#its been making it so much easier to make sauce!

[ailelie]

The Wolf now is Concerned. He isn't invested. He refuses to be invested in humans. Humans are food, not friends.

And yet. This utter sad sack needs help and Hairy McLumberjack is too busy fussing around with trees to do more than look in and tut occasionally.

And, it isn't like the Wolf can roam much. He had a serious surgery to get Steven out of his stomach. He needs recovery time.

It only makes sense that he recovers at Steve's. It's all Steve's fault anyway, if you think about it.

Steve is still mourning his relationship with Denise and dealing with his recent near-death experience. The latter would be easier if the cause of said-near-death experience hadn't decided to take over Steve's bed.

The Wolf is a demanding and infuriating roommate, but the more time they spend on bickering, the less time Steve has to feel sorry for himself. He ends up developing a new passion for cooking out of pure spite--he will prove to the Wolf that there are many better options for eating than 'raw human.'

"So raw my heart was literally still beating, Wolf."

"The better to warm my stomach, Steve."

It is when Little Red is visiting again, more than a week after the Wolf last felt a twinge of pain in his torso, that everything changes again.

"Mama said to invite you to dinner, Uncle Steve," Little Red says. "You can come, too, Uncle Wolf."

Steve and the Wolf meet each other's horrified gaze as they both realize the domestic comfort they've found and created in each other.

That night, long after Little Red has returned home, the Wolf says he's leaving and he goes.

For the first time in weeks, Steve doesn't have to share his bed.

(After the first few nights when the Wolf had claimed his bed, Steve decided he was not going to be forced to the couch again. They each dared the other to leave the bed if they were 'too uncomfortable' to share. Neither left. Neither ever admitted, in the weeks that followed, how nice it was to have someone else there.)

He can't sleep.

In the morning, he eats some berries for breakfast. Lunch is a leftover soup. Dinner is more of the same.

Cooking is less fun on his own, less fun when he doesn't have the Wolf stealing his ingredients and making sly comments from the side.

Meanwhile, the Wolf is in the forest and utterly refusing to admit that his rabbit is a bit gamey, that its flesh would be better shredded with a spicy sauce and served over whipped potatoes. He is a Wolf. He doesn't need cooked food. He doesn't want it.

The flesh and blood are warm in his mouth, but they do not heat his belly like one of Steve's stews. The forest is so unreasonably cold.

And lonely.

"He tried to eat me, Laura," Steve complains to his sister, Little Red's mother.

"From what I understand, he successfully ate you. That lumberjack cut you free, no?"

"The lumberjack! Now, he would make sense. He's handsome, right? Saved my life even. If I had to-- why couldn't I have--" the words won't come out. Steve's never been attracted to anyone male before.

Until the Wolf.

His face flushes bright red and his sister sighs. "You could do worse than that Wolf, Steve."

He buries his face in his hands.

The Wolf goes by the cabin when he knows Steve will be in town, attending the dinner Little Red had invited them to, the dinner that ruined everything.

The ice box has no ice and the plants inside are limp and shriveled. A stew pot, crusted with the dried remnants of broth, sits on the stove. Another pot is half-full with congealed oatmeal.

The Wolf refuses to feel guilty. He is a wild creature. He is not meant to live within four walls like some domesticated dog.

He washes the pots and tosses the ruined vegetables and herbs. It is during this last task that he runs into the lumberjack.

"Glad to see you're back" the Lumberjack says. "He's been missing you."

I'm not back, the Wolf wants to snarl, and, What business is it of yours? Instead, he says, "I don't belong here."

The lumberjack shrugs. "Well, I don't know about that. I think we belong wherever we love and are loved."

"So, what, you're having a love affair with a hundred trees? Do you chop them down after you break-up?" It isn't his best line, but the lumberjack laughs anyway.

"My love was turned into a tree and hidden in this wood. Someday I will find and free him from his curse. Until then, my job gives me more than enough time to search."

"So you're saying it could be worse," the Wolf says. "I could be in love with a tree."

The lumberjack's smile broadens and he nods. "Instead you're only in love with a man."

It is only then that the Wolf realizes what he'd said. The truth of it warms him inside out. "I'm going to go back inside."

He doesn't say he's going to stay. That's what he means anyways.

The next morning, carrying a basket of leftovers, Steve returns to his cabin. He is dreading being alone again, but he cannot live in his sister's house.

He wants the Wolf. He doesn't understand how or why the Wolf has become so important to him, but maybe that doesn't matter. He just wants that strange and frustrating beast back in his kitchen, his bedroom, his life.

He has decided to track down the Wolf just as he's opening his cabin door.

And the Wolf is there.

Glass shatters as the basket falls from his hand. The Wolf's coat is warm and musky under his hands and cheek. His snout presses cool against Steve's neck. His claws prick lightly along his back. Steve can barely think for the utter relief flooding through him.

"I'm back," the Wolf says, unnecessarily. He is holding Steve as tightly as Steve is holding him.

Neither can quite feel embarrassed by their reactions to one another given the other is reacting quite the same.

"Good," Steve says. "Stay."

"Wild creatures don't belong indoors," the Wolf warns. He wants to stay, but some fear lingers. He can only promise now, not forever.

Steve, though, is unconcerned. He steps back, looking his Wolf in the eye. He lifts a hand to his Wolf's maw and traces a thumb along the seam of his mouth, the same mouth and sharp teeth that had once devoured him. "Since when," he asks, "have you cared about arbitrary rules?"

The Wolf flicks his tongue against Steve's thumb. "Since when, indeed."

inspiration struck in a really, really weird way

[gargelyfloof118]

So far, I have successfully canned 23 jars of tomato sauce this season!!

I actually feel on top of it for once!

[ferrarrigirl]

Traditions Don’t Make it Easier

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: just a fluff filled blurb came to mind about Lando having to leave for a triple header

“Can you grab the blankets too,” you yelled to Lando as he went to grab the wine, hoping he heard. You continue cooking the sauce and stirring the boiling pasta when you feel two hands snake around your waist and curly locks brush your ear. He settles his head on your shoulder and turns to kiss your cheek, “Got them. Anything else I can help with babe?”.

“Hmm” you lean back into his touch, letting yourself enjoy his warmth for a few minutes. “Alright, as much as I love the cuddles, could you set the table?”

“Ofcourse baby,” He pops another kiss to your cheek and gets to work. You strain the pasta, mix it in with the creamy tomato sauce and get it plated. You put the finishing touches to the salad and grabbed the garlic bread out the oven.

“Everything looks amazing omg” Lando’s eyes lit up seeing everything done. “It does, doesn’t it,” you do a little hand clap, excited that you both didn’t burn the house down this time. You each grab the bowls and move it to the patio.

“Aw Lan, it looks beautiful, thank you,” you settle into your seat while admiring the table beautifully set with lit candles and flowers. He leans down placing a kiss to the top of your head, “It’s the least I could do love.” You both start working through the meal while talking about what the next month is going to look like. “I’m excited for the triple header, the car’s been really good and I know it’ll work well at COTA but it’ll be exciting to see how we do in Mexico and Brazil.”

