you to bed."

🌃🛋️🐆🎱

[jophiel-extras]

summary :: hot and bothered wandering thanks to AM

warning :: nsfw, aphrodisiac use, flirting asf, fem reader, reader and Ellen got it on

note :: hello AM lovers 👋 reqs open

Mental and physical torture didn’t compare to the special kind of abuse AM had been putting you through for the past week.

He hadn’t cut up your feet and made you walk for miles, nor had he starved you with mirages of glorious food. No, not you. His favourite.

AM had kept a special genre of torture just for you.

He’d silently offered you a bar of chocolate. The first piece of food you'd seen in months. You should've know that it would come at a price, however you'd never been starved for so long and you never could've expected the chocolate had been drizzled with synthetic aphrodisiacs.

For days you had needed and ached.

Even more, AM had separate you from the rest. If only Ellen was with you, she’d help. Or Ted, Gorrister. Fuck, you’d even settle for Benny.

You’d kept up a limping pace, attempting to walk off your unbelievable horniness, but the exercise hardly took your mind away from the throbbing of your core. You were hot, sweaty and flustered. Filled with unsightly thoughts and feelings. No amount of walking (or running) had done away with your incredible lust.

You stumbled to a stop and began slipping your hand south. You just needed a release, one. You puffed, hand turning into a fist before it reached the line of underwear. No, AM would not be getting his sick show from you.

And as though he'd lingered in your mind, AM's booming voice carved through the barren landscape.

"Oh, don't let me stop you. Continue, please." He'd learned to imitate a gentleman awfully well. As much as you hated the need that choked your core you couldn't help but buckle at the knees from his rough voice. "If only I had a body, I'd help you out." Sickeningly sweet.

"If you had a body, I'd destroy it." A frustrated whisper, but AM heard it all the same.

"Is that a threat or a promise, baby?" Smooth, low and close to your left ear.

You slapped your hand over your mouth and continued to walk despite how much you wanted to bend over and take whatever AM wanted to give you. You had your dignity, you'd keep it until you'd walked for an entire year if you had to.

"Don't be like that, sweetheart. All I wanted was for you to have a little pleasure." You couldn't even feel sick by his words, you were unbelievably drowned by desire. You felt like an animal in heat.

It had been far too long since you'd had any release. Ellen was the last person you'd been to bed with, but neither of you had truely finished. Neither of you could.

You hadn't felt half as horny as you did now. Utterly dripping.

AM hummed and the vibration seeped into the ground you stood on. If there was a God other than AM, you wished he would end your suffering.

"Come on, I promise I won't tell the others. I'll even consider letting you gorge in a feats of your favourite foods." His voice loomed close and quiet until it was like his very being was behind you. "Touch yourself."

his words held such command you didn't know if your hand that begun sliding into your underwear was done out of your own will or AM's. You didn't much care. To hell with dignity. You'd drown yourself in embarrassment after this was all over with.

You'd curled up once again, in shame and discomfort. AM had won, simply. As he did time and time again. At least this time, you were able to get a release from his torture. One that the two of you enjoyed.

[mirths-lexicon]

"Webber was the bright young child of a Byrgenwerth scholar, one with a particular interest in phantasms, and the parasites found within the body of Kos.

As a precursor to the Upper Cathedral Orphanage, Webber was heavily experimented on at a young age, under the notion that younger minds had more room for exponential growth. These experiments caused the child to gain an odd second personality, and subsequent habit of talking to themself.

At the end of it all, Webber was able to not only hear the Great Ones and their kin, but to answer back and intercommunicate with clarity. They offered a manner of insights to Byrgenwerth, direct word from the Great Ones themselves, but soon after refused all attempts at interrogation.

Not long after, the child vanished from the college."

Part 2 of my DST × Bloodborne crossover project. Idk how many of these I'll do, but right now I'm having fun and it's keeping me creatively occupied.

In his home universe, Webber has the lowest max sanity of any other character, meaning they are simultaneously the most susceptible to Madness, as well as Enlightenment. What could be more fitting for Webber than to be the missing link between the failed Gardens of Eyes and the successful Celestial Emissary, neither of which is capable of sharing the eldritch knowledge they've learned?

