#i hate textures and. stomach issues

[werewolfgenesis]

I love food . Food is so good but listen. Sometimes I hate trying new foods. And I hate it because sometimes I discover even more things that fuck with my stomach and make me nauseous and it is NOT fun and that's not even mentioning the new textures a food can be so good but the texture can just. Ruin it. I'm so sad.

[berryblu-soda]

made egg drop soup this morning! its actually so hearty and nice, will deffo make it again :) also made chili oil like the day before yesterday and added it; so good guys!!!!

also!! okk so if yalls pizza comes with chili flakes you can just save those and when you have a bunch pour em out in a bowl, heat up some olive oil (i did 1/3 cup) ; mince a big clove of garlic, fry it in said oil till it´s a lil brown. add in the chili flakes (lower the heat!!! you dont want em to burn!!!) and when theyre ever so slightly darker take em off the heat. then just sprinkle in as much sesame seeds as you want. (additional very optional incredients are salt, white vinegar, peanuts and more oil <- if its too spicy)

it´s an express version i made up of "salsa macha" recipes :), goes great with eggs and beans type of foods.

also made the egg drop soup with a leftover ramen flavouring, onion, cornstarch (for consistency) and eggs + a couple drops of the chili oil

[nexus-nebulae]

i wonder when the last time was that i went more than 24 hours without taking any form of medication

[moonlitlex]

deleting my long post to rephrase it to this: some of yalls reactions to the club thing is immediately shut down something you've never experienced and have a lot of misconceptions about (like i've seen multiple people say they've never been to the club because they don't do fun things like have themes). and i think. you should be more open to new experiences. you don't have to like the club or even really go to the club but shutting down the idea of doing a whole category of activity without ever trying it is just going to shut you off from experiencing new and potentially enjoyable things.

and this also happens like. pretty much every time a "you should do this thing that i think is fun" post starts making the rounds it becomes about how it's soooooo unreasonable to expect the mostly adult userbase of this website to try new things and be open to new experiences just because people on here have social anxiety or sensory issues or xyz other thing that makes it harder to do some things.

but they also have this extremely strong aversion to experiencing anything unpleasant at all. like i've seen people on that post talk about how they can't watch tv where characters die because it's upsetting. but the thing is if you never experience things that are unpleasant you are going to be that same person forever.

like it fucking sucks to hear for me to this day but the only way you can get over your social anxiety is by doing things that cause that anxiety. and you should never be forced to do them. you should choose to. but you have to do them or the anxiety will literally just get worse forever. do it scared. do it alone. do it while crying, even. but do it. i used to burst into tears at the idea of going up to a cashier to pay for my stuff. and i don't anymore because i did it scared and alone and while feeling like i was going to pass out.

this isn't really about the club. it's about the way people on here react to literally any post that says something along the lines of "you should do stuff"

[ncis-nerd]

A Misson Gone Wrong

grey november au

You were holed up in Natasha's room, basically your room by now. The Russian welcomed you with open arms. She knew of your nightmares and sleeping problems so she was careful not to wake you when she came back from late night missions.

Though this did not always work due to your being a light sleeper and the moment her body hit the mattress your eyes opened. "Natty?" you'd mumble sleepily, pressing your hands into fists against your eye. Natasha hated when you did this, as she didn't want you to harm your vision.

"Shh, t's okay. M' here sweet girl, go back to sleep." She'd hum, pressing a kiss against your forehead and soothing you back to sleep. The older woman loved when you called her Natty. A nickname you only called her in your softest hours, when it was just you and her. She picked up on this the next day when you guys were in a meeting.

"Natasha" you'd address her. She'd look at you with a raised eyebrow. A little hurt but she understood you were just trying to maintain professionalism. The woman obviously teased you about it afterwards. In the kitchen, when you were getting one of your granola bars. One of very few things that you ate, due to texture issues you couldn't stomach certain foods.

Natasha obviously noticed this after finding multiple snack wrappers in the trash. She would dismiss it for right now. A conversation for another time. You sat on the counter, your legs swinging off the side. Unintentionally kicking the cabinets below you. Natasha stood between your legs, holding your cheek in her palm.

"Natasha, huh?" The older woman hummed, looking at you munching on your snack. Stray crumbles fell off the side of your mouth. She smiled softly at this. You met her gaze with a pout falling upon your face. Your whole demeanor shifted, you fell silent. She took this as a sign of you not wanting to talk in such a public place. She dropped it for right now.

----☆---------☆-------☆------☆---------☆----

You were back in the red-head's room. She had gone away on a mission but before she did, she told you that you were welcome to stay in her room to work or whatever.

You sat on her bed, your computer on your lap. Softly, you hummed to the beat of Hamilton as you looked over the notes from the last meeting. You had a bad habit of overworking yourself. Unfortunately for you, this was a habit you had not grown out of. You soon realized after doozing off in Natasha's bed, with your laptop still on.

A door squeaked, the attempted closing of it quietly failed. As you arose out of bed and began to rub your eyes. What time was it? Why was Natasha home so soon? The Russian did not address you, you sat up and tried to locate her in the room. However, due to her deathly quiet flootsteps you failed to.

You heard water running in the spy's bathroom. You knocked on the door, sensing that something was up. Why wouldn't Natasha at the very least say hi? She always welcomed you with a kiss on the forehead. "natty, it's me. is everything okay?" you asked sleepily. a soft yawn escaped your lips.

"just go back to bed detka, i've got some work to do before i can join you." Natasha spoke, her voice sounded cold. No emotion in it. This scared you. But there was nothing you could do so you let her know that you were here if she wanted to talk.

Not wanting to go back to sleep, before seeing if the woman was okay, you went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate for the two of you, nearly burning yourself in the progress. When you returned, the Russian was still in the bathroom. You set her cup down on the nightstand and opened your computer. You continued to work on the document from before you fell asleep. A few hours pass, your eye lids feel heavily and you are fighting off sleep when the older woman finally opens the door.