You admire the way he talks, sounds so much happier compared to the start of the year. “I’m excited for you babe, I’ll be cheering you on from here,” You give him a soft smile. Because you really are, It been 4 long years without getting the results he deserved, and now is his moment to shine. You just wish you could be there with him. He notices the slight tears in your eyes and reaches for your hand, “I know baby, thank you, and anytime anything changes, you tell me and I’m getting you on the next flight out.” You laugh at his cheeky ways, and he sends you his signature smirk while giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, “Now tell me what your gonna be up to while I’m gone.”

“Ugh Lan I don’t want to think about that right now”.

“Cmon babe I can feel the stress oozing out of you and you know you’ll feel better.”

“Fine,” you playfully roll your eyes, “just gonna have school 4 days of the week, I have 2 midterms and 3 assignments due all within the same week, and a group project the week after. Such a fun few weeks ahead,” you give him a sarcastic smile.

‘Well you’ve already been working on the assignments right and you’ll have a few days to finish those up, and then you can just focus on exams.”

You look up from your food with raised eyebrows and point your fork at him, “You actually listen”

He snorts at your comment, “I have to listen so I can talk you down when your stressed.” You giggle back, knowing he’s 100% right. You both finish up your meals, making more small talk and just enjoying each other’s presence.

You bring your dishes in, and while Lando gets the movie picked, you grab the wine bottle and glasses and bring it over to him. He lifts the blankets, “C’mere” and you jump into his lap making an “Umph” leave his mouth, followed by a laugh. You cuddle into his chest, squeezing your arms around him and try focusing on the TV.

You just can’t help your brain go to how tough the next few weeks are going to be. You should be used to him going by now and yeah you get to go along for some races. You even just had summer break and took time off school to be with him the whole time. But the more its getting into the year its harder to see him leave. And this is why you started this tradition. Dinner drinks movie night and cuddles. The day before he goes is saved just for you two, to be with each other but it doesn’t make it any easier. You feel your eyes tearing again and start blinking them away rapidly. It will just make him feel bad and you want to be supportive. But before you can get away with it, he feels your fluttering lashes on his chest. Taking your chin into his thumb and forefinger he pulls your chin up to get a good look of your red eyes, and his gaze softens. “Hey hey hey what’s going on?”

That set you off, the way he held your chin and looked deep in your eyes, it was too much. You turn in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck squeezing him tight. You push your face into the crook of his shoulder and just let the tears fall, release everything you’ve been holding in. He knows you just need a minute so he rubs your back up and down, whispering sweet sayings into your ear. Once he notices no more tearing falling onto his shoulder, he slowly speaks up, “Baby please talk to me.”

You slowly push yourself away from your hiding spot, and see the concern in his eyes. He moves one hand to cup your cheek, using his thumb to clear your tears. “I know its never easy when I go but you’re never this emotional love, is there something going on?”

“It’s just hard Lan. I- I want to be there to support you. I wanna be there cheering for you.” You take a deep breath and he lets you take your time, still rubbing your back. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the word vomit you feel coming.

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to be here alone, I’m gonna be so stressed these next weeks and I won’t have you here and I can’t tell you because then you feel bad and you shouldn’t feel bad because its your job and passion. And I should be there for you, supporting you and cheering for you and I’m not.” All of this brings the tears back and you lean forward again into the comfort of his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you holding you close, taken aback by everything you said, he takes a second before replying.

“Oh bub, you can always tell me what’s going on. I’m here for you, I won’t feel bad and you shouldn’t either for wanting me here.” He pulls you back again, placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know it’ll be hard but it’ll go by quick. You’ll be busy with school, and you’ll do great because won’t have me here to distract you.”

“But I like when you distract me,” you quickly cut him off.

“I know baby, I know. How about you come with me this week? And for Brazil week.”

You shake your head, “It won’t work.”

“It can. I’m leaving a week earlier for COTA so I’ll be busy with media in the day. You can stay in the hotel, and do what you need to do. You can leave Sunday in time for school, and then be back for Brazil.”

“But what about my group project?”

“You can call them to discuss, you don’t need to be there that week.”

You bite your lip, contemplating all this he dropped on you. “You need a minute to think about it, don’t you?” You give him a weak smile and nod. “Well we got all night, get comfy again,” he pops another kiss to the top of your head.

You cuddle into his chest again, watching the movie and running his idea over in your head. It could work you thought, the flying might be annoying but it would be worth it. You wear yourself out weighing up the pros and cons and feel your eyes getting heavy. You snuggle into Lando more. He gets the hint and picks you up, leading you to bed. He plops you under the covers and tries to let go to go to the washroom but you tighten your grip around him. “Lan.”

“Yes bub”

“I’ll come with you.”

You see his face light up through your sleepy eyes, and you see him lean down to place a soft sweet kiss on your lips. Followed by a few kisses all over your face. “I can’t wait to have you there with me, it’ll be perfect. Now go to sleep, I’ll come join you in a few mins.” And that was all you needed to drift into a deep sleep.

He heads out to the kitchen, does the dishes, packs the leftovers, cleans up the couch space and patio. He rolls your suitcase from the guest room to yours and packs the essentials he knows you like to take, leaving the clothes for you to decide tomorrow. Stripping off his shirt into the laundry hamper, he gets into bed, pulls you close into him and falls asleep holding you, with a wide smile on his face, knowing he will get to do this for a few more days while you come with him.

[kcrossvine-art]

hi birds of paradise and of prey! I sincerely hope your 2024 has been kind to you so far, and if it hasn't, I hope it starts being fucking nicer soon. We got eyes on it and are ready to take it out should it fail.

I'm coming to the end of my list here soon, so if anyone has ideas on what they'd like to see next, please do hit me up! Even if its just a piece of media with interesting food in it and not a specific dish you wanna see. My roommate got me a recipe book from that TikTok fantasy tavern guy, "recipes from the lucky gryphon"? So we could also take a shot at a few of those, although im not really familiar with his work. Regardless-

We will be making Stuffed Cabbage from Lord of the Rings Online today!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to this Stuffed Cabbage?” YOU MIGHT ASKYou cant kinda put whatever you want for seasonings and even the meat filling. I used ground beef but pork and lamb are also stellar candidates.

Yellow onion

Garlic

2 eggs

Ground beef

Rice

A head of cabbage

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Crushed tomato

Tomato sauce

AND, “what does this Stuffed Cabbage taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKBa bawsa

Very, very filling wow

2 rolls filled me up for a meal and i made about 20-ish from one head of cabage

A bit plain tbh, the texture is great but I'd really double up on the seasonings

A blank canvas for you to impart your spice preferences onto

Reheating makes it taste almost identical to fresh

Would pair well with a hot sauce dip

could also go well with an artichoke dip

If you run out of room and need to layer the rolls, I'd try experimenting with pouring some of the crushed tomato and sauce inbetween the stacked rolls. Otherwise the ones at the bottom lack a lot of the tomato flavor. However it might make the bottoms on the rolls laying ontop soggy?