Bonus:

"Conversation A Caryll rune as imagined by Webber, the child who could speak with cosmic kin. Ultimately abandoned when it failed to yield any tangible results.

A translation of the inhuman, sticky whispers heard by the child.

After many experiments, Webber became able to hear and comprehend the voices of the Great Ones and their kin without training. This rune represents the ability to converse back with them unimpeded, as Webber was uniquely able." (Draw less aggro and take less damage from kin-type enemies)

[reverieblondie]

Could I request headcanons for Raphael, and Haarlep with touch starved gn s/o?

Sorry this took forever to get to you! It's been half finished for weeks but I was finally able to wrap it up! I really do love these bullet point headcannons that deal with a specific type of reader they are fun!

Post with other BG3 boys with touch starved s/o HERE

Haarlep

You have always been good at hiding your inner longing. That aching emptiness that craves touch. It was your weakness, something that you could never tell anyone about you…you would suffer solely to save yourself the embarrassment. You're supposed to be strong, mind filled with ways to help people, there is no time to sit wrapped up in your loneliness… you could have gone to a companion for sure. Everyone knows Karlach is always eager to give a hug, but you knew it would only make you crave it more. Just suffer in silence; don't let anyone know. That worked for you until you ventured into the house of hope. They smelt it on you as soon as you walked through the door; Haarlep's fiery eyes couldn't help but glimmer, their mouth turning into a cruel smirk. A little mouse and a touched-starved one at that. As soon as your eyes met theirs, Haarlep knew they had you ensnared, and they couldn't blame you, their body exposed to all, the sheer heat radiating from them, their words silky and sinful. You had to fight the urge to melt, which Haarlep found quite amusing. Maybe that's why they decided for you to play with them rather than just kill you like they had been told. It was desperate, tender, and ultimately satisfying. From that moment on, even if you didn't know it, Haarlep, in their infinite generosity, vowed you would never be touched starved again. If Haarlep couldn't come to you, they would make sure you could feel their touch, transforming into your form and touching all your most sensitive areas, knowing full well of the shivers and excitement they flooded you with. Nearly every night, Haarlep was desperate for another feeding and would gorge themselves on you. Taste every part, listening to every sweet moan. You are so delicious…it started out as a mutual benefit for you both but slowly built to longer and longer that Haarlep would stay in your bed, holding you close. 

Haarlep would say that they enjoy being touched everywhere; you can use your hands, feet, or tongue, and your pleasure is their pleasure. Though you enjoyed the sentiment of Haarlep saying this, you wanted to find where they liked to be touched. You, of course, knew the obvious place, but you wanted to see if there was more… You framed it as a simple message to thank them for all they do for you. You ran your hands over Haarleps shoulders, neck, thighs. Giving teasing kisses to their ears, stomach, and hands. You finally got what you were looking for when you placed an experimental kiss on the base where their wings reached from their back. A quick shiver, then a low hum, almost like a purr. You felt their body heat up as their wings twighted, silently begging for more. Now, when Haarlep and you engage in your nightly cuddles, you pay extra attention to Haarlep wings. You just love to make them feel special in any way you can. 

When Haarlep is feeling needy, it is obvious…If you're up, they're up; if you're reaching up to grab something off a shelve, Haarlep is snaking their arms around you, pressing kisses to your arching back. If you're trying to take a bath, Haarlep is right there dragging the soap all over your curves as their hard cock sits in your ass, whispering their deepest desires to you, bouncing you slowly. If you are lying down for a nap, Haarlep is curled right behind you, their lips caressing your neck as their warm hands stay pressed to your stomach. Though many would probably grow tired of receiving so much non-stop attention, you could never tire of the feeling of Haarlep lips on your skin. 

Haarlep would never say that they worship anyone…But that was before they met you. Haarlep can't help themselves when it comes to your body; they crave you endlessly. The taste of your sweat, the sound of your moans, the feeling of your warm walls squeezing their cock with every pull, they love how you quiver with every push. They could ravish you endlessly, let years go by, and they would never tire of you. But you're mortal, and your soul is delicate, so they will have to be able to allow you to have your breaks, to let your soul drift back down to your body after every devastating orgasm. The good news is you have adjusted quite well to the hours of cock warming. 