Her eyes blood-shot red, as if she had bene crying. Immediately you rose to go comfort the Russian. Your arms open and ready to hold her. She accepts your embrace, your arms wrap around her, though you are shorter than the woman, you make up for it in your hugs.

You just stand there in silence. Natasha buried her head into the crook of your neck, holding you close. You had never seen her like this and it made you concerned. So vulnerable and hurt.

taglist: @ssa-shaylam@madamevirgo

part 2

[adventuringblind]

Stash

Oscar Piastri x Autistic Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: Oscar confronts his lovers' weird habits for food storing.

Warnings: talks of eating disorders and past abuse

Notes: based on personal experience. My therapist says she's glad that I have an outlet. Apparently, writing myself into scenarios like this is healing. Who would've ever thunk it??

Masterlist

Oscar was prepared for a great many things when his girlfriend moved in with him. Things they had already talked about extensively. Like how she has her own routine that she follows, even if it doesn't feel like it. Or how she has sleeps on top of the duvet instead of under it.

Things that seem very minor to him. Apparently, other people have said it's weird, and she felt the need to warn him about her habits before moving in. She likes to communicate like that. Another thing he loves about her.

What he was not expecting was to find food stashed away in the most random places.

He didn't confront her about it at first. Maybe this is just a way she feels safe or a reminder to herself to eat something when she sees it. But then he started getting concerned when he wasn't seeing her eat at home.

She followed him around to races and could eat at restaurants, given she was with safe people who didn't tease her for being so plain. She ate snacks when she felt the need.

While she was out one day, he asked Lando over. The Brit was mildly confused as to why he was helping search the depths of the flat for food.

"You litterally have stocked cupboards."

"It's not for me! My girlfriend is stashing food around the house, and I'm trying to see if there is a pattern and maybe figure out why."

"Have you considered asking?"

"Not after she joked about her relationship with food."

Lando, who knows very well how hard eating can be sometimes, comes to the realization that there may be more to this then just sensory issues. Insecurity and scrutiny are hard things to deal with. He wouldn't be shocked if that's the reason she has foods she loves in places Oscar wouldn't find them.

Eventually they do find a pattern. It's not about where they are hidden, it's about what is hidden. It feels as if a child thought they were going to get in trouble for not asking to eat first. It's saddening to Oscar that his lover doesn't feel she can just eat normally around him.

"Do you know if she grew up doing this?"