. Where rice called for, used long grain white rice

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I've never blanched anything before. Theres not much western food that calls for it, meanwhile whenever my friend from malaysia shows a dish they ate, 9 times out of 10 the vegetables are blanched. Much easier process than the fancy name might suggest- boil water and dunk the thing in until its done. Whatever 'done' may be for the thing you are cooking.

Also for the ground beef (or whichever meat you use) you don't have to cook it beforehand, but in doing two tries at making these cabbage rolls i would recommend you at least season your meat before mixing it with everything else. The meat will cook to a safe temperature inside the cabbage rolls, i just prefer the taste and texture of it when cooked twice.

I give this recipe a meandering 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) I want to review more horrible recipes, truly i do, so that the rating scale isnt always a 6 and above, but whenever i try something horrible its like "why the fuck would i put all the effort into making and sharing a review of this thing i Do Not Want others to eat????" yknow?? Would people be interested in roasting horrible recipes? 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

1 yellow onion

6 cloves of garlic

2 eggs

2 lbs ground beef

1 1/2 cup cooked rice

1 large head of cabbage

28oz crushed tomato

14oz tomato sauce

Oregano

Thyme

Red pepper flakes

Cumin

Salt/pepper

Method:

Saute garlic and onion in butter over medium heat until onions are caramelized. When done, remove from heat and let cool.

Season the beef to your liking with cumin, red pepper, and salt. Very, very lightly cook the beef in the same pan used for the garlic and onions. Cook until it starts to brown, but dont let it darken. 

Beat eggs thoroughly with oregano, thyme, salt, and pepper.

Add all of the above ingredients together in a bowl with (cooked!) rice. Mix thoroughly then cover and let rest in the fridge.

Core and blanche your cabbage in boiling water, peeling them off as they become limp.

Once you've separated all the leaves, cut off any thick stems that would prevent the leaf from folding.

Put roughly 2 tablespoons of meat filling into each leaf. Fold the sides of the leaf inwards and roll it up. Place each cabbage roll seam-down into a casserole dish.

If they don't all fit in one layer, its more than okay to stack. Try not to stack more than 2 layers though.

Once you've used all the cabbage, take your can of tomatos and pour them over the rolls. Mix some oregano into the tomato sauce and pour that over the rolls as well.

Bake uncovered in the oven at 350 for about 2 hours. Dont worry if a bit of tomato on top looks burnt.

IF REHEATING LEFTOVERS: Bake 10 cabbage rolls in the oven at 320 for about 40 minutes. Reduce time for less rolls.

[snaccpopstudios]

Long time, no see, Tumblr!

Hello Everyone! It’s been a while, and we’re so sorry about the silence on our blog! But we have some big, important updates to share with you all. The entire team has been extremely busy with both personal, real-life responsibilities and with game production! On top of this, we have also had a big change in management and production, so we’ve been getting a handle on that at the same time.

I’ll start this by stating that I’m Tobias (he/him), the new social media and community manager, and I’ll be bringing this update to you all! And, all Patreon links provided (minus the ones near the end) are public posts, so you don’t need to be subscribed to a tier to view them, but you still need to be 18+! Now, this goes a bit back, so get a warm drink and get comfy to read this big post because if you haven’t been on the Twitter or Patreon, you’ve missed quite a lot (which is on us entirely! We’re sorry again!) In September 2023, we released a few screenshots on our Patreon showing off some script revisions for the demo of “Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.” (read them + the update more in detail here!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sunny-day-jack-90099502) As stated in that post, “A lot of grammatical errors, run-on sentences, etc.. are also being combed out in favor of: - Content that foreshadows future events in the game - Content that is easier to read - And content that more clearly portrays the rules, lore, and restrictions of the supernatural/horror elements in this world

Additionally, more content in general, will be added. Not a substantial amount, but enough to flesh out scenes and make things make more sense now that the world/game has been almost completely outlined.” This post was met with a lot of confusion, as SDJ fans mentioned that they feared the game was being toned down from its original concept. And while our re-writes do actively remove dialogue that unintentionally may be perceived as dubious consent or pressuring the player into sexual/romantic choices, there are no intentions to remove yandere/horror content! We cleared this all up in another Patreon post; a small QnA (here’s that one, again, more in detail!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-yandere-is-to-91034309). 

You may be saying “But Tobias! On the Kickstarter, it said there was soft, dubious consent!” And yes, that is true. However, as stated in the 2nd link provided, Our publisher at the time, Project Enso, originally put that warning up. Sauce (they/them) was not happy with that, but PE properly explained that people who were uncomfortable with the infamous "No Route" hadn't had that warning, and thus felt surprised.

This twitter post was the beginning of Sauce’s quest to remove that warning. (https://x.com/SunnyDayJack/status/1560782320533118976?s=20)

[Disclaimer: PE had nothing to do with the writing of the content. They just had to do what was safest!]

Now, you may have noticed that at the beginning of this post, I mentioned a big change in management. In a post made on Patreon in late October 2023, we got introduced to our new Director, Biscuit (she/her)! She’s previously made devlogs on the Patreon, but she’s since been made the Head of Operations for SnaccPop! These are big and important posts, so I really recommend reading them (as well as the previous posts I’ve linked) in their entirety on the Patreon! - Status Update: New leadership, steps moving forward, future of SnaccPop: https://www.patreon.com/posts/status-update-of-91558879 - Q&A: Project Enso departure, AphroDesia, Deadlines and more: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-project-enso-91850042

But the main points of these two posts above are, 

Sauce will no longer be taking a management role at SnaccPop anymore. Instead, they will take a much necessary backstep to focus solely on creating art and supporting the studio through their continuous work.

The studio has Biscuit as its front-facing figure, but she will be helped out by Perrie (she/her, our current Voice Acting director), Nana (she/her, our current Art director), and other individuals who are key to keeping the content going smoothly at a decent pace. 

SWWSDJ is no longer being released as a full game in November 2024, and is now having Episodic Releases! (Acts 1, 2, 3, and 4)

The Patreon rewards will remain entirely the same. Sauce, as it has been said before, will keep working with us all the way!

Some of you may be wondering what happened with Project Enso and why we parted ways with them, you can read their parting message here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/official-from-92484578

We want to say thank you to Project Enso for all the great work they did for us, however, we believe this decision is the best next step forward to make Sunny Day Jack as best of a game as it can be.

Now, onto some fun stuff! Speed round!

An AphroDesia Game?! The customer is always right! But that doesn't mean that they're necessarily pleasant to deal with…   Available to our $10+ Patreon supporters, you can play a demo of the upcoming mini dating-sim featuring our beloved cutie-pie, TMon, called “ConciUrges.” Featuring 4 endings, two of which are NSFW!