Raphael: 

It was like you didn't even try to hide your desperate need for touch. No, you didn't go around giving everyone a hug, but he saw it when he was watching you, that shy trembling when someone touched you, and how you would place your hand where the former was just to linger in the sensation more. How your eyes seemed to always be in a pleading-like state, begging for any kind of affection…comfort. The thought of his hands touching your skin floods his mind. The feeling of having someone so close like that…he can't help but crave it too. Raphael was a master of temptation; his words promised power and fame, but if you were to tell him what you craved the most…would he offer it to you? You couldn't help yourself; it was all so perfectly orchestrated…his bare chest, the fire that scorched behind him as he asked what you wanted for being a good mouse…his favorite client. Raphael knew as soon as he ghosted his hands over your arms that you were ensnared by him, the great hero, in the arms of a devil… how your body trembles for his attention. What he didn't expect from this deal was how his body would start craving you back. What began as a reward for when you did what he wanted slowly turned into a need you two shared for each other, an intimate closeness that is so sweet and foreign to both of you… After a while, it bloomed into something more; Raphael sees it in your eyes and your touch…he can't say it back, but do you feel it in his touch? The desire he shares with you. 

It's no secret that Raphael is gorgeous… The worst part is that he knew it. Though there's something sexy to the cockiness of that. Raphael assumes your favorite part of him is his angelic face, his hands, his voice perhaps? Imagine his surprise when he learns it's his broad shoulders you just love to run your hands over and dig your nails into, all while your lips bite and suck marks to his neck. Raphael has warned you before about marking up skin…flipping you over face down on the bed, his hot tongue running up your spine. It's your turn for him to mark, and you can't help how your toes curl from the anticipation…

Raphael likes to think his neediness is subtle, but it's not. When you went to bed last, it was in your bed, but now you are wrapped in luxurious silk, laying on top of the cambion, his nails slightly digging into your skin to ensure you don't leave or that nothing takes you from him. For the rest of the day, he takes you everywhere, his hand constantly caressing you by either holding your waist or your hand. He spends the day being a perfect gentleman; you're unsure if there are ulterior motives, so you try to keep your head straight despite it. Raphael understands he is a devil after all, and your wit is something he enjoys about you, amongst other things. It's not until he brings you into his arms after the day is through that you realize this is different…Raphael sways with you slowly as a hauntingly beautiful melody of instruments whispers through the house, his rich voice in your ear as he sings soft, poetic verses of love. It's then that you know that this…this is real for him too. 

"Such an eager pup…" his hands roam over your body as you push him down to his back, your strength apparent by the force. Raphael has been toying with you, and finally, you hit your breaking point. Your hands are fanatic as you rip apart his tunic and unlace his trousers. Raphael had spent days making you burn with withdrawal. His hands only ghosted over your skin, his lips only a whisper away before he would pull back. His bringing you here only to strip for him and then tell you to leave had been the final piece to break your neediness he had been so carefully cultivating. Why did he do this to you? Raphael loves your neediness, loves the feeling of you so eager to push his cock through your entrance, how tears of relief flood your eyes as you bounce on top of him, calling him an arrogant ass as you ravish yourself on him. Raphael is rarely left speechless, but watching your lovesick eyes on him as your body clings, sucking him in deeper, only one word can describe how he feels in this moment looking up at you, love.

[brain-rot-central]

Do you think that Astarion is actually decently intelligent or do you think he is real good at hiding his own stupidity?

Ohhh this is an interesting question. I have a whole theory on why Astarion seems like a ditz in game.

Astarion was (technically still is) a magistrate. The man is smart. He went to law school, and likely grew up highly educated. He's not stupid. His vocabulary is quite rich, though you can also attribute that to 200 years ago being the last time he had an earnest conversation with another being. The version of common spoken now in Faerûn is a bit duller. Even Wyll and Gale, also two highly educated men, don't speak the way Astarion does. Wyll even mentions at one point how Astarion's choice of words gives away his age (the whole "agog" bit).

However.