"No clue."

~~~~~

When she got home that night, she found Oscar setting the table for dinner. Which is already odd considering they don't eat at the table. She hates eating at the table. It feels like she's being judged while she eats and makes her unable to think clearly.

But she would suffer through it. Why? because Oscar has made her comfort food, and it would be a crime not to eat with him after he did such a thing.

"What's all this for?" She asks while setting her things down.

"Well, I know you hate the dinner table, but we need to talk about something, and I thought comfort food and dim lighting might help the anxiety."

She takes her seat and thanks him for the gesture. The pit in her stomach aching with the thought of what he may want to talk about.

"So, your food stashing habits...."

Oh. Oh no. She'd been found out. She is going to get lectured just like she did at home. The one thing she was trying to desperately to avoid.

She drops her head in shame. "I'm so sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong, alright?" I just need to know why and if I can help. You're not eating full meals when we're home and the food your hiding makes me think your self-conscious. I just want you to feel safe here, with me."

She sighs. The female knew she would have to confront this eventually. It's not that she doesn't feel safe eating here, it's that these are learned habits that she has yet to unlearn.

"My parents would often get upset when I didn't eat what they made. It's not that I was being ungrateful, I just couldn't keep it in my mouth without gagging. Textures and things."

Oscar hums as he listens. He knows textures are hard for her. Food, clothing, even certain blankets are hard for her to feel.

"My parents were also always talking about my eating habits. So, to avoid being scrutinized, I would hide food in my room to eat when nobody was around."

Oscar is a soft person. Easygoing, quiet, and according to Lando, boring. In this moment he is none of those things. He feels for his lover that she doesn't feel safe eating at home because of her parents.

Thus enters a time of Oscar warming her up to eating in the house. Not just small things, real meals and snacks and simply whenever she's hungry.

It's definitely a slow process. Oscar still finds food in strange places occasionally, but he leaves it and reminds her that it's okay to put her food in the cabinet.

He never makes a mention of what she's eating. Even if he's just curious. He never talks about it.

Eventually, she starts putting her food in the cupboard. conversations about food become a little easier and doesn't send her into a flurry of insecurity.

Every little step counts, and Oscar is proud of her for every single one she takes.

[bloodcasket]

WHEN YOU'RE INJURED.

PAIRING(S): Ellie Williams x Reader, Abby Anderson x Reader.

WARNINGS: Mentions injury(cuts), blood, and other wounded descriptions. Slight angst?- (Possibly). Do not read if these are sensitive topics for you!

DESCRIPTION: How they react to your injury/take care of your wounds.

ELLIE WILLIAMS ;

The more loving, and attentive in this situation.

She sees you standing in front of her with a bleeding arm and she's immediately panicking.

After her trauma with Riley and all her other friends dying from infection, the last thing she wishes to see is her lover in pain.

But, she is extremely attentive. Remember when she was taking care of Joel? She will be on her hands and knees for you during times like these.

She rushes to go grab some supplies, not really having an idea in mind, just the goal of getting you healed.

She's full of anxiety and almost forgets to breathe.

"Shit! Where the fuck is it?". She quite literally rummages through everything and makes a mess.

Nothing else matters but you in this situation.

She comes back out with some antibiotics to clean you up, and some sutures to stitch your injury.

"I found some stuff...it might not be the best but it'll get you stitched up".

Her hands are shaking, you have to reassure her that you're okay.

"I got you, I got you", she'll whisper as she cleans you up.

Truth is, Ellie is a little insecure.

When she takes care of her own cuts, she does them messily and doesn't care enough to fix them.

But for you? Oh no. She has to make sure she does this right for her angel. She's just a little anxious she can't do it, is all.

When she's finished doing the best she can, she bends down to softly kiss your bandaged skin.

"There ya go. All better babe".

She's whispering sweet nothings to you all night.

She's hot on you ALL WEEK. Will not stop glancing at you and feeling guilty, even though it wasn't her fault.

"Hey babe, you feeling better?".

She needs a lot of reassurance that you're recovering fine. She doesn't want to lose you after all. It's one of her biggest fears. Even if it's over one trivial cut.

Waits for you to fall asleep at the end of every night to make sure you're not in any pain or form of discomfort.

She's the type of girlfriend to trace her fingers over your scarred skin lovingly once it's healed.

"I think I stitched it pretty good, didn't I?". A cocky act for someone who was scared shitless about you being hurt.

She's an extremely caring girlfriend even though she likes to pretend she's not. With Ellie, you'll feel loved and worshipped every moment.

YOU'RE sitting on the couch with Ellie, the faint sound of the record player playing music in background. A faint sigh is heard from below you, one that sounds defeated and downcast.

"You okay?", you run your hands through Ellie's hair as she lays her head down softly in your lap, her face turned toward your stomach. She responds by reaching up and softly tracing her fingers along your wounded arm, feeling the texture of the cotton wrapped around your skin.

"I hate seeing you hurt like this", she grumbles, and you try your best to hold back a chuckle. She's been like this all week, clinging to you with a woeful tone. "I know", is all you can say, your fingers gingerly massaging her scalp, "and I love you".

You watch her melt into your touch, her lips curving into a soft smile. You can tell she tries to hide it. "I love you too babe". Only you can make her smile like this.

ABBY ANDERSON ;

The more experienced and intelligent in this situation.

Abby is definitely more knowledgeable when it comes to issues like this, she knows exactly what to do because of her father being a doctor.

The moment you're showing her your laceration, she's immediately seating you down someplace safe, telling you to wait a second while she grabs the medkit.

She's extremely calm, her face showing patience, but her eyes prevailing concern.

She doesn't panic you in this situation, quite the opposite. She holds her mature composure.

She soothes you and tells you everything is going to be okay, that she'll take care of you.

Her hands are large and soft against you as she's examining your body. Your face becomes flush as her warm palms caress your aching skin.

"Does this area hurt babe?" , Her keen attention does things to you.

She smiles up at you in-between stitching the cut, trying her best to ease you.

"Hey, hey, hey. Focus on me okay? I know it hurts baby, I'm almost done".

She cleans your wounds thoroughly and makes sure everything is disinfected and wrapped up professionally.

She questions you after everything is done, acting annoyed with her grumpy expression. She wants to know every miniscule detail.

Truth is, she's just extremely anxious as to how you even became hurt in the first place. She wants to find a way to prevent it happening again.

"Just...please be safe next time or else I'll have to go with you. Okay baby?".

She gives you that intimidating glare, one that warns you to be more cautious of your surroundings.