Bachelor of the Month is back! We’re introducing our new icy, and first plus-sized bachelor for the month of December, Jacob Frost (who’s voice has yet to be revealed, but his look has been!) He’s draped out in front of a cozy fireplace, waiting for you to get to know him for $5+~

Another SDJ Demo? You betcha! We understand that there's been lots and lots of content for Sunny Day Jack, and that includes multiple demos that we've released in the past. However, we want to release one last demo. One that includes our new artstyle and script changes that reflect our ideology much more clearly so there aren't any doubts as we move into the future. The release date is TBD!

WE'RE HIRING!! Are you an 18+ NSFW writer and/or an audio engineer? Then you're the person(s) for us! Apply for the position(s) on the Patreon post or the Twitter post!  THE POSISTION IS ONLY FOR THOSE 18+. PROOF OF AGE WILL BE REQUIRED.

Project: DramaBoy As stated in the above linked posts in #5 (more in detail on the Patreon link!) We’re starting up a new project, Project: DramaBoy! As an explanation to non-paying patrons who may have missed our upload of our first teaser (Impish BF Surprises You on Christmas),  we'll be looking to release (hopefully) weekly NSFW and SFW POV Boyfriend audios! Sometimes they'll include characters you know and love-- such as Jambee or Sunny Day Jack. However-- sometimes, they'll include interesting beta concepts voiced by the same VAs from our mainstay projects! Read all about it and see the SLIVER of the list of BFs we’re planning to bring you at https://www.patreon.com/posts/project-dramaboy-94652067 (available to read for free!)

That's all for this update! We know it's lengthy and long overdue, so thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to read! ^_^

[knyontop]

You should totally write like..a zombie reader...x toga... for me because your writing is so awesome sauce😈🔥

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

OMG ANYTHING FOR YOU!! Btw I decided to make this yandere just bc i felt like it;3

Tw: possessive behavior, yandere stuff, force feeding, knifes, Toga cutting reader, talks of murder snd stuff.

Ft: Toga Himiko, Dabi, Shigaraki Tomura, Bakugou Katsuki, and our amazing, handsome, beautiful, reader.

Toga:

・When she first saw you she was in such awe.

・LIKE YOUR SO CUTE OMG YOUR THE FIRST ZOMBIE SHES EVER SEEN!!?

・when she first lays eyes on you she KNOWS that she needed to have you.

・she couldn’t wait to see you all covered in blood! Your cute but you would be cuter with a few cuts and scraps~

・Toga makes sure to get some of your blood, Tomura would be happy to have a zombies blood!

・unfortunately, they aren’t here for you there here for Bakugou but before she left she blew you a little kiss before leaving. You were confused to say the least.. (but also flattered)

・ever sense the training camp you’ve been getting weird love notes by your “secret admirer, Toga” she put her name?? I thought it was supposed to be secret??? Whatever😭

・Toga is genuinely soooooooo so so so in love with you.

・your face, your eyes, your body, the way her knife cuts perfectly into your sensitive green skin. She just cant get enough of you she just wants to gobble you up!! (Pun intended)

・the league is getting tired of all her rants about how much she loves you🙁 (hang in there dabi)

・she wants you, no she needs you to be with her forever! And she will have you all to herself. Soon.

・she has to beg Shigaraki to let her kidnap you, he thinks its way to risky! Which is it but hey, you only live once so come help her break into a high school full of kids and heros and kidnap one of the students there! It should be easy enough right? Yeah, yeah they will be fineeeeee..

・you woke up🙁

・Dabi put a heated hand over your mouth, it wasn’t hot enough to burn you just to warn ya that hes willing to kill you right here right now. (BITE HIS FINGERS OFFSIBSUHIBDIYUG)

・him and Toga were able to get you knocked out so it would be easier to bring you back to base~ she was giggling and blushing the wholeeeeeeee wayyyyyyyyyy

・once you wake up, your tied to a chair in a rusty abbandened building with Toga in your lap cooing at you and caressing your face.

・Toga has her knife right at your throat and everything in her wants to push it through and watch your blood drip down your gorgeous body.. but, you would die and Toga would never forgive herself for that soooooooooo just little cuts! (For now)

・sense your a zombie she thinks that you can only eat and drink peoples blood so she tries to make you drink hers, you two would be apart of each other! Isn’t that so romantic!? (She will force you to drink her blood)

・she rants to you about everything, food, missions, life problems, just everything. She acts like she didn’t kidnap you!

・she forces you to say I love you back. (You almost died from blood loss the last time you refused.)

・”Awh your such a cute little zombie!! I just want to cut you alllllllll up!”

・Toga is not the best yandere to be with so i wish you guys good luck, your going to need it.

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

This was fun :3

[dairy-farmer]

Titans always liked to party. Even when everyone started their own lives, barely seeing each other, they always found time to throw a party once in awhile.

This party was the biggest one yet. After one of the massive threats to the universe was dealt with, some of the JL members stayed, almost all of the Titans and even the Outlaws. Dancing, games, chatting... After a few hours, there were only a small group left: bachelors, who wanted to get drunk. Hal didn't really care about an age gap, everyone left were adults. Dick was always game. Roy wanted Jason to let loose, so they both stayed.

At some point they started playing Truth or Dare, but they figured out fast that they were too drunk for any action, that's why only truth was left on the table. Questions soon turned into only sex relating. The most adventurous time. Just the best fuck. Best blowjob. Until one of them mentioned Tim's name. That's when they figured out, that all of them had sex with Tim and that all the best times they were talking about were with him.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yesss!!! they're all heavily buzzed and are slurring their speeches, too drunk to even think of getting up from where they're sprawled over the floor on cushions, couches, and assorted arm chairs. there are occasional bursts of giggles, some rolled eyes from hal and jason over the other two giggling like school girls over something. but its not like any of them have anywhere to be. no girlfriends, wives, or children expecting them home. and also being drunk and alone is sort of pathetic so at least together they're socializing and having a nice time while occasionally forcing one another to do humiliating shit until it's late and they're tired and have decided to just keep getting 'truth' out of each other while they wind down from the party and enjoy the company of each other and pretend they're not nearly as drunk as they feel.

dick is failing at it the worst and is nursing a trashcan in his lap while seated criss cross apple sauce on the floor. hal has managed to claim the entire length of the couch and has his head rested on one arm rest and ankles crossed on the other. roy is slouched with his elbows on his knees on a chair and drinking a slowly melting slurpy because he'd volunteered for a 7/11 run. jason has an icepack over his eyes and a can of ginger ale in one hand and pretending they're not all there while he...batmeditates the drunkness away.

things are civil and friendly, occasionally they all share a laugh at someone else's expense while plying truths out of each other. there's an unspoken brotherhood in bachelorhood that makes being open and honest while wasted so much easier and so much more...freeing. they don't have to worry about judgement, about hurting someone's feelings. when among kin you can finally admit that sure that girl you dated on and off for years kind of sucked at giving head and that the best blowjob of your life was at an executive's christmas party while out on the terrace of some hotel.

