#i had some steak and an egg with it but that didn't do much

[splatoon-confession-box]

I managed to finish a whole cup of Ghost Pepper Ramen and my mouth feels like it's becoming one with the force

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

A/N: Reader is on their period and feeling under the weather. Daryl goes above and beyond caring for them. "Hey," you murmured, wandering into the kitchen, awake but definitely not fully.

Daryl turned away from the steaming pots on the stove and the scattered ingredients over the counter. "Oh—hey. Shit, I didn't—I hope I wasn't bein' too loud out here. Did I wake ya up?"

You shook your head vaguely, letting your eyes wander over the kitchen chaos to a couple books open on the table. "No. You didn't wake me up... what's—what's going on out here?"

Daryl hastily wiped his hands on a nearby towel which he then slung over his shoulder in a purely domestic move that had you smiling despite your exhaustion. "How're ya feelin'? Any better?"

"Still tired. Just really tired," you mused, wandering toward the books. "Daryl—what is all this stuff?" you asked again.

He shook his hair back out of his face. "Well—uhh—I talked to Denise and she let me borrow these books on nutrition so I looked up, um..." He shuffled the books out of the way. "I looked up what to do to help with the low iron and anemia ya get pretty much every month...like now. And then I went to the pantry and got—well, c'mere—" You were staring at him with an unreadable expression but drifted over toward the stove, following him. "I got dried beans and lentils and I found some seeds for spinach so I planted those in a container but yer gonna have to wait for that a bit... and I found some dried fruits and nuts that should be good too. Ain't as good as iron from meat but the game's still scarce so..." he trailed off and then glanced at you almost hesitantly. "Wish I could just go pick up a steak and some eggs for ya but—"

"You did all this because I get low iron from my stupid uterus every month?"

He nodded and shrugged. He still couldn't read your expression. Maybe you thought he'd gone a bit overboard. "Yeah..." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the steaming pots on the stove. "Dinner'll be done soon."

Your expression cracked and he saw tears in your eyes. "Daryl—" You threw your arms around his neck and arched up onto your toes to hug him, your body flush against his. "That's the nicest fucking thing," you managed through the lump of emotion in your throat.

His arms draped around your lower back and pressed you in tight against him. "Ain't nothin'. 'M sorry ya gotta deal with this shit every month. How things are now just makes everythin' harder..."

You sniffled and pulled back, mopping your tearstained cheeks with your sleeve. "You make them easier," you said, smiling at him fondly.

He ducked his head a little bit and shrugged again. "I'd—I'd do anythin' for ya."

You laughed and more tears broke from your eyes again. You pressed a hand to clasp his face fondly. "I'd do the same for you, you know."

He nodded. "I know. Now, c'mon. Sit down. Dun wear yerself out." He guided you over to a chair and you obeyed, still looking at him with gratitude and some disbelief at this man who called you his and really would do anything for you.

A/N: Guys, my heart! UGHHHHH <3

[nthspecialll]

When it comes to Abigail Marston leaving John in 1907, a lot of people throw mean comments at her, say that she was unfair for doing so and a lot of other things, however I think that people fail to consider the time that this game is set. This is not our modern day woman, this is 1907, and it might sound like I am stating the obvious but by the hatred that she gets it I think it needs to be said again.

1907!

Do you know the rights that women had then? Or the lack of. Women were bound to their husbands, they weren't allowed to own close to anything and were only allowed to vote in about 4 different states, some women that is. Women were seen as a servant to her husband.

It was also hard for women to earn money, the average woman over 16 working in a factory (as the majority was) earned 5-6 or 6-7 dollars a week, a week! Eggs on average costed 29 cents by the doz, a pound of round steak cost 15 cents and half a gallon of milk costed 15 cents as well.

What about rent? New Austin, which Blackwater and the surrounding area is in, is based of Texas which in 1904 had a rent per room pr month of 28 dollars.

So why would Abigail ever go through all of that? Because of John, because of Jack. Abigail stuck around John for eight years, practically begging him to fix himself, to become better because she knew that she was pretty much dependant on him, because she needs his support to be able to live and she wants to give her boy a chance at a better life but she can't with John constantly picking fights and literally putting her and her son's lives at risk.

A lot of people make it seem like she just suddenly took that chocie, but she didn't, it was a choice that most likely took her years not just due to the financial burden but also the social burden that comes with being a single mom in a time where pre-material sex was seen as a death sin. She could very well be killed merely for being seen with Jack and without a husband.

And not just that, but it was probably also a hard choice because despite of everything she loves John, she really does, yes she screams at him for going out with Saide but who wouldn't. "She won't allow him freedom," no she is scared he is going to die, for us it is easy to say "he isn't going to" because he is a main character and we can just redo if we die taking on twenty skinner brothers or whatnot, but it isn't like that for her. I want you to imagine that your partner/friend/parent told you they were going to fight a gang of who knows how many, you are going to be scared no matter how skilled that friend is because you don't want to lose them. John himself admits it is dangerous work by saying "we always find a way to almost get killed, dont we?" Which Sadie agees to.

Abigail took the choice to leave, putting herself in a terrible situation, not for herself, but for her son. She gave up her one true love so that her son could have a chance at life, have a chance to be better than her and John. It was not easy and it is not something we should shame her for, if anything we should praise her for putting her son before herself.

I love John, I really do, but I think it shows just how shitty of a father he really was, and that Abigail leaving was exactly the push he needed to get himself together, it was the wake-up call he needed. He knew how shitty women had it, he would have to realize how terrible he must have been for her to prefer that over him.

Now am I saying Abigail did everything right? No, she did not. Although I understand her fustrations with him doing bounties she has to realize she is not in a place to be picky about jobs. She did ask John to take on a huge debt for the farm and John is right in one thing "it is legal work that I can handle," and while the farm is taking some time to get up and running it is the best form of income that they have access to.

Now to talk about her annoyance with John going after Micah, it is understandable as it could trigger a decline to their former life of crime or just lead to straight up death. It is unnecessary, revenge is unnecessary, meaning that John is risking their entire life for "nothing." He argues back with "I am doing it for Arthur" but again, yes Micah killed Arthur but killing Micah wont change that, killinh Micah will not bring Arthur back nor put him in a better situation, it is revenge, it is not nessesary, it doesn’t do any good.

If John had died she would not only have lost her husband but also the farm, as women could not own property. I am not that knowledgable on debt laws in 1907, but I would imagine that in some way or another the massive debt John got would end up with her or Jack either way, putting her in a terrible situation.

@heavenlymorals made a similar post back in may 11th where they also explore and explain Mary Linton and Abigail in 1899, it is really amazing and also puts some other light on it.

Sources:

Rent, page 369: https://fraser.stlouisfed.org/title/annual-report-commissioner-labor-6306/eighteenth-annual-report-commissioner-labor-608452?start_page=370

Food, page 233: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=umn.31951000014585x&seq=233

Wages, page 15: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nnc1.cu56779232&seq=15

[glacierclear]

Can I... can I ask for some househusband Leon hcs?

alright. okay. we're gonna work with a few assumptions for these headcanons.

this all comes from the hypothetical of leon being fully retired from his line of work. he still has the same backstory, skillset, traumas, everything, it's just...now he's your loyal house husband!

cooking? this all depends on where he's at in life. mid-30s and onward? he's a chef. i don't believe he'd be terribly gourmet about it. you aren't coming home to a roasted duck served with a reduced wine glaze and a perfectly made risotto...but god. he can make some damn fine spaghetti. he'd likely shoot for simple dishes, with perhaps an added flair or two. homemade burgers. lots of steak dinners. he'd prefer anything that can be prepared with minimal mess. recipes that are made with one pot or one pan...a big hit for him. he is not a pretentious eater, and that would reflect in his cooking.

now, if we're talking early to late-20s leon? erm. well. let's just say he's learning. his transition from zombie apocalypse policeman to military meat shield didn't do much for his cooking skills. and a diet of MREs and scrounged up viper parts did even less. if post-re4 leon is your house husband you're gonna be eating a lot of questionable meals. he's not completely oblivious. he won't try and feed you absolute slop, but his abilities don't much exceed kraft mac and scrambled eggs. still! he's a domestic man now. plenty of free time to try out all sorts of new things in the kitchen! be on standby with a fire extinguisher when he decides 3am is a great time to make fried chicken from scratch!

leon's independent food preferences likely revolve around utility. protein. nutrition. careful rations. compact energy a growing boy needs to kill bioweapons. he doesn't strike me as having a particularly strong sweet tooth, but he also won't say no to a bit of dessert! but he's adaptable, of course. one must be in his line of work. your tastes and favored dishes will influence his palate a lot. he'll naturally associate flavors with you and will, over time, come to adopt a lot of your dietary choices.

cleaning? leon will do his best. you can count on him to not accidentally mix mustard gas in your bathroom, but his knack for cleanliness would be...odd. i choose to believe leon has a strict standard for bodily hygiene. his extended exposure to all manner of glop and viscera means he strives to smell nice and stay on top of dirt the best he can when he is able to...on his body. a house is different. he's never had to see it as a home, merely an empty room where he sleeps and eats. so maintaining it as a tidy space might not come naturally, and it's not as if he had a proper upbringing to teach him proper housekeeping techniques (cough, cough, he's an orphan).

man's a fast learner though. expect a lot of trial and error. him accidentally using glass cleaner on the stove. or not understanding the exact purpose of fabric softener. why do we need make our bed if we're just gonna sleep in it and mess it up again? he likely has a lot of bad habits from living on his own, but gentle guidance and persistent advice will go a long way.

of course, leon needs his private time. space for him to isolate and be alone...but, you're at work all day. the loneliness is easily accessible, and now that he has all the time and freedom to be with you...it's grating. his favorite sound is the noise your key makes when it unlocks the front door. he's careful, not incredibly overbearing, but you don't make it more than a few steps into your home before his head is poking around the corner. "how was your day? you look tired. here, let me take your coat off-" leon is a listener. he doesn't talk about himself much, if at all, so he'd prefer to just hear you ramble on about whatever you need to or want to. neck rubs. gentle squeezes on your arm. light kisses on your brow. he doesn't smother. he doesn't drown you in the touch he's so starved of. but you can tell, he misses you a lot.

the real issues will probably stem from the quiet. the absolute lack of danger. take a person out of their traumatic environment and things start crumbling real fast before they can start to heal. he's hyper-aware. paranoid. has all this pent up energy and an instinct to fight. and he has to redirect it all somewhere, right? it'd come out in bizarre ways. diy projects. you come home from work and he built you a fucking chair. you don't even need a chair, but now you have one. lots of yard work. he renovated your patio and set up a birdhouse (also handmade). you didn't really want him to rearrange your living room but he did it anyways.

and it's hard for him to relax. for him to feel truly safe. he'd insist on installing locks on all the doors. bulletproof windows. guns hidden and stashed in corners of the house, just in case. any tech that could impede on his privacy (ie, amazon echos, doorbell cameras, etc) are out of the question. he'd run you through drills and hypothetical scenarios. make sure you know what to do in any situation. he's vigilant, and honestly, you've never felt safer, but it wears him down and you aren't sure if it's truly good for him.

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit Part Seven on AO3

Contents

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

The alcohol is definitely making you sentimental and it's hard not to reflect on how isolated you'd been for… so many years. These old locals aren't your friends, but they're certainly friendly. You hadn't planned on putting down any roots here, but then John happened, and now Soap and maybe even Simon. The old Wild fan who you celebrate with when the muppets win. The night receptionist at the gym. You're not sure when it happened, but at some point you'd allowed yourself to become enmeshed - just a bit - in the tapestry of this town.

CW: alcohol consumption, heavy petting but no sex

The place John chooses is understated and casual, for which you're relieved. You don't mind being wined and dined but you'd dressed comfortably, with only skating in mind, so you're glad he hasn't brought you to some fancy touristy place downtown. He holds doors open for you and walks around like a peacock when his hand settles low on your back. He asks for a booth and at this point, you're not even surprised when he tucks in next to you instead of opposite, his big thigh resting warm and sturdy against your own; his elbow placed firmly on the table in front of you so you have to lean against his tricep to read the one menu he's apparently decided you'll share.

It's… nice.

You ask to see the salad section when he settles on some sloppy pile of meats, caramelized veggies, and eggs. He pulls a face at that but obliges and you decide to believe that's not somehow weight related.

"This one looks good," John comments a little too-blandly, pointing at a trough consisting of ninety percent steak and maybe a handful of arugula.

"Are you anemic? Should I be worried?"

John laughs, his arm shaking slightly against your chest. "It's actually your iron levels I'm worried about."