You promise it won't happen again.......but your answer doesn't suffice. Abby sticks to you like glue.

She checks up on you every day and helps aid you when it comes to changing the bandages.

"Stop it, give that to me", she quickly takes the bandages from your hand, "let me do that for you".

She's an experienced girlfriend and is set on a routine of taking care of you. When you're dating Abby, you'll feel like a spoiled princess.

YOU'RE currently in the bathroom, examining all the medical tools Abby has. Truth is, you're searching for something to replace your old bandages with since they became soiled and bloody. "Where are they?-" you ask yourself, but are soon stopped as your girlfriend enters.

"What are you doing?", Abby is propped up against the frame of the door, looking at you with a questioning expression. "I thought I told you to come to me when you needed help changing those. Here, let me handle it", she sits you down on the toilet seat as she goes to unwrap your gauze.

"Looks better already. It's healing quick sweetheart, I'm proud of you". Her smile is so sweet and warm as she looks down at you.

She bends down to kiss your forehead, and you're smiling like an idiot as you feel her soft lips press against your temple.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for refusing to eat my family's food?

btw tw for child illness below:

i (15nb) hate cheese. when i say hate, it's a knee-jerk gag reflex response. when i was four or five, i was really ill after eating cheese. maybe it wasn't connected, but the experience of getting severe food poisoning as an already very ill child (long story. bad immune system. many near death experiences) was not a pleasant one. furthermore, i'm autistic, so i struggle with sensory issues and can't eat many foods because of texture reasons. i'm definitely a picky eater, and that alongside the cheese thing has really annoyed my family over the years.

basically, i won't go near cheese. won't eat it, won't even go down the aisle of the shops that sells it. it makes me feel sick. the smell, the texture. i just can't. i haven't eaten it for ten years. sometimes, i eat a little if i feel like it, like i can just about stomach smoked cheese IF I CHOOSE TO EAT IT.

my family all love cheese. they have a cheese board at every meal. sometimes i can't bear to sit with them at the table because of the cheese, but they say i'm overreacting and refuse to get rid of it or eat the cheese elsewhere, since it's their meal as well as mine. and i completely understand that. until recently, they've respected my wishes and made me cheese-free versions of their cheesy meals. they still want me to eat cheese, saying that i'm really limiting my diet (i'm not) and that it's just a phase (two thirds of my life?) but i can kind of put up with that kind of pressure. it's not a big deal for me.

anyway, every week we have a family dinner, all of us together. my family made tacos. i was really pleased, since my family refuse to eat anything 'foreign' due to their hate of anything they deem 'foreign'. also, it was spicy, and i love spice but they hate it. then, at the end of the dinner, they confessed that they had put cheese in the meal to prove that i 'could eat it'. the spice was there to hide the flavour. they were all conspiring to do this for ages to 'make me grow up' and 'realise that cheese isn't bad'.

i feel really betrayed. i feel like they betrayed my trust. i've told them so many times cheese makes me feel ill. i told them that i wouldn't eat any more food they cook me since i can't trust them, and they got really angry and said that i was overreacting and being ungrateful.

so, am i the asshole? i mean, the cheese didn't make me feel ill and i CAN eat it, and i know it's just a mental thing rather than an allergy, but i feel like they should still respect my wishes. i'm probably overreacting, but i just feel like i can't trust what they say any more, since they've lied over something that's kinda important to me.

What are these acronyms?

[stardropsaloongossiptrain]

Bachelor/ettes and Cooking

Gonna rank how I think the marriage candidates would do in the kitchen

----

Bachelors:

Elliott -- it takes a while, but once the man has a real kitchen at his disposal and some encouragement to try, I think he would really enjoy cooking and could be very good at it! I HC him as growing up in a wealthy home where he probably wasn't allowed to cook for himself, and then the cabin has nothing... but he remembers dishes he really enjoyed. I like to think he starts cooking just trying to help out once he moves to the farm, and there is DEF a learning curve... but there's a master chef hiding in there. I can feel it.

Alex -- you do not grow up with Grannie Evelyn and not learn how to cook. Impossible. Now, he's not a fancy chef by any means, but he can make a meal without issue. If you get this man a grill, he will 1000% become Grill Master, Kiss the Cook apron wearing Grill Dad. Also, though he rarely does it, he can bake up a storm. Generally only bakes for birthdays.

Harvey -- He can cook, but only cooks healthy meals. He will need to be taught that it's okay to season your food. Brown rice, steamed veggies, and plain tofu/ chicken breasts type guy. Otherwise, it's pre-packaged frozen food. Maybe he can get better w/ encouragement but he's always going to be checking portions and making sure you eat plenty of fruits and vegetables and watch your sodium intake. The most likely bachelor to be vegetarian/ be willing to go vegetarian. Gets nauseated if he's preparing meat.

Shane -- Mid-tier like Harvey, but even though he's had kitchen access he rarely feels like cooking. He knows what seasoning is-- his usual cooking style is the exact opposite of Harvey, mostly family recipes. All flavor, calorie count who?? Loves making food covered in cheese, sauce, or gravy. His chili would win awards, but he only makes it once a year.

Sam -- He could keep himself alive if the box has directions. Anything more complicated than boxed mac and cheese, though, and he gets a little lost. Can help YOU in the kitchen very well, but to be honest he would rather be doing something more exciting.

Sebastian -- The only one who is a worse cook than him is Abigail. He is NOT allowed in the kitchen even to watch. Could burn iced tea.

---

Bachelorettes

Emily -- Oldest sister + working at the Saloon added together means she's definitely going to be a decent cook, but she genuinely enjoys cooking. She loves to experiment with different cultural dishes. She only cooks vegetarian or vegan dishes.

Penny -- She's pretty self sufficient. I don't think she knows too many recipes, but she enjoys experimenting if she moves to the farmhouse. She's very adapt at stretching a budget, and I think she would enjoy making jams/ pickles. Not the big amount the farmer does, but small batches in special flavors.

Leah -- She's a simple cook. She prefers raw dishes, or things like buddha bowls. A lot of texture and flavor. Loves using herbs and edibles from foraging locally. Leans vegetarian but doesn't mind fish from time to time.

Maru -- Maru is proficient at cooking, but I think takes after her dad too much and is very nutrient focused vs what actually makes a good meal. Occasionally makes questionable decisions in the name of efficiency. Could go from making some sort of casserole if busy w/ a project to Extremely Experimental if she has the time. No in between.

Haley -- I considered putting her higher but no. She has rarely if ever had to cook for herself before, so if she's at the farmhouse she will be surprised if you expect her to do anything in the kitchen. Eventually I think she could be fine. It's not hard. She just hates doing dishes. Enjoys baking somewhat, especially w/ Alex.