roy sighs about the sweetest tits he'd ever seen being on someone he had no business hooking up with.

hal commiserates with him admitting that despite his playboy ways, the best fuck of his life had been this barely legal little thing that he'd been waiting to get his hands on since they were sixteen and that hal also would have risked losing his balls if anyone in the league ever found out about it.

jason, from under his icepack, grunts out about how his sweet little pocket pussy had let him put the mouth of his fully loaded favorite gun into his fucked out little hole that was dripping with jason's mess.

hal gives an impressed whistle and jason lets out an, honest to god, wistful sigh about how he should've put a fucking ring on it.

they all give a shared shudder at that though. if there's one thing they all understand its that none of them are...husband material.

still that doesn't mean there aren't...longings for the position and its associated benefits.

dick gives a miserable groan into his trashcan and a wet gag where nothing comes up before miserably sniffling and asking them if they thought that tim would mind dick sabotaging his birth control so he'd have dick's baby so dick could have his not so secret desire to be a daddy to more than just the goldfish in his apartment.

and it's the mention of tim that sends them all back into their drunken reminiscing and bragging about conquests and the mental all stars roster they each have regarding their hookups.

of which tim seems to be the mvp of.

it's not shocking, not to them. if others had been in the room they probably would've been surprised that the most prude robin actually wasn't all that chaste. but they all knew exactly what tim did in his spare time (them). the only part that's surprising is finding out that they all have become intimately familiar the hot tight little cunt that milked their cocks like it was handmade by god to do it.

it's not long until that's all they're talking about.

hal closing his eyes and moaning about how cute and pink tim's tits were when they bounced as he rode him. jason about how tim was so obedient, letting him bend him all sorts of ways and positions and being such a champ and letting jason keep going even when he was passing out from exhaustion. dick is fully laid on the floor and mumbling about how nice and cold the hardwood is while talking about how tim's mouth always looked so cute stretched around his cock-that he didn't even have a gag reflex. roy is shamelessly hard on his chair and talking about how its a shame tim doesn't cross paths with him more often that roy would've loved a repeat, that jason and dick were fortunate to share a home with tim.

"i bet you've gotten some great pics" roy sighs.

and that's when the other three freeze for a moment because...pics?

and that's when roy shows them his phone where tim has sent roy pictures!!!! of tim's little hands cupping a tit in his bathroom mirror, of tim's finger pressed into his dripping baby cunt.

and hal has to fumble for the short 30 second clip in his phone of him slamming into tim and grunting as he cums as deep as he can get. jason claims tim has left countless pairs of panties in his apartment and that tim didn't let him record them fucking because he thought jason would shove it in bruce's face whenever he was angry at him (which jason absolutely would do) and dick whines about how his baby timmy never sends dick that kind of stuff!!! but would he? if dick asked would tim send him naked pictures of him in bed??

it goes without saying that tim is their favorite, the one they have the most fond memories of, the one that was their most memorable experience.

but that doesn't mean they don't all feel a bit competitive when they all text him to see who he'll respond to first.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying I don't give a shit about calorie counts?

Before I even start this, I'm going to say - if you actively have an eating disorder, please don't vote on this one. I used to have one and I know how badly ED screws with your reasoning regarding weight and food, even with other people. Onto the dilemma.

I (22M) and my friend (31F) are both on "diets" - in quotes because its a lifestyle change, but idk about her. I've drastically changed my diet, exercise, and general lifestyle for health reasons.

My friend also wanted to start dieting at the same time, and as far as I know, she just wants to lose weight. She has a healthy weight goal in mind and her methods of losing weight are healthy, basically the same as me - better foods and more exercise. Recently we talked about our goals because we both lost several pounds, and she asked me what my goal weight was. I told her I didn't have one, I might later but right now my only focus is making sure my body is in good health. She seemed to agree and the conversation moved on.

Another thing is, I recently learned that I LOVE to cook. I've been adding more veggies and spices into my diet as well - swapping french fries with marinated air-fried carrots, veggie dumplings, shredding cabbage for noodles, making my own stir fry sauce and blends, etc.

I cook for us sometimes, because I often make more than I need and I want to share my cooking with others. But she keeps asking my how many calories are in stuff. I tell her what's in the recipe and how it's made, but I honestly have no clue how many calories are in anything I make. I can tell her pretty much anything else, like it's rich in whatever vitamin, it's low cholesterol, it's a great source of iron, I used healthier alternative instead of whatever... but that's not the info she's looking for. And since a lot of my cooking is experimental, I can't look it up online. I've never noticed this to be an issue before, but I'm a bit clueless so it's possible she showed signs of being bothered by this and I just didn't notice.

It all came to a head the other day when we had dinner after our usual workout. I was charting the exercises I did that day. She asked me if I was tracking calories for the meal and started talking about her calorie tracker app. I listened to her spiel about empty calories and tracking food. When she asked if I was going to downloaded it, I laughed and said "I don't give two shits about counting calories. As long as the food is good for me I don't care." I said it light-hearted and joking bc I don't want her to think it's bad to count calories - it's just not what I'm going to do. But she got quiet and later texted me that it hurts. I explained that she can count calories if she wants, and I don't care if she does or doesn't, but it's not for me. She doesn't know about my eating disorder history and I'd rather not tell her, since that's another reason I don't count calories - I don't want to fall back on starving myself since I KNOW that's not healthy, so it's easier for me to just exclude calories from the picture entirely. Should I tell her why I don't count calories? Could I have told her that I don't care about calories in a nicer way? AITA?

Also, before anyone suggests it - she does NOT have an eating disorder. Idk why she counts calories, but she shares a lot about her life with me, and she eats plenty and eats well, and doesn't exercise excessively, just enough to stay healthy for what she wants to do.

What are these acronyms?

[snapscube]

hey big fan of your channel and art!! was wondering if for the midnight snap series what kind of sound design you were doing it rlly sounds nice!! (also smth that could be nice with it is maybe a little bit of like tape saturation or something might be able to make the audio sound "warmer" if youre like not already doing something like that already, but you probably know better than me!!) feel free to ignore that, but wanted to say in general its so well done and sounds so good!!! its really cozy and nice!!

hey thank you!!! yeah i'd.... genuinely LOVE to talk about my thinking and approach behind the sound design, i'm actually so happy you asked me this LOL this is the kind of shit i live for.