Ah. That's… maybe a little weird, but cute.

"I'm fine, John. Don't have much of an appetite, to be honest."

John looks a little miffed by this but doesn't comment when you ask the waitress for a simple Caesar. He gets his meat monstrosity and asks for it bloody in a voice that could charm the skin of a snake. He knows what he's doing, too, based on the entirely too innocent smile he gives the waitress as he moves onto his drink order, a strawberry shake. You can't help but laugh a little at him.

"I didn't expect you to have such a sweet tooth considering how skinny you are," you confide, a teasing smirk on your face which is immediately wiped straight off when John gives you a hurt, borderline panicked look.

"You think I'm skinny!?"

"Uh… no, like -. I mean, in shape. Fit. Sorry, no, you're definitely not skinny. That was poorly worded." You're floundering, trying desperately to fix whatever it is you'd fucked up. It had never occurred to you that someone wouldn't want to be called skinny, though it makes sense now that someone who clearly put as much work into maintaining his body would never want to be called scrawny. Christ, you'd fucked up. That's twice now. Oh god, he's never going to want to see you again. "I'm so sorry, I only meant -."

But John's peering back at you suspiciously now and it has your hands wringing. "It's okay, honey," he says after a moment, clears his throat. "I uh… lost a lot of weight over the winter. Suppose I'm a little sensitive about it, is all."

You're still a nervous wreck, doubly afraid now that you've upset him. Fucking hell, man's probably got some health issues he's getting over and you had to go and comment on his fucking body. "I'm so, so sorry, I should've thought -."

"Sweetheart, look at me. You're fine. I'm not mad."

Holy shit, he's not. He's -.

Right. This is John.

"Besides, you're right," he continues brightly, beaming at the waitress when she places the shake in front of him. "I am a little twiggy. Let's see if we can't fix that, eh?"

You're still mortified that you even commented on his body. After all the bullshit you've put up with in your life, you know better than to pull this shit. You hadn't meant it negatively, of course, but you know from first hand experience how little that matters. John looks happy enough now, but you won't soon forget how hurt he'd looked after your comment. You're still mulling over the best way to move on when he offers you a sip off his pink treat, dopey smile in place. You can't say no to that and he somehow manages to look even more pleased when you take a sip from his straw.

"So… weight loss… did you have any health scares?"

"Hm?" He jolts, eyes focused entirely on your lips. "Oh, no. Strong as a bear," he winks - weird. "Just lose my appetite under the Arizona sun. Always spend all summer trying to gain the weight back," he laughs, a little sad. "Good excuse to indulge, though."

"Well, indulge away. I do think you look good, by the way. Bet you'll look even better when you're comfortable and confident."

John smiles and kisses your forehead with slightly sticky lips. "Thanks, bunny. I think you look very good too, by the way."

He says it the same way he'd appraised the menu. "Thank you," you mutter, grateful that the waitress chooses that moment to return so he doesn't notice how much you blush from his attentions. It's still odd to you, someone as absurdly handsome as John Price being this sweet on you.

John eats like someone's coming to steal it off his plate. He remembers himself maybe midway through his burger and offers you a bite, but when you shake your head he shrugs and goes back to scarfing it like a stray dog. It's kind of impressive, honestly. More out of curiosity than any genuine hunger, you slowly and obviously grab a French fry from his plate which prompts him to grin goofily around a mouthful and spin the plate so the fries are closer to you. You'd been worried for a moment there that he may have some kind of feeder kink, but the voracity with which he's shoveling food into his own mouth combined with how he picks a singular cherry tomato off your dish has you thinking food might be more of a love language to him. That's okay. Cute. You can handle that.

John doesn't throw in the towel until his plate is completely cleared and when you see him eyeing your half full bowl you laugh and slide it his way. He laughs too, and says he'll make you something at the bar later to make up for it. You're not sure you'll take him up on that, but you won't lie that the ease with which he guarantees your next meal means a lot to you, considering how often a spoonful of peanut butter counts as dinner for you these days.

The waitress asks if you want dessert and John eyes you hopefully.

"You go right ahead, big guy, but I'm out."

With a sigh, he admits he should probably go relieve Simon and the two of you pack up without any sweets.

You follow him to the bar and he guides your Jeep back past a little awning and behind the building. He opens your door for you once you put it in park and gives you a hand down. "You can park right here anytime you need, honey," he says and you can't deny that the privacy afforded by the two surrounding walls is pretty tempting.

John takes you in through the kitchen where you find the most intimidating man you've ever seen in your life. He's muscled like a bull and taller even than John. A shock of pale blond hair; scarred, furrowed brows over dark, blank eyes; a black surgical mask and a matching baby gap t-shirt pulled taut over biceps bigger than your head. Here is a man that could make even Phil flinch just by yawning a little too hard, surely, and when he greets John, his voice is low like an oncoming bulldozer and just as deadly.

"Where the fuck 'ave you been?"

John doesn't even flinch. "Got lunch."

The blond man turns his gaze upon you for exactly forty-three seconds. Technically, his expression is completely neutral, but you can't help feeling like he's brought a pumpkin gutter to your eye socket, taken your measure by literally weighing whatever he finds in there. (Metric, of course, for accuracy's sake.)

"'Hope you 'ad fun. I fuckin' quit."

"Sure, sure," John rolls his eyes. He nods toward the front of the shop, "How's he doing?"

"Can't speak English."

"You can barely speak English, you filthy manc. How'd he do with customers?"

"Gave out 'is number three times, if that's what you're looking for in a keep."

John shrugs, "If it keeps 'em coming back."

"Gaz would've never."

"No, Gaz would've gotten theirs. He good with the till?"

"'Ardly trusted him with it, did I?"

"Christ, Simon, did you train him on anything?"

"Too busy house breaking 'im."

John snorts. "How'd he do, honest?"

"Hmph," Simon grunts.

"Hmph?" John repeats, valley girl inflection.

"Mm."

John gives you a 'holy shit, you seeing this?' look. "That good?"

"Said what I said. This the bird?" Simon nods at you, but John is hardly deterred.

"Yes. Should I extend him a year round offer, then?"

The other man's turn to ignore John: "Hi, pet. Nice to meet you."

"You're Simon, I gather?" You grit down on your resolve and extend him a hand which he gracefully doesn't crush in his calloused palm. "I believe I have you to thank for a great coffee date?"

"That's right, so if you ever want to trade up, I know plenty of things -."

But whatever he knows, you never will because John chooses that moment to get adorably jealous. "Awrigh', 'nough of tha'." His accent is thick when his hand finds your shoulder and guides you through the swing door into the front area. You pop out behind the bar, where a roguishly handsome man with a short cropped mohawk and upsettingly blue eyes is already grinning at you, probably having heard every word from the kitchen.

Sure enough, you have enough time to hear Simon warn John he was going to regret that before the mohawked man is inching closer. "Hi, bonnie," he greets you in a thick Scottish accent and you don't even have a chance to respond before John is right there, crowding you just enough to put the Scot on his back foot.

"Soap," John greets the other man, and mohawk smiles warmly at his boss, devilish eyes glinting with easy charm and just a touch of mischief.

"Price. Who's the lass?"

"Your test subject tonight. Pretend she's just a regular customer who doesn't know what she wants -." John guides you around the end of the bar to the very last stool as he speaks. "What would you start her off with?"

"Tha's easy, bonnie lass like her. Sit tight, hen." Soap (Soap?) gets to work behind the bar as John ducks back into the kitchen area for a moment. Whatever Soap's making looks simple enough, maybe four ingredients, but he makes it into an art form, coating the glass with whatever sticky syrup he's using for flavor before pouring his mix in and adding garnish. John returns wielding a laptop just in time to see Soap putting back the ingredients he'd used. Soap misses the small, pleasantly surprised look that crosses John's face, but you don't, and you understand when you take a sip; the light, citrusy flavor not at all what you'd expected when you saw him break out the thick syrup. You can't help your hum of satisfaction and Soap beams. "Good, right? Not too heavy?"

"Nope, just right. Thank you."

"Good, means you'll be able to drink all night," he winks. He turns to John, motioning to the register. "Am I…?"

"No, but you know how much that would cost?" John asks as he settles next to you and powers on his laptop.

"Sixteen ninety nine," Soap answers confidently and you nearly spit the drink back out.

But John is unaffected, sliding you the remote as he pulls up some scheduling app. "Good lad," he tells Soap and the man nods once, before getting lost on the other side of the bar, cleaning glasses.

John waits until the audience has left to sneak a sip from your drink. You raise a brow at him and he nods his approval before returning it to you. You settle on some old Quantum Leap reruns and John conveniently makes it clear exactly then that you need only say if you get bored.

You can't help but grin at him. "Unlikely. My buddy made up a hell of a drinking game for this show. Been a while since I've played it so I'll have to check the rules, but I think I can keep myself entertained for as long as this block goes."

"Drinking game for a show?" John asks, apprehensive.

"'Course, boss," Soap calls from the other end, not bothering to hide his eavesdropping. "When they, then you…" To you he adds, "Drink whenever Scott Bakula looks in a mirror?"

"That's what? One to start? We can do better." And just like that, you text a friend you hadn't been allowed to speak to in years.

You don't, so you send him the new one and within moments you're settling in to intentionally get tipsy, something you haven't done since the first time Phil laid a hand on you. There's a part of you that can't help feeling this is a bad idea, but another, much larger part of you is determined to put these fears in the past. So you share the rules with Soap and John nods approvingly when he pours himself a water to drink along with you. It's silly, and you feel a little weird drinking by yourself, but John's left hand stays rooted to your thigh, and Soap is eager to make sure you drink every time you're queued. He keeps your glass full, each drink slightly different. You comment exactly once that you don't want to mix your liquors and after that, Soap keeps you plied with the same honeyed whiskey he'd started you off with. They're all delicious, and John seems to agree if his tiny nods after each sample is any indication.

Eventually, real customers start bellying up and John sneaks back behind the bar with a kiss to your temple. By now you've switched the entertainment to the game seven you've been dreading, and the quiet old man next to you seems invested so you shoot the shit with him for a bit. Soap does well, from what you can tell. At least well enough that John feels comfortable spending much of the night in the kitchen. He pops out occasionally to offer you scraps, and check the score, says he's 'starting to get invested in these muppets.' John gloms on pretty quickly to the fact that melty cheese is your weak point, and you end up eating nearly a full dinner despite your general queasiness. The small crowd that gathers around the bar is mostly older, but they're all friendly, and the atmosphere is quiet enough that personal conversations eventually grow to include the whole group and you can't help the smile that slowly grows to overtake your face. The alcohol is definitely making you sentimental and it's hard not to reflect on how isolated you'd been for… so many years. These old locals aren't your friends, but they're certainly friendly. You hadn't planned on putting down any roots here, but then John happened, and now Soap and maybe even Simon. The old Wild fan who you celebrate with when the muppets win. The night receptionist at the gym. You're not sure when it happened, but at some point you'd allowed yourself to become enmeshed - just a bit - in the tapestry of this town. It's exactly what you said you wouldn't do, but when John subtly shakes a bottle of Advil at you from behind the kitchen saloon door, you can't bring yourself to regret it. You nod and he brings you out two along with a bottle of water. Soap switches you to ciders after that without being prompted. You're wary at first because of the sweetness, but he assures you the cider is light and crisp - that it comes from New York so you know it's good. You laugh, wondering if he knows, and take your first sip of home in years.

***

The good thing about living out of your car is you're never unprepared for anything. Before ascending to John's apartment, you stop by the Jeep to grab toiletries and pajamas. John grumbles about putting you in his clothes but you'd be mortified if you leaked on them so you make up some (not wholly untruthful) excuse about sensory issues and clothes needing to fit just right which you can see John filing away with the same seriousness he'd been using to prepare his schedule earlier. There's a nondescript door just in front of John's Suburban which he holds open for you. You lead the way up the stairs and laugh when you hear him hum appreciatively at the view it leaves him with. It turns to a squeak when he pinches just below the crease where your ass meets your thigh and then it's John's turn to laugh when the hand you reach back to stop him doesn't shove him away, simply keeps him in place. By now you've reached the landing and as John draws level with you, his heavy palm slides out and over your hip, coming to rest just a hair too low on your waistline to be decent. The landing is narrow, barely enough to fit a man as big as John, let alone your wide frame, but John doesn't seem in a hurry to open the door into his place. The only light source in the stairway is a small night light back behind John's calves and the ambient light coming through his curtained door panel. Backlit and bowed forward, John's presence is overwhelming. His scent - pine, petrichor, something personal - is inescapable and you almost wish he'd get the kiss you know is coming done and over with so you can get to finally (finally) sticking your face in his chest and just breathing.