Abigail -- She eats rocks as a snack and thinks if you just crank the oven to 600 for fifteen minutes it's better than 350 for an hour. Her stomach is alien to this world. Can and will eat anything without issue.

[ramblingautisticman]

You might have already written about this, but do you have any headcanons or writing where Wade is struggling with food?

I love to project my struggles onto him ✨

Okay I haven't actually written anything about this before, but let me assure you, I LOVE any of these kind of headcannons/fics. So here is me rambling about three varying headcannons to do with Wade and his relationship with food!

So here is a warning! Discussion of eating struggles, an eating disorder and body image issues! Please don't read if that upsets you!

I love the headcannon that he can't really taste anything because of the cancer and the torture, and I love to think (because I'm a monster) that because of that, his love for food went out the window. Wade used to love eating loads of different foods, loved to cook for him and Vanessa, loved to try new places that opened up- but after he lost his taste he found it just boring and annoying- and it broke his spirit alittle. So he doesn't really feel the need to eat anymore. What's the point when he can't enjoy it? So he eats when he needs to, but that's it.

I also headcannon that Wade doesn't eat because of body image issues. He is so insecure about how he looks due to his skin, that I think he notices the tiniest bit of fat on his stomach and it sends him into a spiral, because even if his skin if fucked up atleast he had amazing muscles and abs. Suddenly, the idea of that going away and him becoming even more disgusting enters his mind and he hates it. So he starts out by just going to the gym more- then he's on a diet- then he's counting calories- and then it becomes more of an obsession that anything. He counts every single calorie and before he realises, he isn't even eating. Wade still doesn't like how he looks, because his body regenerates at that same state, but he keeps trying. Desperately trying.

A slightly less depressing one (I know the other two are very intense, but I love angst and I apoligise lol) is that he is just VERY picky when it comes to food. He struggles to find food he likes and when he does, because the world hates him, they always seem to get discontinued or recalled. He is super sensitive to textures and flavours, so he ends up just making half of his food at home, and even then it's still a struggle to find stuff he can stomach.

(So, can you tell I love angst? I really really enjoyed this questions, so thank you for asking it!)

[moomeecore]

on god the people who invented takis are going to hell for making a food that is a fun shape, a wonderful texture, great taste, unbelievably unbearably addictive AND SIMOLTANIOUSLY the absolute worst food for your stomach health basically ever. please please i need someone to steal the secret formula for takis and make a version that has the same shape and taste and texture but doesn't make gastroenterologists hate you. i already have stomach issues AND i eat two fiesta sized taki bags a week. im going to die and im holding the taki brand personally accountable

[chaoticpuff17]

Amygdala

Masterlist

Chapter 14

Margot awoke to her a gentle shaking on her shoulder. 

“Come on, jagiya.” Yoongi spoke softly, shaking her awake. “You need to wake up, baby.” She groaned, burrowing further into the blanket while Yoongi looked down at her fondly. “I know you’re not feeling good, baby, but you need to get up.” 

She didn’t move.

“Come on, baby.” He cooed, slipping his arms underneath her and picking her up bridal style as she groaned and buried her face into his shoulder. “You need to eat something, and then I promise you can go back to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.” 

“You have to, baby. You didn’t eat much today.” 

“Whose fault is that?” she huffed, clinging to him as he walked them into the kitchen where a bowl of juk was waiting for her. 

“Food, pain medicine, and then bed.” He ordered, setting her down at the island. 

“Fuck off.” Margot grumbled, picking up the spoon and stirring around the contents of the bowl. “I hate your dishes.” 

He scoffed out the smallest of laughs, taking a seat next to her. “What’s wrong with my dishes?”

“They’re sanatorium white.” 

Yoongi chuckled, gazing at her fondly. “We can get new dishes. You can change anything in the apartment that you’d like. Redecorate to your heart’s content. It’s your house too, jagiya.” 

She looked over at him disgruntled. “This is not my house.” 

“Of course it is.” he shrugged. “Eat.” 

Reluctantly, Margot took a bite of the juk. It had never been her favorite dish. Something about the texture of the rice just wasn’t her favorite, too much like oatmeal too mushy, but it was a staple food for those who didn’t feel well. It also had the added benefit of being easy on an upset stomach. It reminded her of the BRAT diet her mom had used to put her on whenever she’d had stomach issues as a child. 

Thinking of it made her inexplicably homesick. It was a feeling she didn’t get very often, but when she did, it hit like a truck. She missed her family, her friends. She missed the streets she’d grown up on. She missed not having to worry about a man who had a delusional obsession with her. 

“How’s your head?” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Seongnam said you had a migraine today.” 

“Seongnam should mind his own business.” she shot back, shooting him a glare from the corner of her eye. 

“Looking after you is his business.” 

She barked out a laugh, the sound more like a scoff than anything else. “I��m not a fucking child, Yoongi. I don’t need a babysitter to look after me.” 

Yoongi stared her down, his expression less than amused. 

“You do if you don’t take care of yourself.” 

“I got on just fine before you decided to barge in the take over.” she reminded him, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Do you understand how incredibly creepy it is that you have people who watch my every move twenty-four-seven?” She questioned, head tilted slightly to the side. 

“It’s for your own safety, jagiya.” he grumbled, jaw clenched tightly, his fingers tapping a harsh rhythm against the top of the island. 

“Is it for my safety or your comfort?” 

Margot let a spoonful of juk fall back into the bowl, completely uninterested in the meal set before her, her stomach too twisted in knots to really consider eating anything. The throbbing in her skull didn’t help with her appetite either. 

As a teacher, Margot was used to being tired. It was a tiring profession, but there was a bone deep exhaustion hanging about her today that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was the kind of tired that made her want to spend all day curled up in bed until the rest of the world faded away and all the thoughts cluttering her head faded with it. 

The only cure for it was a lazy day, to rot in bed until she was ready to emerge from her cocoon when her bones felt a little less heavy and the world seemed a little easier to face as it came back into focus. While she’d spent the majority of the day sleeping, she wasn’t quite ready to face the reality of the situation. But Yoongi was insistent on making sure her basic physical needs were met even if the meeting of them pulled a little more on the frayed edges of her soul.

With a heavy sigh, Margot stood, pushing herself up using the island as support. “I’m going to bed.” 

Yoongi’s hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist, the pressure firm but not so harsh that it hurt. It was a silent command to stay where she was, to sit back down before he was forced to make her. 