you might assume that it's just me recording the game audio and talking quietly with my normal stream settings, and that is kinda how it STARTS, but there's actually a bit more i've been doing behind the scenes :) nothing too crazy just yet but a little goes a long way when it comes to sound! i'm hoping to really nail down the soundscape and increase the quality over time and specifically up the soothing vibes by a lot. as well as get a little better about mic etiquette and my style of speech. BUT in terms of what i'm doing in post:

the first piece of the puzzle and definitely one of the most important sauces in the whole mix is the Hard Limiter. it does what you might imagine it does, basically just places a hard barrier and says "any sounds that exceed this volume.... no you don't", sort of like a much more intense compressor. currently i have a Hard Limiter on both my commentary AND the game audio, commentary i have set to peak at around -15 to -12 db, whereas game audio is more around the -23 to -20 range. in my more polished audio from later in the AC episode it's enough difference that one doesn't drown the other out in most cases, but not a wide enough gulf that people are struggling to pay attention to one in particular or have to frequently change volume (preferably they don't have to change it at all!). i took this screenshot of the episode's complete waveform when rendering out the audio-only version of AC part 1 and it was super satisfying cause like.... yeah. this is exactly the kind of waveform read i was going for. just super even and smooth across the board, save for a couple anomalies i'll buff out over time.

the next thing i do to both my own commentary and the game audio is actually just cutting down on harsher, higher frequencies with an EQ and just upping the bassier, warmer tones. i started with something super small in the first couple of episodes, i'm probably gonna go a bit harder on it for future stuff though. i wanna find a balance that doesn't make the game sound unrecognizable or anything but is noticeably easier on the ears and sounds more like a nice rolling wave rather than beep boop pac-man time.

past this i have a couple more things added to the commentary track:

to intensify the previous effect mentioned and cut down on harsh frequencies in my speech, i actually have a dedicated de-esser on my voice as well as my usual warmer EQ. i have the de-esser going pretty hard too, you might hear the difference from my usual stream commentary if you were to listen closely. really just taking those harsh t's and s's in my speech and making them sound more like a nice "shhhh", this one is super important i think

last thing i have to speak on otherwise is actually a plugin i found and bought specifically for this show and ends up being subtle but i think SUUUPER helpful in the long run, and that's this plugin called "spiff". spiff is a plugin by oeksound and i guess it's referred to as like, a transient editor? i'm actually not sure how it works at all on the nitty gritty level BUT the important thing is that they have a very important preset in the software, and that is a preset specifically designed to lessen and/or remove like... mouth sounds. yknow like lip smacks and the like. just kinda the gross smacks and clicks you don't hear as much in normal speech but can come through really intensely on a recording and kinda make ya uncomfortable. it obviously doesn't remove a lot of the more intense stuff, it's not a magic wand in my experience. but listening to the output of what it's removing on its own makes it REALLY clear there's a lot of little things it picks up and just kinda makes speech more soothing to listen to. not something i'm racing to apply to my normal streams, BUT for a sleep aid series where good audio is key????? 100% worth it, i like it a lot.

anyway yeah that's about it for now! a lot of it is pretty simple in and of itself but it's stuff i've been working at and experimenting with since i first started doing tests for the show and it's gonna be real nice to keep honing this stuff in. also cool suggestion with the tape saturation idea, i might look into something like that! once i nail stuff like leveling and frequency tuning for this show, i wanna look into some fancier ways of making the soundscape unique to this show compared to my normal streams so ideas like that are super helpful!

[smashwolfen]

Vacation gave me time to experiment and use recipes I've been wanting to make and try, and today I went with, of course, Legends Arceus staple-

Potato mochi!

Its actually really REALLY good and easier than I thought it was to make, and now I can make these as a filling side to my work lunches when I go back! Just imagining making iddy bitty bite sized mini ones would be so goooooood ;w;

When I was initially forming the shape with and without cheese, i found wetting my hands a little helped the potato forming easier and helped smooth the rounded shape more without them cracking and splitting as much. I had used mozzarella cheese for half of them to experiment with and while they were hella good, those ones did fall apart more than I'd like, but its melted cheese inside I should have guessed. I could have cooked mine a bit longer to make them more solidly crispy but the cheese made it spit in the pan a lot when one broke but even with a lighter fry it still is good to have a crunch too. The sauce is also very easy and simple, but instead of the white sugar it calls for I swapped it with brown sugar and I think it made the sauce more rich and helped it caramelize better so it made a more sticky sauce to go on the mochi. The seaweed paper is optional if you wanna handle them by hand with less mess, so if ya dont have nori in your area its not super important! I did find my sheets at a walmart!

A 10/10 simple recipe that can be messed with to make more diverse flavorful combos and give a twist on potato recipes! No wonder the Galaxy team eats these and practically nothing else, go try it out yourselves if you have the time to do so! XD

**Hyperlinks not working heres the video instead XD

You can follow it to a T but you can 'follow with your heart' so to speak

[squarebracketsmileyface]

On a totally opposite end of the spectrum from the role swap-

Imagine if after the Promise chapter things flipped. If after that argument The Operator- out of pure animalistic type curiosity- said “ooh lemme stick my fingers in this sauce here” and left Alex alone to latch onto Jay. Its already discovered how it can push and twist and manipulate one person, but what about a completely separate person? Will the results be the same? Different? Will it be easier or harder?

So it latches onto Jay, and Alex experiences a flat out withdrawal from that thing’s influence, followed by the most gut wrenching clarity. Realizing how crazy he went, how he killed his friends to “save” them when it never would have mattered. So two weeks pass, and all he can think about is Jay- talking to him again and telling him everything, being honest and actually fucking admitting that he cares about him, that he wants to make good on his promise and do things right.

But Jay doesn’t answer. Jay is the one who drops off the planet and goes MIA, and Alex has a horrible, sinking suspicion he knows why. He hopes that Jay just finally got sick of him- he HOPES thats all it is- but deep down there’s this creeping suspicion that its not a coincidence. That he passed his own torment on to Jay like some twisted fucking disease-

He finds out he’s right, later on. When he starts working together with Tim(he’s desperate to find Jay, to fix things, even if that means groveling for Tim’s help-), when they start having run ins with Jay where he won’t see reason, where he argues every point they make and tries to convince Alex that everyone has to die, to help him(and wow, did he sound that crazy too? probably, yikes-)

And in the end Alex makes one last desperate attempt. He meets Jay somewhere alone, tries to convince him to come with him, tells him that he loves him-

But Jay doesn’t believe him. He tells Alex as much(“i love you but i can’t trust you- you said it yourself, why would you ever love somebody like me?”) and Alex wants to cry when Jay throws his own awful words back at him, things he never meant to say-

But what destroys him is when Jay takes the gun that he stole from Alex months ago, puts it to his own head and pulls the trigger with a bang right in front of him.

I’m in a dark mood today LMAO we die like tunnel guy

we die like tunnel guy lmaoooo

fucking THIS tho oh my god the ANGST

i literally have nothing else to add really, my brain saw this and turned into angst mush i fucking love this so much. Jay not believing Alex when he says he loves him fucking OW. This is literally fucking perfect. like, actually.

Everyone come look at this and be fucking destroyed by it because OW. it's especially sad because i'm thinking so much about Alex being the one feeling super hurt and stuff in his uni relationship with Jay, because im writing if it ain't broken at the moment. I am in the perfect mindset for just pouring over Jaylex angst with Alex being the one left feeling worst for it.