Of course, then he does kiss you and you don't want it to end.

John's movements as he bridges the gap between you are slow and impending when he steps closer, boots heavy as one wedges its way in between your shoes. You're already impossibly close when he reels you that final inch by the grip he still has on your waist, meeting your lips with a measured duck of his head that leaves your own tilted back, neck exposed to the wide breadth of his hand which he places on the side there, cradling your jaw in such a way it keeps your head tilted exactly the way he wants you.

It's slow, sweet. Hot. John's mustache tickles but not unpleasantly - too neat and well groomed to be prickly. His lips are soft, addictive, and when he deepens the kiss, his tongue scorches across your own. He groans contentedly and somehow you know this ridiculous man is pleased with the taste of you: honeyed whiskey and sweet cider, the bits of greasy cheese he himself made for you.

He breaks off but doesn't go far, burrows his nose right under your ear and takes a deep, steadying breath. "You drive me fucking crazy, bunny. 'S this alrigh'? I can kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathe and he's immediately back on you, both hands framing your jaw now. At some point your own have found the unzipped edges of his Carhart and you try pulling him closer. You only succeed in moving yourself, however, because you'd forgotten John is built like a brick shithouse, even if he thinks he's scrawny.

He obliges you anyway, backs you up enough that you gently bump into the wall, and then your skull is cupped in a protective hand as you're pushed more insistently against it. John is a solid, burning wall at your front. Even through the layers of thermals and jackets you can feel the heat of his skin and you're torn between the desire to be naked under him, sweaty, slick, panting; and to simply see if he'd humor you by holding still long enough to be used like a heating pad.

You pant when John moves to your neck, nipping at the soft skin there until he draws a breath from you that sounds suspiciously like his name. Like this, you can see where his beanie has ridden up just slightly, exposing a bit of hair above his temple and you feel like some repressed Victorian man catching a glimpse of ankle. You're on him in a moment, sniffing his scalp like a fucking dog and you'd maybe feel a little bad about it if not for the way he groans - if not for the way his overwhelming presence makes you feel a little crazy.

"Want you," John tells the bit of décolletage he's uncovered, 'T' enunciated with teeth framing collar bone. Some harefooted intrusive thought has you wishing he'd bite down, wanting to hear it crunch under his jaw. You can feel him now, hard against your hip. He doesn't do anything with it - doesn't grind it into your flesh or bully your hands down to feel the weight of it - but it's enough to know it's there, has your grip moving under his jacket, spanning his ribs.

"John," you gasp again - pleading maybe. Perhaps a warning.

"I know, honey. I know." He sounds miserable. "Won't touch, I promise. But this is okay, right? I can -. We can -."

"Yes."

You're not sure how or when John gets the door open. There's a clatter and a lighting change you barely register from behind your closed eyes and your lifted onto a counter and that's about the hottest thing anyone's ever been able to do for you so you spread your thighs wide on instinct and John takes his reward by slotting himself in as if he bought the fucking deed. "Won't touch, sweetheart, I promise," he repeats as he shoves your coat off your shoulders and admires his handiwork. "Just want to feel you. I want -. Want to…"

Instead of running his intentions by you verbally, John drops to his knees and buries his face in the crotch of your leggings. You yip in embarrassment and try to scramble further onto the counter to get away from him but his grip on your thighs may as well be made of iron. "John, that's… I'm -."

You're interrupted by the heavy sound of his breathing as he takes a fucking whiff of your cunt.

"John!"

"Christ, bunny, I could eat your right up," John murmurs, lips still pressed against your pussy. You gape at him but the look he gives you from under his heavy brow isn't chastised at all.

He looks rabid.

You gulp and John chuckles, deep and dark. "Not gonna," he assures you yet again, but the hot streak he licks up the seam of your leggings almost has you wishing he would. "Not gonna," he says again, and you realize he's saying it for his own benefit when he stands and places a quick peck on your mons. You're briefly embarrassed by the hair he can probably feel through your thin layers, but you catch him taking another quick sniff which -.

Well, it's odd but at least it completely eliminates every ounce of self-consciousness you've ever felt about your pussy.

John groans, works his teeth against the texture he's found.

"Not gonna?" you tease him, not really at all surprised by how breathless you sound.

John huffs, hot and humid where it gets trapped in the fabric beneath his mouth. "Not tonight," he agrees.

"C'mere." You try to help his weak morals by hauling him up by the shoulder. It's a laughable attempt at best, but John doesn't laugh as he obliges.

"Shouldn't have gotten you drunk," he pouts against your lips.

"Still would've been on my period," you remind him, embarrassed as if the word shouldn't even be spoken at a time like this.

"Always did like my lamb bloody."

"John!" he laughs and you tap him lightly on the pec, which only seems to please him more.

"You won't let me play with my food, bunny?" He's looming over you now, hand resting on the counter behind you. You try to imagine him with blood - your blood - all over his face and find -,

"It's not gross?"

John's smile is wolfish and you're caught in his jaws. "No, sweetheart. One of my favorite treats."

"Oh." That's -.

Why doesn't that gross you out?

"We'll talk about it in the morning, yeah? For now, let's get you comfy and ready for bed."

He gives you one final, lingering kiss. You're not sure when he managed to pry your bag off you, but he retrieves it from the kitchen floor and guides you to his en suite. When he runs the shower, you ask if he plans on joining and the look he gives you is that of an owl spotting a field mouse.

A stupid, drunken voice in your head is starting to believe this man actually wants to eat you.

"Won't touch."

When he leaves, he doesn't close the door so neither do you.

John's body wash doesn't smell like him. It's some citrusy bergamot number, at which you are entirely pissed. Still, the water is hot and the pressure is good so you luxuriate a bit, trying to angle yourself right so that the stream can massage some of your back ache away. You had a blast today, but you'll definitely be happy just to lay down soon. You hope John's not too proper to share a bed with you as you kinda really want to be snuggled. When you exit the shower to find him sitting on his bed, staring at you unabashedly as you towel off, you're pretty sure you have your answer. You give him a little show, giggling when he grunts at the way you bend to reach your bag. Eventually you do have to shut the door on him so you can take care of some more private concerns. He's in flannel trousers and not much else when you finally emerge from the bathroom, still just sitting on the edge of the bed. You stare at him for a moment, a little timid after your show. John is solid: thick muscles cording under a thin layer of fat. You think maybe his skin looks slightly baggy on him, but it's hard to tell through the thick hair that coats him. He lets you look your fill for a moment before motioning you closer with a quick curl of his fingers. You stand between his legs and his big palm skates up over your thigh, hooking his fingers into the band of the men's boxer briefs you wear to bed from where it's visible above your sweats and snapping it lightly.

"Whose are these?"

"Mine?"

"Mm. Coulda given you a pair of mine, if you wanted."

"I can wear my own underwear, thank you," you laugh. "Wait, are you jealous?"

"Yes," John admits easily, fingers pulling at the band as if threatening to take them off.

"Of what? I bought these myself," you laugh again.

"Ah." John has the decency to look sheepish as he gently lays the band back where he found it, double rolled to keep from indenting your skin.

"You're ridiculous, you know?" His jealousy rings a tiny little alarm in the back of your mind but you choose to ignore it until you're sober and can be more reasonable.

"No argument there. Are you ready for bed now or do you want to watch something?" He looks so sweet again, big puppy dog eyes as he looks up at you. This is the man who takes you on dates and kisses your temple in public. It's hard to reconcile him with the starved animal he'd been when he'd had you laid out on his counter, but you find you definitely don't mind the duality.

"Are you up for a movie?"

He nods, "Whatever you want, honey."

"Well, what I want is a stupid kids movie, but that'll probably ruin the mood so, like… you pick."

John just smiles up at you dopily. "That sounds perfect. Anything to help me keep it PG," he winks. It's not a good joke, but he's so proud of it it's hard not to laugh. You decide on Who Framed Roger Rabbit because it's a good goddamn movie and because you don't want to subject him to anything egregiously childish. John laughs at the title and too late you realize your mistake.

"Oh, bunny, you don't think this one will be too scary for you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, fluffing a pillow a little too aggressively in his direction. He pulls it from you easily and uses it to prop himself up against the headboard a bit. The position turns his belly into a perfect pillow of your own and you dive in, kissing the ticklish hairs under your cheek just to watch his abs twitch.

"Brave rabbit. Keep testing me and Judge Doom won't be the scariest thing you see tonight."

"Why do you call me a rabbit, anyway? That a Britishism?"

"Sure."

With John's fingers in your hair and the low buzz of whiskey still in your veins, you only make it to the patty cake bit before you're dozing off.

John notices. "Am I sleeping in here tonight, bunny?" His voice is low, an earthquake at the edge of your hearing.

"God I hope so," you mumble into his belly, mortified to find a bit of drool sticking to his hair. If he notices, he doesn't say anything and you fall back asleep for a while. When the movie ends, his shifting wakes you again. You wouldn't mind except it seems the Advil from earlier has finally worn off and you're starting to get crampy. You shift, restless, but John slots himself against your back, his skin like a furnace on your achy back.

"Shh, I got you sweetheart. Go back to bed." You do, right after pulling at his arm until his broad, warm palm places a good amount of pressure right over your sensitive belly, too content to feel self conscious.

Next>>

[throwaway-yandere]

"I AM HERE" (Yandere Modern CEO! Alhaitham/Reader)

a/n: btw, the logo's made by Esther anon!!! ❤️ Thank you so much!!!! Ily!!!

Unreliable Synopsis: You got recruited as Alhaitham's assistant... But honestly? You'd rather be a damn idol producer.

Mother of Klee, Alice's note: We (Our cutie pie Lumine and I) just wanted you to know that it wasn't our idea to make you Alhaitham's assistant, ✾... That's all! I'll have Barbara pray for you every Sunday <3

Yandere Idol!1k event masterlist

--------

You didn't get the job.

Technically you did get to work for the company, but you still didn't get the job. It's a strange predicament, truly. It would be comparable to learning how to prepare fried eggs in a culinary class and then being informed that you must serve medium-rare steak with sauce for the test.

Yes. You didn't become an idol's producer.

But anyone can imagine the kind of stress you're under when you found out you were hired as the CEO's assistant.

-----

"Ohohoho, a lost guest! It's always nice to see a new face around here! Can I get you something to drink? I promise you can trust me!" A man approached you with two bottles of iced coffee.

You raised an eyebrow, clumsily scratching your neck. 

The taller blonde man beside him sighed exasperatedly. "I don't think anyone in their right mind would accept drinks coming from..."

An idol wearing a weird bonnet? Yeah.

"Geez, trainee, what's with that look? I don't spike drinks. Is that sooo hard to believe?"

"You're Kaveh and you're Venti of 5wirl, aren't you?" It's clear to you who they were after that brief exchange.

"Yep yep!!!" He does a tiny little finger-gun gesture. "The one and only– wait a minute, that's Itto's line."

"S-Sorry to bother you, but I'm quite lost right now..." You stuttered. "If you could lead me to CEO Alhaitham's office, that would be fantastic."

"Aaaahh, so YOU'RE (Y/n)! We heard rumors that you're going to work as that idiot Alhaitham's assistant, is that true?"

Your nose scrunched. Sadly, that does seem to be the case based on TeyvatPro's employees' behavior towards you.

Venti gave you a look of pity, "maybe you'd have a good life if he wasn't the CEO and a cum laude Akademiyan graduate. Unfortunately for you, that guy is both."

But you're also an Akademiyan graduate...

"That bastard's an absolute numbers guy for a linguistics major, if I were you, I'd purposefully bomb that interview," Kaveh said.

Venti shrugged. "Do you even have to try? I'd crumble if I'm stuck with him in a room for more than an hour. He probably got that attitude from his seniors."

But based on the magazine you've read, you were a senior when Alhaitham was a freshman...

"Yeah, yeah, we get it. Enough slander, Venti." Kaveh scoffed. "Like, hello? I was Alhaitham's senior you prick!"

You perked up. "Oh? What did you major in?"

Kaveh gazes at you proudly. "Architecture."

You raised a hand and you shared a quick high-five. "Nice! I love to idle around St. Deshret's building back then--"

"Aaaaaaaalright nerds, we're here!!!"

Venti loudly announced, bowing in front of the door.

A closed door, huh? There are unspoken things about doors when it comes to superiors. It's a pseudo-science that when a superior's door is always open, they value employer-employee relationships and are willing to hear out inquiries. Considering how Sir Alhaitham's closed...