“You need to eat, baby.” She didn’t say anything, staring at him blankly as he searched her face for any sign that she was going to back down of her own free will. “Just a few more bites, baby.” Still she didn’t move. “Please.” 

The last word came out strained, ragged as though his nerves were as ragged as hers. He needed this. He needed to know that she was safe and well cared for, and for the moment the only thing he could do to make that happen was to make sure she ate something.

He’d gotten updates from her security team as the day had gone on. Yeong had been concerned by how little she’d eaten that morning before she’d gone to lie down again. Baek-ah had reported that she’d barely even stirred during his shift let alone eaten anything. She’d been a little more active during Seongnam’s shift, but she’d only had a few bites of an early dinner and some tea before she’d gone back to sleep again. Overall, the sum of what she’d consumed that day was small enough to cause Yoongi concern. Even if she didn’t want to stay and eat, she needed to, and Yoongi was going to make sure she was safe and healthy even if she wasn’t happy about it.  

“Please,” He tried again, forcing his expression to soften even as annoyance ticked at his jaw. “Just a few more bites, Mari. You didn’t eat today.” 

Margot stared at him trying to puzzle out the look in his eye.

 There was the clear layer of exhaustion, the mirror of her own, but there was also a gleam of something else, something frantic and feral clawing at the edges of his being. It was the same emotion that she’d seen the night before as Yoongi had dragged her from her home. It was as wounded as it was feral, as frayed and worn down as she felt. 

She stared for a few moments more, taking in the information she’d just gleaned, trying to figure out the best course of action even as her own body screamed for her to return to the comfort of sleep. She knew what would be best for her, and yet there was a part of her, so entwined with the entirety of her being, that told her to put the needs of others before her own, and somehow, despite everything, that still included Yoongi. 

Slowly, Margot sat back down, keeping a careful eye on Yoongi as she did, watching as the tense set of his shoulders eased as she settled back down in front of the bowl of juk.

“Just a few more bites.” he assured her, seeing the way she eyed the bowl as though it was going to bite her.

“Don’t.” she sighed, her voice having its hard edge. “Don’t talk to me like a child. This situation is demeaning enough as it is.” 

She didn’t want to be cajoled into eating the meal before her. She didn’t want to even think of taking another bite, the very thought of it making her stomach roll unpleasantly. 

“Baby?” Yoongi’s brow furrowed as he watched the color drain from her face. “Baby, are you okay?” 

“I can’t…” she paused, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t think I can eat it.” 

Yoongi’s frown deepened, the knowledge that sometimes when she had a migraine it made her too nauseous to keep anything down coming to the front of his thoughts. 

“Baby?” he reached forward, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Shit.” he cursed under his breath feeling how clammy her skin had gotten, and silently berating himself for not noticing sooner how poorly she actually felt. “I’m sorry, baby. You don’t have to eat it. You can eat something in the morning when you feel better.” he murmured, smoothing some fly-away strands away from her face. “Do you want to go lie down again?” 

Margot nodded, swallowing back the feeling of nausea creeping up her throat. 

“Okay.” Yoongi nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you to bed.” 

Margot grumbled a little as Yoongi once more scooped her up. “I can walk on my own, you know? I’m nauseous, not broken.”

“Let me baby you.” He shushed her, heading towards the bedroom. 

“I’m not a baby, Yoongi. I just don’t feel well. You’re being overbearing.” 

He chuckled a little at that, gazing down at where she rested her head against his shoulder, leaning into his embrace even as she complained about him carrying her. 

“You deserve to be babied, jagi, especially when you don’t feel well.” 

“I can baby myself.” 

“Ah,” he hummed, giving her a soft smile. “But that’s my job, jagiya.” 

“You’re insufferable.” She sighed, a sudden wave of nausea having her tighten her around his shoulders, her whole body tensing.

“Almost there, sweetheart.” he mumbled, tightening his own hold around her. 

Ture to his word, they arrived at the bedroom in just a few moments where Yoongi gently laid her out on the bed. 

“I’m going to grab you some pain meds. Okay, jagi?” 

She didn’t respond, choosing instead to turn onto her side and curling into a ball, wanting nothing more than to be asleep again. 

Yoongi returned swiftly with the promised pain meds and a glass of water for her. 

“Okay, jagi. I need you to sit up for a moment.” She huffed, ignoring his request as she snuggled further into the pillows. “Come on, jagi.” 

Gently, Yoongi helped her to sit up, handing her the pills and the glass of water. 

“You take those. I’m going to go get you some pajamas, sweetheart.” “You know what would make me feel better?” Called after him after swallowing the pills.

“You’re not getting your own room, Mari-ah.” he answered over his shoulder, not even needing to hear the question to know what she wanted. 

Yoongi entered the closet, pleased to see that her things had all seemingly arrived, even if they had yet to be unpacked. Without much care for the mess he was making, Yoongi began to dig through the boxes in search of something she could wear to bed. They needed to unpack, but that could wait until another day. If worse came to worst, he could always have the housekeeper do it as well if his Mari insisted on being stubborn, but she couldn’t live out of boxes forever. 

Her side of the closet would fill up with her own things, everything put into their proper places, and he would add to her side of the closet as well. Margot would be one of the most spoiled women in Seoul if he had anything to say about it. Anything her heart desired would be hers. 

Yoongi managed to find a worn pair of gray sleep shorts before becoming frustrated with digging through the boxes, moving instead to his own side of the closet in search of a shirt for her.

Quickly, Yoongi pulled out a large black t-shirt. Deeming the combination of his shirt and her shorts as adequate enough sleepwear, he made his way back to Margot who was leaning back against the pillows with her eyes closed. 

“I got you some clothes, jagi.” She opened her eyes, gaze flitting to the clothes in his hand and then back to his face, disinterested. 

Yoongi sighed, setting the little pile of clothes on the bed. “I’ll step out so you can change.” 

“Surprisingly gentlemanly for a kidnapper.” 

He quirked a brow, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “I could stay if you want.” 

She froze, her spine straightening. “No. Nope. No thank you. You can go.” She shooed him away as he tried to suppress a laugh.

“Didn’t think so.” 

Yoongi gave her a few minutes to change before he entered the room again. He could have sworn that his heart stopped beating for a moment as he saw her standing there in his shirt.

“This is your shirt.” she accused, voice soft as she watched him enter the room. 

“All of your things are still in boxes, jagi.” he pointed out gently, thinking to himself that it wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t unpack if he got to see her in his clothes more often. 

“Stop that.” she snapped, though her tone didn’t have any real bite to it. 

“Stop what?” 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