Honestly though, Alex finally seeing things fully, truly clearly and realising how terrifying and horrible it must have been for Jay to see him the way he was with the Operator in his head, all angry and not seeing sense and arguing every little thing.

withdrawal from the Operator tho, like, actual withdrawals from it could be so interesting. Like, how would that interact with Tim since he's been dealing with the operator since he was a kid presumably. is he fucked either way? like, if he doesnt take his meds he could get withdrawals from them, and if he doesn't take them for a while then goes back on them does he then get withdrawals from the Operator? Or is it different because the Operator isn't in his head the same way it's in Alex's? is just being near it enough? Like second hand smoke?

[nerdieforpedro]

Get a room you two and BONE

Part two of the Roc & Doc Series

Tim Rockford x plus size OFC (Doc)

Rating: Mature only because of some of the banter.

This blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.7k

Summary: It’s been a month since “The Case of the Vanishing Pens” had been solved. Things have changed somewhat between Tim and Doc. Are they both okay? Turns out, friends can suck sometimes.

Warnings: bad TV references, teasing, theft, angst?, mention of murder and STD, friends being menaces, the trench coat, bad singing, a murder threat (affectionately)

Notes: Originally, part two was going to be 7k of words. 😅 That was way too long so we’ll have a part two and three. I am working toward something. We’ll all find out when I get there. I’m fond of trench coats now. 😎 A huge smooch to @lady-bess who beta read for me and had some hilarious commentary. 🤣

The top item from the “what should go missing next” poll is in here! The runner ups are in part three. 🤭

Dividers are by the ever lovely @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Tim Rockford Masterlist / Rock & Doc Series

You and the detective had dinner three times a week and tried to alternate who pays. Tim had you pay the first time but he insisted on paying the others. It’s been a month since “The Case of the Vanishing Pens.” You told Tim that his jokes were as old as Columbo. He was not amused. Tim told you that he’s a classic like Columbo, and you need to show respect. And honestly, he’s more like Kojak - able to find a parking space anywhere in LA. You choked on your shrimp fried rice while sitting in the passenger seat of his car, he patted your back to try and help the piece of shrimp go down, it eventually did. 

“You’re not bald Rockford. Are you starting to go bald? Is that why you think you’re like Kojak?”, you asked, "going to start rocking three piece suits with a briefcase?”. Tim’s face freezes and he squints his eyes. 

“I will kick you out of my car and leave you at this restaurant Doc. Don’t joke about a man’s hair.”

“You wouldn’t dare, Kojak would never. If you’re going to be mad about it, don’t compare yourself to a famous bald TV detective. Stick with Columbo Rockford.” The two of you grinned at each other. Since the pen incident, it’s become even easier to joke with Tim. You feel you’ve grown somewhat closer to him, but you still won’t ask him anything personal. He doesn’t ask you those types of questions either. It crosses an imaginary line you both have drawn for yourselves.

Tim had told you that you didn’t need to pay, he’d been teasing you for stealing his pens, though he still doesn’t fully buy it was just about a menu. You had also told him, “no, we’re both city employees getting shit pay. We gotta split it, Tim.” He laughed and reluctantly agreed. So the two of you started alternating tabs. Why would you offer to pay when you clearly have some unnamed grudge against him (in his mind anyway)? Is this a ‘keep your friends close and enemies closer’ sort of deal? 

The answer doesn’t come to him as he finishes the last of his egg roll, some duck sauce is on his chin in his beard. With a moist towelette you pull from the depths of your tote bag, you dab his chin and succeed in getting the sauce off and making Tim re-evaluate what your end goal is. It’s too soft of a touch as you could have pushed his face as part of your teasing but you didn’t. You’ve given him small hip bumps in the autopsy room or even in your office. Those don’t feel intimate like this, maybe it’s because it’s his car or the lack of space. It’s dangerously close to the line he’s drawn in the sand with you. It’s times like these that Tim is thankful you don’t notice him clearing his throat or keeping his cafe brown eyes on you as you slurp your noodles. He’s thinking too much again.

Rockford ensures that you get back to your small car you call ‘the blueberry.’ The car suits your personality. It feels loud, quirky but not over the top, much like its owner. He never leaves before watching you pull out of the parking lot and make the right turn at the light. It’s then that he begins his own drive home. He sometimes has an inkling to text if you got home alright but he’s never texted you outside of work. Except the two times he picked you up tacos… alright, maybe it was four times, but limited to food options. Why is it so weird? 

Rockford sighs at the orange streetlights ahead of the hood of his old Ford Crown Victoria. His mind is on you again, but it’s just because you spend a lot of time with each other and you look a hell of a lot better than any of his other partners. Well, you’re not his partner but it kinda feels like it when he talks out cases with you. Stevenson is a solid partner, but he’s wet behind the ears and still learning quite a bit. You, on the other hand, listen. Look at him with genuine interest with questions that tell him you were indeed hearing him. Tim is in his driveway wondering if you’ve already walked up the two flights of stairs to your apartment. He knows you like music but what else do you like?

“Shit.” Rockford gets out of his car and enters his home, dropping off his trench coat and shoes near the door. He stretches out on the couch and flips on the TV. There should be something to watch. An episode of Kojak is in progress with him parking perfectly, getting out of the car, bald head shining with a three piece suit and his briefcase. “What are the chances…?”

As promised, you brought him 4 boxes of pens over the months you’d been eating take out with him. He had nowhere to stick them and wondered if you were pranking him; you were not. You just felt bad about taking his pens for so long. You overdid it a bit, you explained and offered to hold some of them in your office. Tim declined and made room on the top of one of his file cabinets. Seeing something that you’d given him made him smile softly, before turning to face you, he cleared his throat and put his hands on those hips of his, saying he had work to do. You nodded and told him you’d see him around, you were sure there'd be more bodies to look at before long together. The detective sat at his desk and looked at the reports he needed to finish up, they suddenly seemed tedious. He’s wondering if he should have told you it would have been alright if you wanted to stay for a bit. Could have spoken to you while working on them to make the time go faster. Your absence is an issue for Tim. He’s got too many of those already.

Tim stopped by later in the evening to update you on what happened with the arsenic case. Turns out, the victim’s girlfriend had convinced him to become a pescatarian for better health. The girlfriend found out that the victim had two other lovers and had given them the clap (gonorrhea) in addition to her. The three happened to meet in the same clinic where they were getting tested. She had contacted those two after getting diagnosed as the name was different, but the physical description was the same as her boyfriend. It was then that the girlfriend started dosing his food to kill him. She told Tim and the other detectives that she wanted to watch him slowly die. She apparently laughed as they were taking her away in handcuffs. 

You are engrossed in the details. Tim tells you the entire thing from beginning to end, he adds in tidbits from his notes that wouldn’t be in any of your reports. Despite looking like he was tired of everyone’s bullshit ninety percent of the time, the detective was rather animated in explaining the case to you. He walked back and forth in your office and then placed his hands on the back of a chair while leaning in to go over how the dots were connected between the seemingly unrelated people. If the man wasn’t a detective, he should be a voice actor or teacher…you’re sure there’s a suitable profession you’re forgetting in between the options, whatever would warrant people listening to him for a while. 