Well... You shouldn't make a mountain out of a molehill.

A pink-haired lady opened the door.

"There you are, little one. Come, wait inside."

---

"We didn't expect someone like you to apply here. Your GPA is astoundingly high– what exactly made you want to apply here?"

The money and the location, but mostly the former. You had a similar salary before your old company faced bankruptcy, but the workplace here has some pretty decent coffee and a nice dental plan. Those standards may be low but at least they weren't nonexistent like your newbie self's preservation skills. 

Miss Miko smiled slyly.

"You know what, don't answer." She said. "The boss should emerge in 3... 2... 1..." 

You heard the door open, but you can't see who it was yet since a bookshelf was blocking your view. 

"Well then, I'll be taking my leave~." The ex-idol giggled. "Farewell, little one."

Of course, it was none other than the CEO himself. Alhaitham walked to his desk, ignoring Miss Miko as he sat down, which amplified your nervousness. He's known as a genius businessman for a good reason. With a demeanor imbued with confidence and wit, his face glows in a rather youthful light. 

"I'm certain you've deduced why I called you here."

You're wary of how his cologne smelled like money. He smells like he's trying to prove something to you. 

"Y-Yes, sir, but I don't think I'd be fit to be your assistant–"

"That's right. You're still incompetent." He deadpanned, "I'm only hiring you because you have neat handwriting, and based on Lumine's analysis, you're something of a realist. My criteria are usually stricter than that."

You know little regarding the full business Alhaitham conducts, but if his standards helped him stay as the CEO instead of Madam Alice, it must be a challenging one.

"But...?" You droned.

"But?"

"W-Why me, then?"

Alhaitham scoffed, "there's no use explaining more than half of my reasonings to you. Let's just say I enjoy how you're something of an odd one out. Uniqueness as an asset is something I value, especially in this industry."

"If I'm not worthy, then may I propose that I'll only be a temporary assistant until you find a suitable idol for me? O-only if you'd allow it, of course."

He raised an eyebrow, not expecting those words from you.

"You're seriously determined to be an idol's producer?"

"I am."

"Even when being MY assistant provides better benefits?"

"Yes, sir."

"How stupidly honest. No, scratch that off the record: you're stupid AND honest." 

You laughed uncomfortably. You're not sure why you're so direct with the CEO. Being straightforward with your potential employer is quite a welcome change from your usual practice of masking your true thoughts with formalities. You usually keep your opinions to yourself, but his mere presence implores you to speak frankly.

"I know that look." He said. "You notice it too, right? We communicate rather naturally for an employer-employee relationship."

"Yes, sir. It's a bit strange."

"Hmm. If you look deep within your past, you wouldn't think it's strange at all."

What does he mean by that? 

Alhaitham reached his hand out. He smirked as you accepted his handshake.

His strong grip feels oddly familiar... You would think that you've known him from somewhere but you are still an Akademiya graduate. You need more evidence to support that gut feeling of yours.

"I like you. Let's get along for the next 5 years."

"Until you find a suitable idol for me." You answered without malice.

His face clenched slightly.

"Sure. Until you no longer need this company."

At that time, you should've noted that there's a difference between those two sentences.

-----

"I AM HERE." Your phone spoke in an AI voice.

It's been a long time since you had your first encounter with Kaveh & Venti and that interview with Alhaitham. Nowadays, you work hard to please the latter. 

You opened your phone. TeyvatPro's app logo is a heart-shaped leaf, but it's anything but natural and comforting. It's corporate and cold. The AKASHA - Device Policy app served as a reminder that you've long abandoned your old job and entered a new business environment.

You miss your old boss. You miss your old colleagues.  

You looked around, unfazed. It's just one of many features the AKASHA app has; it allows Alhaitham to make your phone speak whenever he's searching for you. Since you're usually around wherever he is, this tracker sufficed.

The door opened. You committed the painful error of fulfilling his demands at an ungodly hour of the night, and now Alhaitham has sent you more tasks.

Alhaitham pocketed his phone after seeing you. He just used it to make your phone ring. The AKASHA app doesn't allow you to silence his calls. It'll only stop saying "I AM HERE" once your boss turns it off.

"Mx. (Y/n)."

"Here are the files, sir." 

Miffed at the exasperation in your boss's tone, you cast your eyes downwards as you passed his folder. However, you have to face him head on or he'll begin his streak of "professional" insults. 

You won't let him run his mouth just yet. "Would that be all?"

Alhaitham didn't look like he was in his best mood. As he looked through the folder, skimming through each page with hawk-like eyes, you noticed two strange papers on his desk.

Is that... your file?

"S-Sir, permission to speak?"

"Granted."

"Why is my resume on your desk?" You showed your best poker face because you knew that your next words aren't pleasant. 

"Am I fired?"

Alhaitham spoke immediately, not looking up to face you. "You're uncharacteristically confrontational. Is it because it's 2 in the morning?"

He's wrong about the hour– you're always begrudgingly bending your schedule for your bosses– but he's right about your "lack of spine." However, while you don't need another ulcer, you need this job.

Alhaitham continued, now sporting a more pronounced frown.

"How did you arrive at such a conclusion? I took you as my assistant for good reasons and your groundless inference shames this company."

"I... Pardon?" Rude.

"Perhaps it was wrong for me to assume that you possessed a greater aptitude for critical thinking," Alhaitham spoke sardonically. "Take a look at the desk again. The reason why your resume is there should be obvious."

"Is that right?..."

You glanced at his desk again, gaining unspoken permission to touch and move papers on your boss's desk. When you did, the underlying reason became apparent.

Kaveh's file is also on his desk.

With nowhere to turn, you came up with a single hypothesis.

"Does... Does this mean..." 

You beamed a wonderful smile at your boss, unable back your excitement. "Does this mean I'll be reassigned as Kaveh's producer?!"

He smirked.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham was pleased as you started associating his motivations with another cause entirely. 

You grabbed Kaveh's resume, grinning from ear to ear as you fan your face. "Holy. Oh my God. I'll finally be an idol's producer!"

"Kaveh is still a trainee," Alhaitham replied but you didn't hear him.

There's no better fit for you to work with than someone as theatric as Kaveh. Visual kei, rock, disco– it makes virtually no difference what Kaveh's idol genre will be; you don't care as long as it sounds nice! In addition to being the only noisy members of the "ABC" or "Alhaitham Bashing Coalition," you both graduated from Akademiya, thus it's impossible for you two to not be close friends. 

"I've never seen a person this happy for getting a downgrade."

"Then clearly you don't know what it's like for people who abandoned their engineering careers to pursue art."

"No. No, I don't." Alhaitham said, picking up more folders in his drawer. "Send this to Miss Minci down the first floor and you'll be excused for the day."

As you should've been in the first place. Today was a Sunday.

"Of course! Thank you so much, sir Alhaitham!"

He nodded, uninterested.

"Don't forget to close the door on your way out." 

--------

"I'm taking Kaveh off the list."

"No, it's nothing personal– never mind. Yes, it is. Alice, I can't tolerate it. If I could swap out Venti for Scaramouche on 5wirl, I would. They're too enmeshed with my assistant's business. They don't know (Y/n) any longer than I have, yet they act like they've been friends with them since they were young while they can barely recall who I am."

"I've looked at Kaveh's file and honestly, only an idiot would miss that he wants to join TeyvatProductions to spite me. He knows my history with (Y/n). He knows what I did to their old company."

"... Hah. Please. They're not going to resign. I listen to their phone calls– they're not going to leave until they pay off their student loans and other debts."

You swallowed dryly. By now you were supposed to be at home, but Miss Minci instructed you to return Alhaitham's folder with her revisions and now you can't help but listen while hiding behind the bookshelf in morbid curiosity.

Consequently, you are now hearing sounds that were not intended for your ears.

"... (Y/n)? A pet?"

Alhaitham laughed.

A pet...?

Your breath hitched as you recalled a conversation you had with Venti months prior.

---------

"Haven't you ever wondered why the big boss never takes his earphone out?"

Whenever you two are alone together, Venti makes sure you turn off your phone when speaking to him. You never understood the reason why before this talk.

"Nope."

"Seriously?" Venti blew a raspberry. "Bullshit– ain't no way. You've never thought that, hmm, maybe he's listening to our conversations? Not even once?"

Alhaitham looks at you like an ant lining up in a row: with clear indifference and little regard, yet he is confident that you serve a purpose no matter how insignificant it may be. You noticed that the ability to exercise control matters to him. Alhaitham is obsessed with omniscience in the most subtle way. He is slightly despised by his people, therefore he used you as a subpar pawn to observe their behavior.

Deep down, you know he has no need for an assistant; you're only here to boost his pride. Hence, you tossed that hypothesis out the window.

"No, I doubt he has the time for that." You said after contemplating.

"Gosh, you're naive," Venti sighed. "You're book smart but not street smart, aren't you?"

"Hah?"

"C'mon, just admit it, (Y/n)," the idol frowned.

"Isn't it obvious that Alhaitham's keeping you like a pet?"

----------

So that's what you are.

Now that you overheard Alhaitham's phone call, everything pieced itself together and it terrifies you.

"They're not a pet to me. They were once my mentor–" Alhaitham muttered.

You took a step back.

Shit.

He must've heard that.

You didn't mean to snoop around. You're not a bad person. You just wanted to drop a few more folders. You didn't mean to eavesdrop–

"... (Y/n), are you there?"

You didn't breathe as you continued hiding behind the bookshelf.

You can't handle this right now. Confrontations are something you do not trust yourself with. 

You stole a glance at Alhaitham as if seeing him for the first time. There sat a man with a veneer of calm. A man you've never met before.

"... Hmph."

Alhaitham pulled out his phone.

His face, his smirk, his breathing... they're now entirely alien to you.

Your phone rang.

"I AM HERE."

Your blood froze.

Anxiety coursed through your veins, not to recede but to possess. Your reaction is almost immediate yet his impinged movements served to make your heart run faster. You propel your heels to the door in a noisy attempt to leave even while you heard his chair drag against the floor, making his way toward you effortlessly. 

Then his cold hand was clamped above yours, holding you and the doorknob with intense firmness.

You trembled.

His grip feels like deja vu.

"There you are. Why are you still here, my assistant?" 

ANSYTEA: hehe thank you ✾ anon for joining the 1k event <333!!!

[nostalgicamerica]

My Weight-Loss Journey

Over the last three decades, despite a relatively active lifestyle, my weight has steadily increased a pound or two per year. I could see it was becoming a problem every morning in my foggy bathroom mirror.

I finally realized that I had to do something about it last fall when I walked out onto my porch one morning. The neighbor's kitten came over to say good morning and got caught up in my gravitational field and went into orbit around my waistline.

It was then I started looking into different diets. Keto, Caveman, high fat, low carb, lima bean, Atkins. Holy crap! The number of different diet choices were staggering. Greater still were the numbers of dieticians and nutritionists shrieking that this diet is best and only a booger-eater would choose that diet.

After a bit of cogitation, I started researching the Carnivore diet.

It sounded right up my alley: eating nothing but meat, cheese, eggs, and dairy products, and drinking water. And I could eat bacon. Basically, I could eat anything that is animal-based.

The bacon thing sold it for me.

The week before Thanksgiving 2023 I started my new diet plan. You might think that dieting during the holidays wasn't a grand idea, and you'd be right. Eating nothing but meat while watching my family chowing down on traditional holiday meals (turkey and all the fixings for Thanksgiving, and ham and all the fixings for Christmas) and stuffing their faces with cookies and candy and pie and everything else associated with the holidays was as much fun as stuffing a cactus up my rectum.

But I stuck to it.

To this point in my life I had never been disciplined about anything related to food, but somewhere along the way I found the strength to keep anything not indicated by the diet out of my pie hole. (except coffee - I'll be cold, dead, and buried before I stop drinking coffee.)

And the weight came off. 3,4,5 pounds a week. It seemed to literally melting off me. My initial goal was 50 pounds by the end of February and then I'd transition to something more sustainable.

It wasn't easy, at times, especially during the first 2 or 3 weeks. I bought some bite-size sugar free candy to take the edge off for the times when I was jonesing for sugar. And I ate a ton of bacon.

By Christmas Eve I had lost 20.5 pounds. By January's close I had dropped 34 pounds. On January 8th, 2024 I got out of the shower and looked down and saw my penis without a mirror for the first time since about 2003. Also, I could see a six-pack peeking from behind what remains of my belly fat. As of this writing I'm down 39 Pounds. I have a few more days to go, but I don't think I will hit 50. But that's okay.