Yoongi had to suppress the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as she glared at him. “Looking at you like what, jagiya?”

“All soft and mushy. It’s annoying.” 

Leisurely, Yoongi crossed the room to where she stood glaring at him like a disgruntled cat. She didn’t move as he approached, only watching carefully as he got closer. 

“I can’t be soft with you, jagiya?” he asked, gently sliding a hand through her hair, his hand coming to a rest along her jaw with his thumb brushing a gentle line across her cheek bone. 

“Stop that.” She hissed, stepping away. “We aren’t lovers.” 

“We could be.” 

She paused, seemingly struck speechless by the bold proclamation. 

She spoke after a moment, her voice barely a whisper as she finished mulling over what he’d just said. “No. We couldn’t be.”

part 15

[fairyboygenius]

everywhere, everything

simon “ghost” riley x original female character

a/n: new title how we feeling! laying groundwork mostly, we’ll get into more concrete plot very soon :) also if you requested something from the build-a-hybrid ask game i’m SORRY the brain worms have taken me over those’ll hopefully start coming out soon :) love love love you guys

no warnings :)

fic under the cut i kiss you on the forehead

As expected, Allie met everyone at breakfast the next morning.

She had woken up early, sleep schedule still fucked up by jet lag and the lack of a routine. Her routines took months to build up, but only a couple days of missing one could ruin it. Allie’s regulation was like a Jenga tower, and outside circumstances that disrupt routines always pulled the blocks that caused it to collapse.

But, whatever. At least there was room for her Keurig in her room. And Lola seemed to like the dog bed Laswell had purchased for her.

Allie showed up to the mess hall about five minutes early, sipping her sweet coffee as she leaned against the wall. Her military-issue cargo pants weren’t quite flattering- tight around her apron stomach and hips, loose everywhere else- but they were, functionally, just pants. Besides, her ass looked pretty great.

Still, as she fidgeted, twirling the ends of her braids, unease sat deep in her weary bones. These men, some of the best the SAS had to offer, were going to be her teammates and comrades. She’d patch up their wounds, they’d keep going out and getting hurt. Such was the cycle of an army medic. They’d be grumpy but hopefully grow to respect and tolerate her. She’d long accepted the community she longed for was not often found among war-hardened soldiers.

That didn’t stop her from hoping.

A loud, broguish Scottish accent bouncing off the high ceilings shook her out of her reverie. She looked up, spotting three men heading towards her from the same direction she had come from. These must be her hall mates, and future patients/pains in her ass.

The voice seemed to belong to the one in the middle, his close-cropped mohawk in desperate need of some styling. His blue eyes sparked, and his gait was hyper in a way that convinced Allie fairly quickly that he had ADHD. He’d be fun, she thinks- good for a drink after a stressful mission, or some sleep deprived conversations in a tent in Somalia.

The man on his left was a bit taller, bronzed skin glinting against a plain white T-shirt. He looked up then, smiling at her, and she managed a tired smile back.

As the group approached, her eyes quickly skated over the third member of the group. Taller than them both, black skull balaclava. Black hoodie and jeans. Something sparked in her chest seeing the way his thighs strained against jean fabric, his broad shoulders and big, gloved hands.

Down, girl.

“Hey, you’re our new medic?” The man who had smiled at her was standing right in front of her now. “I’m Kyle. Kyle Garrick, but they call me Gaz.” He gestured to his friends. “Mohawk is Soap, ski mask is Ghost.”

“Gaz, Soap, Ghost.” Allie nodded, pointing at each of them to associate the names with their faces. “I’m sure you’ve already been briefed on me, but I’m Allie. And this-“ Lola sat, as though she knew she was being introduced- “is Lola. She’s my service dog.”

Gaz nodded. “You waiting on breakfast?”

Allie let out a breathy laugh. “Woke up way too early. Fuckin’ jet lag.”

“Ah, tha’s righ’, yer American.” Mohawk-Soap- grinned. “Bit o’ a long trek for ye, then.”

“All this way for little ol’ us,” Gaz said, his voice teasing. “C’mon, the doors should be open. We’ll see what they have. Maybe we can get ya a full English.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I hate baked beans. The texture…” Allie shuddered. “Also, I don’t know what’s in blood sausage, and I’m frankly really scared to ask.”

“Smart lass.” Soap maneuvered to the front of the group, leading them through the line. Because of the jostling, Allie ended up in the back, just in front of Ghost. She turned back, giving him a friendly smile- it seemed like something she should do- and he just nodded back at her.

Not too disappointing, she hadn’t been expecting much more from ski mask guy. Not like he could smile back. But she had at least hoped to catch a glimpse of his eyes crinkling or some other indication.

Christ, she looked good.

Her hair wasn’t just red, as Simon had seen it in that photo- it was a plethora of colors. Copper, scarlet, rust, burgundy. Streaks of blonde framed her face, escaping from those goddamned braids. They caressed her freckled skin- oh, yeah. She had freckles. A line over her nose, dark brown pinpricks like stars against tan skin. Big brown eyes avoided eye contact, lashes framing them delicately. Teeth sunk into her plush bottom lip, examining the food options in the line. Full English, as Gaz had predicted. No blood sausage, but baked beans slopped on red trays, the liquid overflowing and coating the eggs in bean sauce.

Allie politely refused the beans and just got eggs and toast, and the hair on the back of Simon’s neck stood up. She had the slightest Southern accent. It wasn’t blatant, but there was something about the way she drew out her vowels that reminded him of sweet iced tea and wraparound porches. (He didn’t know much about the South.)

She was wearing a black long sleeve, almost skin tight, and the military-issued cargo pants that had no business looking that good on her. It was easy to let his eyes trail over the sway of her hips, the muscles in her thighs flexing under soft flesh, her plush ass. He almost forgot to tell the worker serving food what he wanted.

“Tha’ tea o’ coffee, lass?” he could hear Soap asking from all the way across the mess hall as he walked over and sat down across from her.

Allie took a sip from her travel mug. “Coffee. Milk and two sugars. I’ve never been much of a tea person. It’s just leaf water.”

“And coffee is just bean water.” The words come out of Simon’s mouth before he can stop them. Allie raised an eyebrow at him, a slight smirk on her features.

“Not a fan of bean water, I take it?”

“He’s a proper Brit,” Gaz said. “Only drinks coffee when he’s sleep deprived and we’re out of English Breakfast. What you got against tea?”

Allie shrugged, leaning down to scratch Lola’s head absentmindedly. “Oh, I like it. I just like coffee better, I guess.”

“We all ‘ave our preferences, right, Lt.?” Soap tried to goad him, but Simon just grunted and went back to his breakfast.

“Even if they’re wrong,” he grumbled, and Allie shot him a little smile, eyes glimmering with mirth. She playfully rolled her eyes, sipping from her coffee.

Breakfast was only 45 minutes, but they didn’t have anything scheduled until training at 0930- that’s when they found out Allie had been given a laminated schedule by Laswell last night- so they lingered. Simon learned that Allie’s laugh- or at least the version of it she did around others- sounded like wind chimes, light and musical. His deadened heart fluttered as she caught his eye. She looked away quickly, but that didn’t stop the blush from blooming on his cheeks. Thank fuck they were hidden.