Given how smart Astarion is, him playing the helpless fool works in two ways for him: 1) it guarantees protection from others by way of gaining sympathy; and 2) it allows him to get close to potential targets without raising much suspicion. Mind you, those are both things he did (or at least tries to do) to Tav/Durge if you romance him.

HOWEVER.

My theory toward why he seems a bit off in terms of smarts has to do with him being enthralled by Cazador. Cazador keeps the spawn underfed on purpose as a way to make them more submissive and easily controlled. Their minds are clouded constantly by hunger -- only ever getting enough to keep themselves from going feral. Blood could dance under their noses and they'd never be able to touch it, unless Cazador wills it.

Astarion is essentially starved when we first meet him. But not for long, as he quickly takes off into the night to hunt (probably something he did at first just to see if he could and likely out of pure desperation). Once he realizes he can gorge himself on whatever amount of animal blood he can, he graduates to pushing the boundaries of another rule: the blood of thinking creatures. Yet another thing that was banned by Cazador. Astarion comments on how much sharper his mind is after having fed on the PC.

Anyway, my theory is that once Cazador is dealt with and Astarion is free, he slowly begins to regain all his prior memories as well as his intelligence. Everything is just being suppressed. Once Cazador is gone and he's given regular feedings, the man is a menace. A "too smart for his own good" menace.

[420faggyactivities69]

Okay I can't find it but there was this one post about someone secretly feeding you in your sleep and it's honestly all I've been thinking about for the past couple of days

Just imagine having someone who lives with you, a partner or even just a roommate, showing a funnel in your mouth every night while you sleep and just pumping you full of some fattening substance, maybe they'd put something in it to make you sleep hard so you don't wake up.

Over the course of the night you'd have thousands of calories pumped into you, stretching out your stomach to make sure that next time you can handle even more. Every morning you'd wake up swollen and bloated, confused as to why that is, because you haven't eaten since dinner, right? You'd brush it off and go get a breakfast anyway because it's the most important meal of the day after all, you can't miss it. And you'd go about your day as normal, eating and snacking as you always would.

That's why it'd surprise you when one day you'd find it impossible to button your pants. You'd admit that you have gained weight and try to work it off, watching what you eat, exercise, all of that.... But you wouldn't know that a certain someone is feeding you a week's worth of calories just in one night.

You'd furiously try to loose the weight, but it would just keep piling on. What once was a small pudgy belly has grown into a big soft wobbling gut. Every part of you would be covered in lard and none of your clothes would fit you anymore.

After some time you'd just give up, if you can't loose the weight no matter what you do then what's the point of dieting. So you'd give into your hedonistic urges and eat whatever your belly desires. Except your stomach would be so stretched out by that point that you just can't feel satisfied unless you gorge like a feral starved animal.

Maybe one day you'd find the funnel that was used on you all this time and instead of questioning it, you'd immediately use it yourself.

And maybe the person who was behind this the whole time would end up catching you with the funnel, while you're guzzling down pure slop and playing with your massive jiggling belly

[lewis-winters]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

A quick little thing for my beloved @lewis-winters, I hope this brings you a bit of comfort!

...

Perched on the back of a shitty motel bathtub in his boxer shorts, Arthur counted the knobs of Natalie’s spine down to the waterline.

Her hair was already wet, and now it was his job to lather up his hands and wash it for her. It was a tradition that had started early in their roadtrip; Natalie would run herself a bath and after a while Arthur would drift into the bathroom to sit with her. Then, as the water cooled, he would offer to wash her hair. She never said no.

"Want me to braid it for you tonight?" He offered, starting to work the soap into her scalp.

Immediately, he saw her shoulders loosen as she sighed, some of the tension that seemed permanently locked there releasing. This was Natalie at her most relaxed, her most unguarded. Arthur knew how much of a privilege that was to be allowed to witness.

"That'd be nice," Natalie hummed.

"Crazy that it's long enough to go in a braid now," Arthur said.

When they had started her hair had only just started to grow out. Now it brushed her shoulders and trailed against her back in a long, golden, wave.

"Only a little one," Natalie countered, but she was smiling slightly, eyes closed as Arthur tilted her head back to really work the soap in.