On March 1st I will start introducing fruits and veggies and whole grains to my diet. I intend to stay away from cane sugar and continue drinking only water.

There have been some negatives along the way. 1. I now abhor the sight of steak. 2. My dog won't stop licking my legs. 3. I have had to go out and buy essentially a new wardrobe.

What I've learned - coupled with portion control - is that 90% of weight loss happens in the kitchen, and the plain fact that bacon makes everything better.

Even though I didn't meet my first goal of 50, I intend to keep going until I've met my ultimate goal of 60. I know I can do it by the end of this year.

I don't know if this will work for everyone; I only relate what I did and what happened. Overall I feel great, I am sleeping great, and my spousal unit says I look better than I have since the beginning of the Clinton administration, although she wants to buy a new car so she may be playing me...

There is enough info about the carnivore diet on the interweb-thingee so I won't add anything else except to say if I can do it, anyone can.

[elliespuns]

Do you think joel was a good cook or couldn't boil water to save his life lol. I feel like I read a lot of fics where joel couldnt' even cook an egg as a single dad, but idk i feel like either he could be really good at cooking, or he was okay at it but he had a couple of dishes that he could cook really well, like chili or something lmao or some southern dish.

As a single father with a teenage daughter and not enough money to live high on the fog, I'd say he had to be able to cook. I don't think he was great, because he surely didn't have enough time to practice in the kitchen with having to work all the time to take care of the bills and other things, and because they would mostly end up ordering takeout or pizza with Sarah. But I believe he would enjoy cooking on weekends, with Sarah helping him out (or making fun of him).

He was probably more likely to make the easiest dishes out there. Like mixing rice or pasta with meat and vegetables and either serving it just like this (either hot or cold) or baking it with cheese on top or something like this. He was probably good at preparing meat too, like roasting chicken or pork and then eating it with plain or roasted potatoes, or just making spaghetti meatballs, the easiest dish out there. I can also see Joel making homemade pizza by throwing cheese on a dough with mushrooms, pepperoni, and ham. Nothing revolutionary or nutritious, but doable and edible.

Imagining Joel probably had a grill in his backyard, he would spend his summer days with Sarah just barbecueing. He would have a good steak once in a while, and Sarah would love grilled corn. They both probably liked grilled vegetable kabobs too. But they would have mostly just burgers anyway since they couldn't get enough of these. And of course, he can't forget about salads; he would also make all sorts of salads if he was lazy: chicken salad, summer salad, lentil salad, you name it.

I don't think he was a bad cook. I think he would do really well if he tried. I think he also had a few tricks up his sleeve. Like making the best baked chicken/beef tacos or lasagna, which I can imagine were Sarah's favorites. Or something like parmesan garlic roasted potatoes, which he would look up on the internet and make for Sarah because he knew how much she loved parmesan and potatoes.

And not to forget about Ellie, I am sure she had a chance to taste some of his specialties too. There wouldn't probably be that many options in the post-apocalyptic world, but I bet my shoes that Ellie would love his parmesan garlic roasted potatoes, making him happy to remember Sarah loved those too. 

"Joel, these are so fucking delicious!" She says, around a mouthful of the savory potatoes, working another spoonful of them into her mouth. "Promise me..." She swallows. "Promise me you'll make these again."

"Sure, kiddo." He chuckles, pleased with himself, wishing he can make himself stop grinning. "Easy, though. Don't choke on them." This warms his heart.

"Fuck it, I would die for these potatoes!"

[nicoforlifetrue]

chapter three

read part two here

read it on ao3 here

and read it on tumblr below!

Getting into the shut-up cafe was shockingly easy; Green could only assume it was because fake-Second came here semi often. The front windows and door were boarded up, but there was a back window with a tarp over it that you could lift and slip inside. The broken down space had Second written all over it— somewhat literally, considering the sketched approximation of a cat that bound over and started purring against Red’s legs upon entry.

The entire space was filled with doodles, and was oddly clean for somewhere that was supposed to be condemned— a pile of real blankets and pillows covered in sketched cat fur sat in one corner, with a note written into the wall beside them claiming they were for “friends + Mia the shop cat”. Sketched vines crawled across the walls and ceiling, blossoming with black and white flowers. A cup sat on what used to probably function as the counter, a photoshop brush, a paint pencil, and various assorted animation tools sticking out of it, with an eraser carelessly thrown just beside it.

The few remaining tables were covered in sketches that didn't move, and as the group explored the space a woodpecker in Second’s distinct style fluttered down from the rafters and settled on one of them, head tilted as it watched everyone before flying over to a sketched jukebox and pecking at it until a soft classical melody floated through the space.

“Well, if he isn’t Second he’s damn good at pretending,” Green couldn't help but joke, and a few of the others chuckled before going back to the uncomfortable silence because they all knew the truth. Only Second could do this. He was the only one whose drawings came to life so easily— others had tried to replicate it, but that just hadn’t worked, the drawings would remain lifeless and still until Second added his own touch and willed it to come to life.

So either this other Second had been right, and they had somehow— what, changed universes? Or a person exactly like Second had somehow gained the power. Somehow both possibilities seemed equally unlikely, but with that poster Red found… well, there’s only so many options, and he's not entirely sure how cloning would work with the hollow heads. In fact, he doesn't even want to think of multiples of them running around the same world. Just Cho and Dark had done enough damage,, but if there were more of them?

He felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Well it’s time to play the waiting game,” he hummed with a clap of his hands, grinning at the worried faces of the group that quite quickly turned into a myriad of grins, Red grabbing a blanket and spreading it across the floor as everyone gathered into what was basically a circle.

No one pointed out they had left a space open for Second.

“Alright, inventory, what we got?” Green asked, already looking over his own. “I’ve got a full tool set, a half stack of note blocks, some string, and for some reason twenty sponges.”

“Half stack of most passive spawn eggs, twenty iron blocks, some wheat, full tool set, and a stack of leads,” Red shared next; Mia the shop cat made home in his lap with a disgruntled mew.

“Two stacks of netherwart, full tool set but no shield, enough potions to create god himself, and a stack of golden carrots,” Blue hummed, chewing on a piece of the aforementioned netherwart.

“The staff of course, two stacks of redstone, just my pickaxe, and a half stack of pistons,” Yellow basically waved off, having said staff out and fiddling with the command block inside with a concentrated expression. “You know I don’t carry much on me when I have it.”

“Just a couple stacks of fireworks and some steak, I didn’t think I’d be hanging out for too long,” Purple admits with a shrug, looking just a bit embarrassed.

“Well that works.. alright, so that's our supplies, we’re in a world where apparently Cho joined rocket really early on, Second doesn’t know us but is willing to help, and we know it’s Second because, well, obviously. And the only hint we have to what happened is a heat haze dome… dumbest theory wins, go!” As he says that he pulls out his phone and starts a timer, for five minutes— Purple, who’s seated next to him, looks extremely lost before Yellow speaks while still fiddling with the staff.

“Obviously Second’s father forgot to clean the heat sink and this is all just a very strange dream as we wait for him to wake up and fix this mess.” It’s spoken in his normal deadpan, the only thing giving away his participation a faint smirk. “That’s why it was a heat haze that did this, it’s quite literally scrambling our brains like an egg.”

“No, obviously this is Cho’s idea of a prank,” Blue cut in, leaning on Yellow with a grin. “Him and Second have been planning this for actual months, made an entire city on the drawing tablet just to mess with us— clearly they wanted something so ridiculous we’d only believe it if they really sold it, you know Cho, he doesn't do that silly thing called moderation.”

“Cho is the terrorist The Chosen One?” Purple whispers in his ear; he nods, watching them pale even further. “And Cho is Second’s brother?” 

“Oh please you two,” Red scoffs, leaning back, arms crossed in faux superiority. “You’re fools if you don't think we haven't managed to simply successfully fall asleep in the nether! This is why it’s so dangerous, it connects you to the hivemind and shows you the impossible!”

“Yeah obviously, Alan makes them sturdy, duh,” Green whispers back, watching Blue gasp in false offense.

“Of course you'd go with the possessed option, don't you see you fool, Sec and Cho are finally getting back at you for the cake incident, the rest of us are in on it too!”

“He didn't use thermal paste on the heat sink, it’s hot glue,” Yellow quipped, grin growing at the conjoined rebuttal. “I’m just saying, he built the PC on his own this time, perhaps we should have stayed in the harddrive a bit longer.”

Green can’t help but smile when he hears Purple giggle under his breath— the waiting game was something from back before Second had freed them, a way to pass the time while waiting for something new to happen. First you take stock of your surroundings, then make a scenario out of those surroundings! It used to be about what the users were doing, or about the last stick to pass through their home…

And now it’s about their current situation— five minutes to come up with the stupidest, most unbelievable, but still somewhat logical, course of events that could lead them here. The last bit had to be tacked on after the color monster bit went on for Eight. Hours.

…They had been very bored before Second came along.

“Nope, Blue just left the potion maker running until the potion turned to steam and now we’re here,” Purple finally added, giggling even more when horrified “NO”s turned onto them. Red wins the first round, after pulling out the idea that the reason everything was extra weird was because the piglin tribe Blue had befriended were attempting to treat them with mushrooms, obviously making things significantly worse.

It goes on like that for hours— new, impossibly dumber situations being pulled for various other things, like why Blue had enough netherwart to not eat in a millisecond, or why the only one without a full tool set was Yellow, before finally they end up just chatting, timer forgotten, musing about this world’s version of people.

“Think Minecraft actually got destroyed this time? Or like, did Cho stop him?” Red hums, gesturing at the ceiling. “Or did you like, stop him on your own, Purp?”

“Eh, probably on my own, we can still use craft stuff here so it’s gotta exist, right?” Green’s being used as a pillow, Purple’s cheek squishing into his back as the stick’s wings flex sleepily. “Speaking of Cho, what happened to his partner in crime, that red hollow?”

“Ugh, Dark,” Blue huffs with a shiver, nods spreading throughout the group in agreement with the noise. “If we’re lucky? Dead. If we’re not? Highly injured but still a threat, and we’re screwed.”

“Well then, consider yourselves properly fucked,” a voice growls from above them, so familiar and horrifying it has Green leaping to his feet with weapons out in less than a second, the others all doing the same as they look up— bright red glowing eyes that match Chosen’s twinkle down at them from the darkness of the rafters, and light catches on a sharp-toothed grin just before he jumps down, form revealed in the soft light of the diner.

“Hello children,” The Dark Lord purrs, “miss me?~”

[jungle-angel]

The One Where They Go To Florida: Part 5 (Frat!Rhett x Reader)

Summary: There are just some things you never wanna do with a grapefruit......or do you??

Warnings: References to smut, obscene acts with a grapefruit etc.

Tagging: @callmemana @floydsmuse @attapullman

Rhett stumbled down the stairs of the beach house, hungover as hell as the bright Florida sunshine spilled through the windows. The first rager of spring break was already over but that didn't mean the hangovers weren't.

He stumbled into the kitchen to find you, Cairo and a few of the girls making your famous hangover breakfasts, the heady aroma of Dunkin Donuts coffee filling the kitchen along with bacon, eggs, sausages, cheese, pancakes and toast.

"Mornin cowboy," you chirped, handing him a fresh coffee.

"Mornin baby," Rhett croaked, kissing your cheek. "Any of them other idiots comin down?"

"Foster was the only one up, he's out fixing Kelso's little mailbox fiasco," Cairo told him, plating a pair of freshly made sunny-side-up eggs.

"Who grilled the steaks?"

"Sammy did," you answered. "Guy's a natural. He said he learned it from watchin his grandpa work the hibachi in his restaurant."

Cairo turned up the volume just a little, mumbling along to Shania Twain's "Man, I feel like a woman" as you cooked away in the kitchen. Pretty soon more of the idiots came stumbling out of their hiding places to come and eat.

"I've gotta close the screen and it's gon' sound like a gunshot," Bo announced.

"C'mon man not so loud," Woody Williamson told him, burying his face in his hands once Bo shut the door.

"I made Bloody Marys ya'll!" Cairo happily announced.

"You kiddin?" Harry Reagan said to him, his full Boston starting to show as he pushed his floppy blonde hair out of his face. "I've got an ungodly hangovuh and the last thing I wanna do is fuckin drink."

"Oh please, Harry," Cairo retorted. "My Nan used to make these all the time when my family would party. So drink up honeys, ya'll are gonna need it."

Everybody dug into their breakfasts, letting it soak up all the alcohol from the night before. Yet poor Oliver Scott seemed to have been the only one who hadn't had any real or exciting escapades to tell from the night before.