Somehow, they all ended up moving as a unit. Allie was sandwiched between Soap and Gaz, looking a bit caught off guard. She had ended up roped into an argument about… something. Simon wasn’t listening to the specifics. He was more so focused on staring at the way Soap placed a hand on her waist, which Allie quickly moved away. Didn’t make a fuss of it or anything. It was fascinating, really, how she didn’t say anything or act like anything was wrong, yet Johnny still looked a bit like a wounded puppy at the rejection.

“This is where I leave you.” Allie stopped in front of the gym door, extracting herself from the group. “I gotta to the medbay to help out for a bit- apparently, there’s a big group coming back from an intense mission. It was so nice to meet y’all, and I’ll see you at lunch. C’mon, Lola.” She tugged at her service dog’s leash.

Simon had to plant his feet to the ground to stop himself from following.

[scatteredraysofhope]

I think I need to start talking iron pills again. I try my best to eat properly. I really do. But i just never feel like eating at school and I always feel sick to my stomach. I dont know why simply consuming food is so hard for me. It feels painful and laborious. I always like to distract my self from it especially because im a pretty picky eater especially due to sensory and texture issues. It's honestly probably the main cause for my pica. I know my mom's not going to like to hear it. She hates to be burdened with our health problems. And I hate to tell her. But I think I need to :C it gotten to a point were its really bad and I hope it will help..

[sea-lanterns]

Seeing y'all sensitive with certain food texture and compare my ass who eats everything, i just feel like we could be friends.

Growing up my parents always told me to never waste anyfood on plate so i grow up to just accept any food on the plate.

Something you don't want to eat? Alright put it aside i will put it on my plate?

You don't like carrots? Or any veggies? That's okay, i can eat it.

The food texture is too soft and it is a waste to throw it? Just give it to me.

I am the cleaning departement/janitor of the unwanted food.

Oh please, please be my friend 🥺

I hate seeing wasted food and I feel so guilty because I wanna finish it, but my stomach is like the size of a peanut and won’t let me. It’s always been an issue growing up because serving sizes are almost always too big for me and I can’t finish it all/it contains something I cannot eat or digest.

In return for helping me not waste food, I give you…uh. I give you headpat. Pls accept currency in the form of headpats and fish food (thirsts and fics)

[ominous-feychild]

OC Facts Tag

Thank you for the tag, @honeybewrites!

Rules: Make a list of fun facts about your OCs. Like a headcanon list, if you will! Except it's actually canon lol.

Characters from Sun and Shadow: Freya, Crow, Daleira, Faer

Freya:

Knows a lot about sailing, but has mostly worked on ships by herself. Is she self-taught? Well, kinda--it's because of her dad basically being a god of the ocean. It's literally in her blood, and she's blessed to have good luck on the ocean. Not that it helps her if "luck" doesn't come into play...

Has mostly figured out how to translate three different forgotten languages by using only her own intelligence and libraries

Has anger issues but thinks of herself as a very calm person

Has a lot of nightmares, but remembers very few of them. Doesn't have very many good night's rests

For some reason, half of what she thinks and knows of her past contradict each other...

Sleeps curled up in a ball; likes cuddling with stuffed animals but left it at home when going to Lynsmouth because she thought her fiancé would judge her for it. Joke's on her, it's a fiancée, and she has way more than just one!

Would forgive her dad for his neglect if he just gave a sincere apology, a hug, and spent at least a few months with her every year

Hates standing out

Was previously in a toxic relationship with a man who groomed her. It caused a lot of her modern-day issues. Her dad is not aware of this, and she hopes to keep it that way.

Crow:

Both hates and loves the smell of blood

Forgot how to cry years ago

Is a fantastic actor and liar; thinks their lies are terrible and obvious, but is able to fool even some of the people best at reading body-language

Knows how to fight with two different types of weapons. Also knows hand-to-hand combat--that, and using a simple dagger, are what they're best at

Always has a knife/dagger within reach, but it's usually hidden behind one of their wings or their tail feathers

Their humor is, in reality, an act they put on to make people underestimate them. They are hyper-alert and constantly on guard

Is most comfortable sleeping on top of something spherical; likes wrapping their arms--and so their wings with them--around it, resting their cheek over their shoulder/wing, and splaying their legs out

However, is used to sleeping in terrible conditions. Just always needs to sleep on their stomach; it's painful to lay on their wings

Daleira:

Is almost certainly ADHD and is probably on the spectrum; I'd have to write more of her before I say the last part for sure, though

Doesn't have very many friends and is aware of it; most of the people in her life are either humoring her because they're afraid of her or because they want political power

Her obsession with magic originated from her trying to figure out if she could change what she is--aka, stop being a faerie and turn human

She's terrified of her own magic and refuses to use it. Most of the magic she uses in-story is during moments of panic (ie, used on reflex) or through a conduit

If she ever managed to "turn human", would cry for weeks about no longer being able to shapeshift. Her ability to shapeshift is one of the few things she likes about being a faerie

Has never been in a relationship before

Doesn't like to sleep because she's afraid of what her magic will do while she's unconscious. Lucky(?) her, she can literally make it so she doesn't have to sleep

Wishes she had a sibling or other people to relate to

Loves sweet food; lucky her, she won't ever gain weight unless she wants to

Faer:

Figured out engineering over time from reverse-engineering half-destroyed machinery

Likes cooking and sees it as very similar to engineering

He loves his hair and would cry if he had to cut it. Has not cut it once in over 5 years, not even to trim it.

Loves soft textures and wears an oversized cloak to hide his constant fidgeting, to generally keep his actions hidden, and to be able to pet it

The more I write about him, the more certain I am that I accidentally made ANOTHER goddamn autistic character istg--

Although he claims the cyborg bobcat that follows him everywhere is his familiar, it is not. It is an actual bobcat. They bonded over a series of incidents of saving each other's lives and refuse to part from each other

Refuses to set foot in a forest until his life depends on it. Thankfully, now lives in a city.

The giant scar over his face is far from the only one he has.

Has PTSD and is constantly aware of his surroundings

Met Daleira when she saved him, but actually likes her as a friend and person

Is suspicious of Valyarus, but doesn't know how to tell Daleira that her dad gives him major creep vibes

"Faer" (pronounced "fair") is not actually his name

Tagging (with no pressure): @the-letterbox-archives @the-golden-comet @yourpenpaldee @darkandstormydolls @themboty + anyone else who wants to join!

Divider by @cafekitsune