It had been a long few days of doing nothing but driving and sleeping huddled in the Jeep, and Arthur had enjoyed washing the grease from his own hair in the shower before this as well. The last few years had inured them pretty well to getting and staying dirty, but that didn't mean the ritual of getting clean again was any less welcome. Nothing felt better to Arthur than scrubbing himself until it felt like he'd reached a new layer of skin. He knew Natalie got a similar feeling out of it too.

"A pretty braid," he insisted. He worked out any tangles between his fingers. "Alright, lean forward, I'm gonna rinse it off for ya."

She bent herself over her knees, flipping her hair forward over her face. Using his hands as a cup, Arthur sluiced bathwater over her hair until it ran clear, then smoothed a hand through the length of it to make sure all the suds had been washed away. Natalie hummed happily, still curled forward, and Arthur ran his hand through her hair a few more times for good measure.

"There you go, all done."

Humming in thanks this time, Natalie slowly sat up straight, stretching her arms out in front of her until something in her back popped. Then she reached back and squeezed the excess water from her hair, wringing it out like a towel before laying it in one short coil over her shoulder. 

Arthur stood, but didn’t leave. There was something almost hesitant in Natalie’s expression now, and she was keeping her eyes fixed on the taps in front of her, like she was gearing up for something. He waited.

“Get in with me?” Natalie asked softly.

The tension hadn’t quite returned to her, but it was threatening to, and Arthur once again looked at the shift of bone beneath her skin. He had never thought of her as fragile before, but there had always been a kind of delicacy to how she held herself when she was vulnerable. A wariness. It was there every time she held out a hand to let him in. Even after three years he was still nervous about grabbing it too fast and spooking her, or spurning the chance by accident.

That being said, it was late, and the water wasn’t at its most inviting.

“The water’s gotta be gettin’ cold, Natty. You wouldn’t rather be in bed?” Arthur asked. Natalie didn’t look up, just flexed her fingers against her knees. He felt himself fold to her, and swept down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Okay, scoot up. We’ll run the hot tap again.”

After shimmying out of his boxers and tossing them aside, he stepped into the tub and gently lowered himself down behind Natalie. It was a squeeze, but they made it work in a tangle of legs and tossed arms. Natalie slid down so her head could rest on his shoulder, even as it pushed her knees up against the sides of the tub to keep her feet in. The water was cold, he had been right, but the body contact and the slow stream from the hot tap made it bearable. Natalie sighed again, that great big breath of relief. Arthur wrapped an arm around her middle to squeeze her to him.

“This better?” He asked.

“Mhm.”

“You doing good?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to shut up?”

There wasn’t a response, and Arthur laughed, the weight of Natalie against his bare chest making the vibrations of it odd. He felt her laugh too, mostly silent but betrayed by the movement of her ribs under his hand. In the back of his mind there was half a thought that this should be too much, but he ignored it. They had grown comfortable with each other's bodies over time, probably more comfortable than they were with their own. There was very little in the way of shame between them anymore. 

Nothing was too much for Natalie, especially nothing so simple as this.

[bigkingxl0]

You need to ruin your appetite over the holidays. Make sure you stuff yourself to the limit early on in the day. Drink lots of nog to fill your gut after a heavy serving. Lay down to recover and eat that old Halloween candy just because it's there. Fall into a food coma again.

Wake and bake makes you starving again despite your bulging middle. It's normal for this to happen, and normal to want more. You're supposed to enjoy the holidays, aren't you? Ignore the full feeling and overindulge.

Glut and gorge all day right before Thanksgiving, so when you wake up the next morning your overstretched stomach growls angrily. Don't stop eating like that! Everyone loves stuffing themselves silly on Turkey Day so why not continue the fun? You can prepare a feast and eat the leftovers for days on end.

Eat greedily all the way through Christmas and New Years. The clothes you were gifted dig into you--some don't fit at all. Do you think it's all the cookies and pies you've been chowing down? All those holiday cocktails you've been drinking up?

The thought slips your mind on New Years Eve when you get sloppy and stuffed, then again on New Years Day when you do the same. This is the way you should be. It's normal and it's hot. If it feels good it must be good, right?

Shh, no more thinking. You need to be eating.