"Olivuh I'm shore it's not a big deal," Harry told him with a mouthful of half-chewed toast. "Everybody's first time sucks."

"Yeah man I didn't make it with a girl till I was a sophomore," Woody told him.

"I don't get it though," Oliver mused. "I don't know if it was just me or the booze but I just couldn't do it."

"Maybe she wasn't as much of a babe in the sack as ya'll thought she was," Rhett theorized.

"Maybe she was a prude," Sammy Inoue thought out loud as he buttered his toast with the runny egg yolk.

"I dunno," Oliver sighed. "Maybe I missed something in the sex manual."

"Did you study the chapter on Grapefruiting?" Cairo asked, seating himself next to Foster with a mimosa in his hand.

The table was dead silent, everyone scrunching their eyebrows together as they turned to Cairo. "Pahdon my ignorance, but what in the fuck is grapefruiting?" Harry asked him.

"Oh my gosh you don't know?" Cairo questioned, his jaw dropping with bemusement. "Oooh ok, lemme give ya'll a little sex ed lesson. Everybody pay attention because this will be on the test later, yes? Ok."

Everyone, yourself included listened with intent as Cairo took a grapefruit and a banana from the center of the table and the knife near his plate.

"Ok so what you do," he explained, cutting the ends off the grapefruit. "Is you take the grapefruit, cut off the ends like so.......and then, you fit it around the penis so that it's comfortable. Make sure you're hard, not limp, obviously....."

Everyone was trying with all their willpower not to laugh, hiding their mouths behind their hands or biting their lips as Cairo began fitting the grapefruit around the banana.

"Just as a word of warning though," he continued. "Be really, really careful because there is a chance you could get the juice in the urethra and believe me, it's like peeing fire. So anywho.......once comfortably fitted, your partner can start goin to town on it, like so....."

Jaws hit the floor as soon as Cairo began going to town on it. Sure many of the boys had seen very well done oral sex acts, but nothing compared to seeing it from Cairo himself.

"You also wanna push your partner's head in just a little," Cairo explained once he quickly released the banana from his mouth. "If they make some coughing and gagging noises, it means you're doing something right....."

He kept at it, the other Delta Taus and their girls trying to keep straight faces and failing miserably. Finally, Cairo was done, much to their relief.

"Now remember guys," he informed them. "You never......NEVER......wanna try this with a pineapple."

A few of the guys busted out laughing but Cairo was more than pleased with himself.

"How much ya'll wanna bet that Kelso fucks this up later?" Rhett asked Kayce.

"I'm not bettin anything bro," Kayce chuckled. "I had to spend my last twenty bucks at the corner store getting a keg the other day."

[badscientist]

wip food questionnaire

tagged by @the-golden-comet. this is a real interesting one to me bc dead meat does have an emphasis on food and eating etc. i was a lot inspired by dungeon meshi when writing it, but the whole thing kicks off bc of an odd meal and that underpins the whole thing.

so the rules were to answer the following as your characters. ill write it kind of like they're being interviewed as a group.

what is one comfort meal that'll change your whole mood for the day?

NORMAN: My mother makes the best beef noodle soup. It always brings back fond memories when I make it myself now. BETSY: Yeah? I bet that'd be good! My mom cooked a lot when I was younger. She made the best homemade pizza. SANDERSON: Well, tea is hardly a meal, but I do enjoy tea with sweets. NORMAN: [Nodding.] Oh, tea pairs great with a lot of different meals.

what is an experience (good or bad) that has turned you off or on to a food completely?

BETSY: I don't wanna go into it, but I don't eat meat anymore. I was a pescatarian up 'til a few years ago, and then I worked at a seafood restaurant and, uh- well, I didn't work there long. They had a lot of live fish and lobsters- Got into a big fight with the owner over, ah, ethical concerns. SANDERSON: Sounds familiar.

if you could eliminate one piece of produce, meat, dairy or sweets off the earth what would it be?

BETSY: As strongly as I feel about meat, I don't think it should be eliminated or anything. Now, if you ask me. That 'blue raspberry' flavorin' in candy and stuff is downright unappetizin'. [Most in the room nod in agreement.] MINA: ...I think bacon is overrated. SANDERSON: Oh, certainly.

and dessert is normally saved for last, but if you could what would you order for your entree at a restaurant?

BETSY: Pasta salad and twice-baked potatoes! NORMAN: I really like egg sandwiches. [Laughs.] My guilty pleasure. SANDERSON: Oh, I'd love a big, juicy steak! BETSY: [Looking at Clive and Ankhanum.] For bein' big foodies, you two haven't contributed much to the conversation. CLIVE: ...Fine. We are omnivores, but prefer meat above all else. I second Sanderson on a 'big, juicy steak'. ANKHANUM: [Cackling.] BETSY: [Squinting at them.]

what food spot are you gatekeeping and why?

BETSY: Tish's Diner. CLIVE: Definitely Tish's Diner. ANKHANUM: Mm, all the food at the diner is very good! Miss Latisha only hires the best cooks. BETSY: Aw. Well, thanks, Buddy! Yeah, I've been workin' on and off for Tish since her mom owned the place. Sheesh. We were still teenagers back then.

cooking is a life skill, why haven't you started learning yet!?

[Almost everyone in the room stares at each other. They know how to cook in some capacity.] MINA: ...Food - and preparing it - has always been tricky for me. I try to keep my meals simple. BETSY: Well, hey, that happens. I can show you some tips and tricks, if you want? MINA: Ah- well...that could be nice, sometime.

is there a smell that reminds you of something you never want to remember?

BETSY: ...Yeah, I, uh- I don't like the smell of raw meat.

no pressure tags: @starstruck-sunshine @chubbymonstah @delusionsofspace

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #120

I did so much stuff today!!!!

…Okay, well actually I did only like 3 things today. But these things were very BIG things! I will talk about two of them, and then touch vaguely upon the third!

I will start with this morning! Because J and I went up in the sky in the little airplane today! We went to an airport that had a diner! I got an EPIC BREAKFAST!!! There was steak and eggs and cheddar grits, and I also got a coffee, because I don't get coffee very often, so why not! I took some pictures for you…

This is what J got! It's some kind of breakfast bowl with salsa, avocados, beans, and scrambled eggs! There's also potatoes and bacon under the eggs! I wonder if you'd enjoy something like this. He let me have a few bites; it was really good!

Here is the coffee I got! And, of course I snapped the picture of it while the cream was still swirling around; it's more interesting that way:

Here are some cheddar grits:

Here's the steak and eggs I got; it came with caramelized onions, cornbread and butter, eggs with runny yolks, and a bit of hollandaise sauce! It also came with ketchup for some reason. But I only like it on burgers, so I didn't use it.

I asked for the steak to be as rare as allowed, and I was SUPER THRILLED about the fact that they prepared it in basically the same way I do at home - brown the outside, and leave the inside mostly raw:

It was so good!!! Oh my goodness!

While at the place, I also happened upon a little space with dandelions! I'm not really sure why, but people in my world seem to really hate dandelions. It makes absolutely no sense to me, because in addition to being extremely beneficial to nearby soil for a variety of reasons, every part of the plant is edible and nutritious. One of my favorite things to do, when I can find a safe source of them, is to turn the blooms into a sweet syrup that you can use on pancakes, on ice cream, or in tea! Maybe I'll get to do that this year. For now, I'll just show you the picture I took:

Isn't it pretty? I like them!

I also took a bunch of photos along the way from the airplane window! I'll show you the best ones!

…Hey, Sephiroth? I know you can fly and stuff, and that's pretty cool. But while you're up in the sky, dancing in the clouds, do you make it a point to notice and appreciate all the lovely scenery? If you don't, then maybe you can try it next time; practicing gratitude and appreciation is one of the best ways to exercise your hippocampus until it becomes strong!

On the way home, I saw 9 great big huge birds-of-prey; I think these ones were turkey vultures. I managed to actually catch a picture of one in flight for you! Here, it's not very big in the photo, but check out the back speck in the sky:

Oh!!! Also!!! I finally got around to making the stuffed cabbage casserole today! This recipe was given to me by an awesome person called @freelanceexorcist (thanks be to ye, fren!! 💖)! I ended up modifying it a bit, just to suit the needs of those in my house; Br cannot have gluten, so I used tomato puree in place of tomato soup, and J does not like big cabbage leaves, so I cut it into little slices, and bite-sized bits are easier for M to handle than meatballs, so I kinda just... shredded everything and mixed it all together. But I used mostly the same ingredients, even if the preparation differed just a little! I'll show you what I did…

You start with cabbage!

Here's how it looks on the inside when you cut it in half!! It's pretty cool!

...It's like Brussels sprouts, but WAY bigger!

The recipe calls for whole leaves, but I cut it into shreddy bits, like this:

The cabbage was sauteed in my bacon fat confit garlic:

I poured in a can of tomato puree from there, and I let it simmer on low heat for a couple of hours:

While that was happening, I cut up 2 pounds of kielbasa, and 2 onions:

Once the cabbage was done and set aside, I caramelized the onions in more bacon fat:

I added the onions to the cabbage, and then I put a big can of diced tomatoes, a pound of Bavarian sauerkraut, and the ground meat I cooked the other day into the wok, along with a cup of rice and a can full of some beef bone broth:

I let this sit on very low heat until the rice was done cooking. I used short grain rice; it looks like this:

...In between the long bits of cooking when there was nothing else I could do, I worked on something else that I'm absolutely not going to tell anyone about! It was good!

Once the cabbage and the rice were all done, I combined the two sets of things; this took some doing simply because there was SO MUCH FOOD, oh my goodness!! But this was the result!

So... it's cabbage, caramelized onions, sauerkraut, canned tomatoes, tomato puree, beef bone broth, rice, garlic, kielbasa, ground pork, and ground beef, all cooked up nicely and mixed together in a great big awesome dish!! And it is indeed awesome!! It was said that the leftovers are even better, because the flavors are given a chance to mingle; I can't wait to find out tomorrow!

...I wish you could have been here for all of this. I wish you could be here, generally. My house does occasionally have its challenges, for sure, but still, it is happy, wholesome, and safe. There's lots of fun and interesting stuff to do. My house is a good house. You could find healing and belonging here. You could find growth and change here. And you'd fit right in. You'd fit right in with my social circle, generally; ain't a single one of us fit the definition of "normal".

Sephiroth, c'mon. The darkness doesn't suit you. It never did. And it never will. So step away from people who wanna use and abuse you, and instead step towards the people who wanna help you to feel as though you're enough exactly as you are, without needing to do something useful or amazing first.

I'll be here waiting, so... as impossible as it is, pop by for a visit soon, okay? We'll make you good snacks - all the pasta you could want, or whatever else suits your fancy - whatever you like; if I don't know how to cook it, I can figure it out, easy peasy.

I'm gonna go do other things now, and I'm going to wish you were here as I do them. I love you, and I'll write again tomorrow. Please stay safe.

Your friend, Lumine

[buggybuggs]

Everyone's favourite foods? :> (couldn't choose one, and after choosing multiple, didn't want others to feel excluded hshshshs)

YOU GOT IT

Ashe - She prefers traditional Monstrin foods, which are typically crunchy friedleafy greens paired with different toppings, luckily Okinomiyaki fits that definition well. She loves barbequed meats, like char siu, and a good lick on a lemon every now and then Aivoni - LOVER of seafood, anything on one of those grill setups too. She loves a good lobster roll or a nice seafood paella, but at home she'll happily enjoy a lazily made pasta dish Vae - ANNNYTHING sweet, but especially pastries. A good carrot cake, or a good cheesecake. she loves carnival type food like funnel cakes and cotton candy too. she also loves to eat raw veggies as a snack, go ahead and give her a basket of turnips and watch... Mastiff - BURRITOS. sure its not what she grew up with, but she LOVES a nice wrapped up giant burrito with EVERYTHING she can fit into it. she likes to put lots of rice in it though! otherwise she loves dumplings and pierogi! -after this point, my gf added her input Vess - smoothies of all types, she loves a good mango and anything thats nice and sweet, she doesnt eat much otherwise Merina - junk foods, anything she can eat lazing around that fills her up, cheap stuff like burgers and fries is her specialty. if you want to treat her? give her some good spicy wings... Okapi - [I need to develop her more, so sorry!!] Prongy - So in Nebraska they got these things called runzas! its bread wrapped around a mix of beef and cabbage with plenty of pepper and spices! she likes one with cheese, and pair it with a kool aid burst!! Cammy - cammy LOVES to grill. a good steak, make it rare, give her an interesting meat to cook with. he'll gnaw on a juicy burger as well, they dont care if a rare burger could give them food poisoning, LOL! Kroma - Cheap ramen, she doesnt do the broth, just noodles with the flavoring. She loves a cheap conveyor belt sushi place too... unless youre paying. then you'll hear her talk all about how much she loves Uni and Otoro. Imp - Anything fried and oily, she loves some takoyaki, calamari, and okinomiyaki (like Ashe, that's the only time they get along). You'll also find her begging for your fries. Sam - Make it cheap, make it fast, unless its a good pizza portuguesa, she'll happily wait for that! She'll help cammy along with grilling and make a really nice chimmichuri, but with food, she aint picky at all Trace - Food? nah, she has a monster energy and a meal replacement. she's more focused on her gaming than to care about having a meal. If you're serving her? it better not have any weird textures. or else she'll be sad!

Maltha and Ly's world is lacking a bit with food BUT Maltha likes salty and savory things, she has a weird relationship with meat as her cloned kin are used in the meat industry but.. she uh.. has a taste Ly has never really had real food other than beet-like vegetables that they fed their livestock, but if offered the taste of a nice meaty thing? they might like it!! (too much maybe!? oh no! they're going after people!!!!)

Truck loves pasta... cheap chain restaurant food that offers all sorts of deals. Or a good deviled egg! Unnamed Magnezone likes food too! but scans it. It likes anything that has a lot of heterogeneity, so anything that has many different things on it to make it happy

Bugg will eat anything thats cheap and tasty. want to treat them though? give it some stroganoff, or maybe some fried scallops, or a nice salad with all sorts of olives on it :3

[balthazarslostlibrary]

Whats the worst thing you ever ate, by your standards.

Oh MAN that is SUCH a hard one. Damn. I have truly eaten some spectacularly foul things by most peoples' standards.

A short list is: - Icecream my partner accidentally dropped on the sidewalk (they shouted 'NO, NO!' at me while I did this like i was a dog (winning) - Cheese that went moldy but I cut the mold off

- The unopened egg of a stinkhorn fungus. I didn't know you should remove the spore mass first, it was pretty gross.

- Steaks I was given by a friend because she wasn't going to eat them. They had grey and slightly green bits. I cut them off and ate the rest in stir-fry. Did the same with some mince a few months later.

- MANY vegetables that were either about to go off, or were dry as hell, including potatoes that were like, definitely a bit green.

I think the absolute WORST thing I consumed, however, was when I had a friend who worked as admin for a science department at the local uni. Now, the sciences are overfunded, so they had so much milk at their department that it started going past its best-by date, and so they couldn't have it in the department. So, as things go, I took it.

Now, I firmly stand by the adage that best-by date is NOT the same as expiry date, and I ALWAYS do a sniff AND taste test before consuming any milk that could have gone off. During this time of about a month and a half, I was drinking LITRES of milk every few days, because I didn't want to waste the free milk you see.

Anyway, I was playing board games with some friends and I thought, hey, why don't I get myself some milk! So I get myself some milk and it's past its best-by about two weeks beforehand, but it doesn't smell bad or taste bad, so I decide to just drink the whole litre right there and then so I don't risk leaving it for longer and it going off.

I get to my turn in the board game, have a BIG SWIG (I'm already three quarters of the way through) and have to immediately spit it all out into the bottle because yep, that was chunks! Chunks of rotten milk all up in my mouth! Turns out it HAD gone off, but all the chunks had sunk to the bottom of the bottle.

Anyway, for the next week I didn't stop drinking the milk I got given until my partner figured out who was supplying me and made them stop. Fucking foiled, I had a good thing going! Do you know how much money I saved by drinking that much free milk?! At least a hundred dollars I say! At least a hundred! I could have been set on milk for the whole year, but no, chunky milk was too much apparently.

Bastard.

[austin-in-taiwan]

June 29 - Kaohsiung - Free day - Beach

Today was our free day, which was on Monday instead of Sunday this week. Last night, we went out for a few drinks at nearby bars, so this morning, I didn't get out until around 10:45. Originally, Jacob, Jack, Eli, and I were going to go to a nearby mountain/hiking trail that Yeh Laoshi suggested that has monkeys. However, we missed the bus, so we decided to go when it's cooler tomorrow morning. Instead, we stopped for some scallion pancakes (which were delicious) and went to the beach. To get to Qijin Beach, you have to take a ferry. The ferry ride was pretty, and we could use our metro pass to get on, which was very convenient. Once we got to Qijin, there were several street food vendors, and the area was quite cool.

After a short walk, we arrived at the actual beach. The sand was black/grey, which was pretty cool when you first saw it. However, after researching, I learned that the sand is that color because of decades of oil and sewage discharged from the ships that dock in the nearby Kaohsiung harbor. What also surprised me was how dirty the beach was. I've rarely seen any litter in Taiwan, but on the beach, there was so much everywhere. I'm not sure why that was, but one theory was that it was because of the recent Typhoon, and nobody has cleaned it up yet. Also, we couldn't go far into the water because of rip currents and steep drop-offs in certain places. I did enjoy drawing "Go Gators" in the sand, though (see picture below)!

Once we were tired of the beach, we grabbed some ice cream from 711 and headed back. Once off the ferry, we stopped for some dumplings. The lady who worked at the restaurant was very nice, and we had a conversation in Chinese. Then, we headed back to the hotel to rest and do some laundry.

Jack, Jacob, and I went to Lingya night market for dinner. It was just two stops on the metro and a short walk away. This night market was slightly different from those I have been to before as there was running car traffic in the middle. We found a place with indoor seating and decided to try it out. I got a steak, egg, and noodle dish for only 250 NTD. The steak was good, and they also served us corn soup, bread rolls, and tea for free. I did my best to conversate with the waitress in Chinese. I ordered the food for us, asked if the soup was free of charge, and made sure there was no milk in the soup since one of my friends had a dairy allergy. Overall, I enjoyed the meal and the experience as a whole.

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 83 // Your turn again, Claudia! // Day 57 (Bonus Chapter)

Contents (Warnings): Claudia gets the chance to host another game! (slight angst, vore mentions, craving, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 3,300 +

Song I correlate to this Chapter: Under the Influence (Violin) - Joey Sunny

Side note: This chapter will be in the usual format again, Lynette first person and everyone else third person. I apologize for the confusion!

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

(Nov. 21st, Monday)

Lynette

Being 5 feet tall is so much better than 4 inches tall. I thought, poking at my scrambled eggs.

It may have been the sporadic thoughts bouncing around my head, but sticking my fork into a clump of eggs was hard. It felt like I was trying to stab into a grape.

The coffee makers hum from across the bar called my attention. I peered up to see Wicks waiting for his cup of coffee. He leaned on the fridge beside the counter the machine rested on. He slumped his head on the side of the glass fridge door. 

He got home so late. He got home at 5 in the morning.

Thus, I refused to start training today because of his exhausted state.

And he didn't tell me why he was out so late. "Has work been well?" I asked, finally getting the eggs with my...I realized I had a spoon and not a fork. That explains why I couldn't stab them. 

My whole body shot up. I felt like I was back on the steak, and Lev poked my leg with the fork. You know, spoons are better anyway. 

"It's been work. Good days and bad, some more stressful than others." Wicks flipped around. His coffee mug is in his right hand. "I'm glad I can do something good." 

He yawned.

The bags under your eyes look so much worse. He asked me a question after—I might have looked disgruntled by his answer. 

"Are you worried about last night? You know I've been out for days at a time before."

I quickly swallowed the second spoonful and countered him, "That was BEFORE I knew what you did!"

Wicks's hazel hue whipped at me. Uh oh. I imagined the green light telling him it was okay to sass me pop over my head.

He calmly put down his coffee, slid it further away, then faced me and slammed his palms onto the counter.

"OH, YOU CAN WORRY ABOUT ME," He bought his hands into his army green t-shirt then flipped his hand up to me, "BUT when I tell you how ridiculous that BET to be tiny was with YOUR coworkers, I'M THE BAD GUY!" Wicks grunted out, "YOU WERE EVEN STAYING AT THEIR HOUSES!"

I got up from my stool and shook my head, "I didn't call you the bad guy, Wicks!" I refused to answer to anything else that he said. Lev didn't give me a choice. 

Wicks slid his mug back in front of him and picked it up. 

He dropped his voice, "You see what I mean though."

"Yeah..." I sighed, "But you can't compare your work to mine. I work at a pizzeria with some jerky coworkers. You work problems head on, right?" I put more eggs in my mouth.

Wicks narrowed his eyes with disgust, "It's not a competition of whether I have it worse, Lentils." He lifted his mug to his face, "You also can't summarize your coworkers as normal jerks either."

I saw his lack of hesitation to drink the his coffee.

I lurched forward to try and touch his hand or cup. "Wicks, you didn't even-"

He took a sip, cried out, and put his cup back down. He held his mouth shut.

"You just made it! It's going to be hot, Wicks!"

Wicks lifted his hand slightly, "I was too busy being frustrated with you. You distracted me."

"Sorry," I apologized. 

I expected to see Wicks's eyes glow and for him to use reversal magic. It never happened. "Are you going to heal it?"

Wicks glanced up and stuck his tongue out, showing its lack of redness, then pulled it back. "Magus's bodies normally heal themselves." He smiled with relief, "Good thing too. I'm terrible with assistance magic."

"Really?"

"It's not what I focused on with my training. Dad had me learn more offensive magic." He touched the rim of his cup with his finger, "I've got plenty of time to learn it anyway." 

I finished up my eggs and felt a cramp of jealousy. I wish I could use magic too.

...

Alexander

It was slow. 

He found himself working at the registers with Lynette because Claudia was also working today. Other than that, he'd be in the back, and Lev would be out doing the odd jobs.

Alexander watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was nearest to the pizza pick-up station. 

His body twitched anytime she moved a little closer, cleaning, fidgeting, whatever the case. He held back his reflex to grab her. 

How long has it been? He asked himself the terrible question. He knew he shouldn't think like that when his victory wasn't even secured. 

He grumbled, "If only Drake didn't distract my ass."

Lynette flinched, "First thing you say in the last hour, and it's about that." 

He rolled his eyes and pressed up his rectangular lenses. "You'd be pissed too if you missed an opportunity, right?"

"Not to eat someone," Lynette muttered, momentarily meeting his gaze. Alexander knew he shouldn't have, and he felt relieved seeing her turn her head away. "I also remember what you did on my first day after the wedding."

Alexander shut his eyes. He distinctly remembered it, too. They lazily reopened, and Alexander stared toward the main entrance. He couldn't let himself see her nervousness. 

"Yeah, and how many times have you manipulated my ass to win, Shrimp." He wore a slight smirk. 

"And how many times have you proposed unfair games!"

"Like you aren't doing the same," Alexander retorted—he found his eyes trailing back to her. "I hope you know that even though you and Claudia decided on something together, you aren't winning today."

Alexander had turned to look at Lynette upon saying that. And the dark blue-haired bastard pinched his cheek, "Outsmarting them requires you to be smart, Wendie~." 

The glass-clad male's hand went up to grab Lev's wrist. He barely missed as the drakin spun with the pizza and laughed. 

"Asshole."

Lev fake gasped as he put the pizza away, "That's not proper language for the counter," the playful hook stabbed into Alexander's lip. It curled up.

He was ready to wrestle Lev onto the floor. 

Lev continued, this time speaking to Lynette. "He looks a little more balked than usual. He didn't get you yesterday, did he?" 

"No and-"

The drakin's finger came out and went to touch her lips, shushing her. "I know. He won't get you today either, right?~"

Lynette stumbled back from Lev. Her back was to Alexander.

Alexander tuned out of their conversation and focused downward. 

Each of Lev's steps made her retreat closer to him. 

As saliva pooled inside his mouth, he sealed his lips tightly. And to keep himself from drowning, he swallowed.

His core yearned for a meal. His body knew he'd enjoy her.

His arms were jerked upward when she bumped into his chest. His instincts nearly consumed him as he held her upper arms. Seeing Lev and Zilla, who had just walked inside, watchful and waiting, he let go.

He bit his own lip until it bled to regain control over himself. 

"Lev, don't work on getting Wendie fired." Zilla's bright smile was as mocking as Lev's. "I don't want one less meal option during lunch." 

"He has more self-control than that, I'm sure." Lev chuckled unapologetically.  

Smug asshole. You did that on purpose. 

Once everything got settled again and the two left, Lynette and him resumed their positions at the counter. She spoke first, "sorry for bumping into you."

Alexander saw a customer coming inside. He rolled his shoulders and replied, "Next time, pay attention to your surroundings."  

He regretted saying what he did, because it spurred a grotesque memory. One that at least kept his attention off Lynette. 

...

Lynette

I left the counter before Alexander. I don't even know what Claudia has planned for today. We talked about what we'd do after the holidays on Saturday. There's no guarantee it'll go well, anyway. I have to tell Claudia no, even if Alexander won't eat me for the weekend if I win. 

I removed my badge and scanned out, ready to return to the breakrooms. 

If she can't perform much magic, I wonder what she'll be doing instead. 

She mentioned she's not supposed to use a lot of magic. 

I put my badge into my pocket with my phone. I should be more positive, but Lev is here, and Xander's still mad from yesterday.

"Lynette," Zilla's melodonic and soft voice tenderly pulled at my ear. When my head twisted back to see her, she slung an arm over my shoulders. Zilla leaned on me as she scanned out. 

"Hi, Zilla." You want to do some kind of deal, don't you?

"How was your vacation? I feel like we haven't talked much since our girl day." She pulled out her black scrunchy. It allowed her choppy, grayish-white locks to puffy out and free. The rosey scent touched my nose, and her hair partially brushed my face.

"It's been good..." She tugged me with her. "How about yours? What did you do?"

Her violet left me and went ahead to the glass sliding door. It opened for us. "Mine was as good as it could be with Zane." She didn't describe what they did.

Her voice echoed in the room that had all the table and chairs removed from the center. "None of the boys are here yet, Claudia?"

"Nope," she said. Claudia sat on the floor, playing with a large coin. It didn't have a picture on either side just the ridges around it's gold shimmer.

I felt the desperation flood my eyes, "This isn't a coin toss, is it?" 

Claudia slapped her hands onto the coin to catch it from rolling away. "No, no! We're gonna fight!"

Zilla pulled her arm away from me, "Do you think that'd be a good idea, Claudia?"

I hated to admit it. "Yeah, Claudia, I don't think I could overpower any of you."

Her head teetered to Zilla, then me, and she giggled, "That's why you get the coin first!" She slid the coin to my feet. Claudia then lifted her hat and out tumbled a roll of used gray duct table.

"You're going to tape it to me?!"

"So it's a little harder to steal from you," Claudia said. Why do you say that like it shouldn't even be a question!?

Zilla muffled her laugh and picked up the coin, "Claudia, we'd simply rip it from her." `

"Or take the whole package," Lev said from a distance behind me. I never hear him come in.

"I don't want to be tossed around again." My shoulders slumped.

"Tossed around?" Claudia eagerly bounced up. "What do you mean?

Zilla handed the coin back to me. It felt lighter. Then she went on to explain the game Drake posed on his day a while back. They all had to carry me through rooms and touch me with a wall while carrying me to win.

...

Zilla

Claudia seemed fascinated by the idea and decided to do something similar. As long as Lynette was within fifteen feet of the coin, it counted as her win if one of them made it into the tape circles on the ground, linked to the coin. There were five in total all across the room.

Zilla had already made her first move, but she wanted to keep the attention on her like normal without fully revealing what she had done.  

"Regarding bets today, since I'll be playing," her combat boots reverberated with each step. She confidently stood before the two taller males. "I've decided if I win, I want you both to give yourselves to me willingly."

Their faces flare, amused her. Alexander's face was consistently honest, so his face openly showed it's disgust. While Lev excelled at hiding it. Nonetheless, it still showed subtle perturbation for a moment.

Alexander looked at another table, "whatever."

While, in typical Lev fashion, he wanted to push her to give up first. "And if I win, Zilla, you'll willingly give yourself to me."

The thought stewed in her stomach. I know how you treat your prey. She didn't have to look at the redhead again to confirm it.

She combatted his stance by mimicking its opposing force, "I'll take that wager, Lev.~" Zilla even copied his tune. 

He leaned closer with his yellow heat burning in his eyes. Zilla matched his closeness. Their faces were inches apart.

Zilla could see the excitement sprouting from him. It was always apparent with his teeth. Sharp enough to bite if you wanted to.  

Besides her distaste for the bet, she had to admit that the games they played were rather fun. His dedication and attention to detail impressed her. 

Let's see how quick you catch on then, Lev. 

Claudia shouted to get their attention and Lev pulled back first. 

...

Lev

Claudia pushed the coin about the size of Lynette's head to her.

"I don't want to get thrown across the room."

Claudia laughed, "that'd be funny."

"You better not toss her around; she's fragile as hell."

All humans are.

"I'm not that fragile," Lynette gripped the coin. 

Lev couldn't resist. "Wanna test that, Lynette? I'd love to have you over again.~" He watched her create more distance between them. You make it so easy. 

"What did you do to her?" Alexander, who was only half paying attention prior, was pulled in.

Wouldn't you like to know. Lev thought before letting the words roll off his tongue, "something that you clearly haven't had the chance to indulge in yet.~" Lev purposefully selected what he said to spur even further confusion.

Alexander furrowed his brow together like two rhinoceros beetles clashing horns, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" 

Lev didn't answer. Instead, he keenly listened to Claudia's rules, wanting to find a way around them. 

"No fighting each other with magic, and no monster forms. Lynette will start in the middle of the room; we each start at our own circle."

She gestured around the room; all the tables were moved to the far edges of the breakroom so they weren't inconvenient.  

Hmm. We'll all end up bolting for Lynette first. Getting the coin from Claudia will be far more difficult than Zilla.

"I'm going to get smashed to a pulp," Lynette told Claudia. Zilla joined in on the teasing, and Lev took the opportunity to speak to Alexander. Aw, you don't look enthralled by the idea.

Lev slowly leaned over and whispered, "Do you want to work together?"

His eyes squinted like someone took off his glasses. "Huh?"

"You know this isn't a good idea. Lynette's very fragile." Lev said. And she's your responsibility. "So, why don't we team up. I get the coin, and you hold Lynette back. That way, in the end, you get to eat her, and I get to eat Zilla." 

"Holding her without eating her will be a pain in the ass," Alexander commented.

That's not a no, is it?~

"You know, out of the both of us, I'm definitely better at avoiding things. It would be easy for Claudia and or Zilla to get you." Lev said. 

He could feel Alexander's consideration. I'm grateful you think logically. 

"Fine, but if I grab her don't any waste time." 

I'd bet three minutes at most before he'd just eat her. Lev thought, containing his chuckle. He couldn't break that already loose trust Alexander placed in him. 

Not that long after they got to their stations. Lynette would be heading for the circle ahead of her that didn't house anyone. The two most advantageous at the time were Lev and Zilla. Across from one another, waiting for their chance to move.

Zilla's too cocky. Her, Lynette, and Claudia are most likely in a deal right now.

Lev thought more about Claudia. She's always the one that leaves me curious. She does things on whims.

The buzzer that was Claudia's phone and they all ran. Lev was a bit faster, his objective was to get her to stop running, which he did when he was able to grab one of her arms and sling her back by it. Her back landed in his arm, and he dipped her with a grin.

"Got something for me?~" His vocals sang. He went to snatch the coin from her hands while she panicked to keep herself from falling from his hold.

Claudia sprang at him next, using her "wings". One snatched at Lev. He let Lynette go. The other caught Lynette and helped her up.

Lev maneuvered the "wings" and checked the distance between him and Lynette.

He counted his steps, making sure he wouldn't back into anything. He also kept a firm track of Zilla. Or he assumed so. He figured she did some type of spatial magic to get close enough to him.

She threw herself at the coin, he threw himself back at the risk of Claudia. Dodging Zilla, however the fae took her opportunity and her arm swung back into Lev. It struck his side, though not with much force sent him into Zilla. They were flung back toward another circle while the coin laid at the center of the room.

"You're awfully heavy in your human case!" Zilla commented pushing him off.

Lev flipped up from the ground and teased Claudia. "Your arms are technically part of your monster form Claudia, you broke your own rules."

The fae shook her head, "they-" she couldn't argue with him. And tossed the coin to the other side, near where Alexander held Lynette.

Zilla got a slight headstart. It only spurred Lev further, he raced out, desperately trying to catch up. They couldn't use the circle that the coin was near, Lynette was most likely fifteen feet away.

Zilla got it, she threw a chair to Lev to hit his legs. He jumped over it and lunged at her. She threw herself out of the way. Lev twisted his body before he landed, hit the side of his body into the wall, and used his elemental, wind magic to propel himself at her. He cut it off, obeying Claudia's "not using magic to hurt anyone" rule, and crashed into Zilla again.

He struck her side this time from behind. It threw her off balance and near another circle. She had let go of the ring, Lev caught it in mid-air and tried to step inside.

Zilla twisted herself on the ground and slammed her leg into Lev's, he fell, luckily into a table to catch himself. He still had the coin.

Zilla had gotten up, and that was when Lev heard Alexander yell. It destroyed their whole fight, because it was then Lev realized the coin felt light.

...

Alexander

He didn't expect it to be easy. Mostly because everyone would be struggling to get to the center at Lynette. Lev had it first, then Claudia, and the fighting continued. Lynette wanted to focus on staying her distance. That was when he got behind her and scooped her up. 

She immediately yelped and glanced back the best she could. Her legs flailed, and he kept her arms restrained at her sides.

"Xander!"

It was hard to keep her restrained without making a move. "Quit IT." 

"Why are you picking me up!? Put me down, I don't have the coin!"

Alexander's stomach rumbled. The word, down, overwhelmed his thoughts. He gulped, swallowing the overabundance of saliva. 

"Why did you have to use that phrase," he groaned in annoyance.

She didn't stop fighting him. "Because not everyone thinks like you guys do!"

Fuck. "And not everyone smells so damn appetizing." There was a persistent whine coming from his stomach. Alexander's body was fighting him too. This reminds me of that damn cube. 

He tried to keep track of the others, "We're gonna win anyway."

"We..." She felt his grip tightened—he kept it light enough not to crush her. "You guys are working together!" 

Alexander's eyes flared with their bright blue light; his size was itching to change. "How many times have you worked with-" He saw Zilla get knocked back. He dropped Lynette, and lurched in her direction. That was when he viewed the faint magic text coming from her. 

He concentrated on it, and he realized Zilla used illusion magic to hide the real coin that she had duct taped to her shirt. 

"SHE'S USING ILLUSION MAGIC!" Alexander shouted, but the game was already over. Zilla stepped into one of the circles. 

Claudia laughed, "OH, that's why it felt different!"

Lev waved the coin he currently held. It vanished once Zilla released the illusion. 

She knew if she didn't keep fighting with them, we'd pick up on her. Alexander eyed Lynette. She got away from him. It made him want to pursue her. 

Lev spoke, "Zilla, your bet was to be able to eat Wendie and me willingly, right?"

Zilla tossed the coin back to Claudia and approached them, "Correct."

"Perfect," Lev said. 

He snapped his head back. Lev's intentions met Lynette's; she wanted to create run from him, but he grabbed her wrist and dragged her into a hug. "Then I will gladly let you eat me after I have my snack~."

You fucker. "You didn't win the bet, Lev." Alexander missed his opportunity once again.

Lev firmly held her, "Unlike our other deals, we usually make bets on who gets her. Zilla's bet never specified Lynette being "safe"."

He then whispered something to Lynette after and she went crazy. 

"This is so cheap!" 

"Aw, come on, we're a team; we should all work together. Shouldn't we?" Lev's case burst first. Now holding Lynette with a singular hand. Alexander didn't want to watch Lev enjoy her.

It didn't seem Zilla was interested either, so she beckoned Alexander to follow her to the next breakroom. 

Why do I keep making these stupid bets? I should just eat her. Alexander thought to himself.

He eyed Zilla from behind; whether bad or not, her lack of scent still bothered him. 

"I don't trust Lev very much. He might give the excuse that he already ate, so he can't be eaten."

They went through the glass door together, "asshole." 

Zilla's chuckled as she turned around to look at Alexander better. "You could have fought with him like Claudia is now." Zilla pointed behind him. He turned to see Claudia was swinging about, supposedly on Lev.  

"I'm not going to fucking play tug of war with someone who has the tensile strength of a tissue."

He didn't look back again. He felt Zilla's case break and he could feel her clawed hands inching at his back.

Every muscle in his body clenched, he wanted to fight it or run from her. Her hand, smooth and firm, wrapped around him like he was a doll. She brought him up and made him face her. She didn't look too different in her naga form, at least her upper half didn't.

She smiled, showing off her fangs. "Can't you at least try to look happy, Wendie?"

Alexander being brought to her plump lips still growled out, "I hope you choke."

It made her laugh before she opened her fanged mouth wide to eat him.

 ...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List)