Toward the end of Tim’s colorful retelling, Kim, one of the clerks and a friend of yours, stopped by the office. She was watching the two of you, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. She would have made a joke about you getting yourself in Tim’s trench coat but knew you wouldn’t forgive her for saying it in front of the man that you swear you only have respect and adoration for. Kim had tried to get you to understand your feelings, to at least see that you may want to spend time outside of work with the famed detective. The time may include an actual date at some point.

You’d always told her that it was because he’s always been respectful toward you, and that he came by your office when he didn’t need to. Like today. Kim was sure you hadn’t asked for any follow up on the case, yet here Rockford is telling you about it and you’re giving him all his attention. It’s annoying to watch the two of you. Sure he might be older than you, but it’s less than ten years and she’s sure he doesn’t talk to his ex-wife at all. At one point the precinct did think they were going to get back together shortly after you’d become the new medical examiner five years ago but nothing ever came of it. Not that Kim kept that close on an eye on things for you.Thankfully, there’s only been rumors of maybe some women here and there. Detective Rockford is one who stays holster deep in murders and crime. Kim did have to agree with you on one thing, those holsters are a damn good look on the man. She understands why your eyes linger on him. Kim preferred her men to be on the skinny side so she could toss them around a bit - she can be a bit rough at times.

Waiting until Tim seemed finished with his story, Kim knocked on the open door so the two of you would hear her. 

“Hey Doc, Tim. What are you two crazy kids up to? Making some more dinner plans? Going to take it a step above take out and go to a place where there might be seats inside the restaurant?” The detective bit the side of his jaw which Kim was quick to notice and smirked. Like how does she not notice how bothered he is when anyone interrupts him speaking to her? Maybe Tim liked her stealing his pens? Hmm…that’s an idea.

Your face hardens at your friend’s joke and you start nervously pressing your hands together. At least it wasn’t the trenchcoat one she likes to make, thank goodness. Tim looked back at the door and stood up, shaking his head. 

“Hey Kim. Just knew Doc would want to hear how the case turned out. I’m going to head out Doc. I’m going to go make sure Stevenson isn’t still working on the homicide from last week. He makes fun of my chicken scratch, but he types slow as hell for someone fifteen years younger than me. Good night Doc, don’t steal anymore pens. I know she’ll be your accomplice.” Rockford nods, gives you a smile and once at the doorway, cuts his eyes at Kira before leaving. Your friend slides by Tim as he exits and plops down across from you and snickering. 

“Did the famed detective get a bit pissed at me because I came between him and his dear Doc? For shame and I guess I did know you were taking his pens. To be fair, I did tell you to stop several times.” She playfully tapped her own hand as if she was being reprimanded. You sat back in your chair and shook your head. She’s been teasing you about this for as long as you had stolen that man’s pens well after. Tim didn’t tease you as much anymore. Well, sometimes, but only when you got in the car and he asked to see your hands to make sure you didn’t remove anything from his glove box or console.

“Could you just drop it? Please…what did you come here for Kim?”. 

“I came to remind you that this weekend is our friend’s engagement party. And before you start,” Kim reached out and took hold of Doc’s hand, “you’ve RSVPed, we bought an outfit a few weeks ago just for this party theme and I could give this back to one such man in a trench coat after you go.” Kim’s free hand exposed a little black book that Tim often carried everywhere for his notes. Your eyes are wide, it’s bad enough about the pens but it’s a funny joke now. His book?! 

“Dammit Kim, you need to give it back now!” Kim is shocked at your growl and lets go of your hand, holding tighter to the book. 

“No. You give it to him and say it fell out of his pocket or something. He has fifty places in that trench coat I could have been. I honestly think he likes it when you take his stuff.” She stood up and so did you, were you really going to fight her over this man’s book? “The fact that you’re this upset, proves my point. You need to talk to him, stop just watching him, have him take you to a place where you order and eat inside and maybe go to your place or his and-”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Just give me the book and maybe he won’t push for me to resign or be in a different county or something for harassment.” Your hands are on your head, running through how badly this could go. No matter how nice Tim is, taking that book is almost as bad as taking his tie or holsters. It’s a part of him. Though it would be kinda cool if you held it for a minute. No…no. You can’t go into that rabbit hole. That is reserved for when you’re in your apartment in your PJs and are sipping on some hot chocolate with some cookies. 

“You just need to bone….be on the desk and bone…maybe he keeps the trench coat on while you bone…I know he’s wearing the holsters when you bone…maybe you pull the hair he still has while you bone…you grab his biceps while you bone…”. Kim is singing horribly off key and if you weren’t so frustrated and anxious you’d tell her to shut it. But you need a laugh to release the tension in your body so you do, doubled over on your desk. Kim drops the black book before you and kisses your forehead.

“You just need a push to talk to him and you're already a bit of a thief. Just slip his book in his car the next time you two eat and talk to him. It’s not like people in the department don’t date. That’s how the captain met his wife.” She pats your head. “They fought over a stapler, she threw it at him. He said she had an excellent throwing arm. Love was in the air.” Kim did a jazz hand flourish and you look up, rolling your eyes.

“I would rather not be violent with the man. And I will not…bone him. Gah, you made me say it.” You shake your head and sit back and sigh. “Just please don’t push it. Can I just stay in my safe little bubble, please? Daydream about the man, why can’t I do that? Why will you not let me do that?” 

Kim sat back down and crossed her arms, sucking her teeth, “Real talk right now Doc. It’s not your job title that keeps you from talking to Tim. It’s that you’re scared that he might actually reciprocate your feelings and you may have to be in a relationship with a grown man with baggage, can hold a conversation with you and will be able to hold it down in the bedroom.” Your hands cover your face. You’re not discussing this at work. No…but you are. “Stop acting like you haven’t thought about it.” Kim laughs at your discomfort and embarrassment, but pauses to sneak a peek at her phone. “I would drop more truth bombs at you but I have to go. Tony’s here to pick me up. I will see you tomorrow and this weekend. Maybe one day you’ll have your detective use his investigative skills under a dress like that.”

“Please go to Tony before I have to call and tell him you're on my slab.”

“You’re too busy trying to find a way into a trench coat to worry about murdering me. Take care getting home.”

“I will never tell you anything again. Good night.”

Part One

Part Three

Keen moots who may want the trench coat on with nothing else 🧥:

@alltheglitterandtheroar @sin-djarin @morallyinept @yorksgirl @bitchwitch1981 @heareball @megamindsecretlair @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills @yorksgirl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @avastrasposts @clawdee @pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing @rhoorl @inept-the-magnificent @grogusmum @agentjackdaniels @pedroshotwifey @laurfilijames @frenchiereading

[ispyspookymansion]

hiii kora! i have a reesippy for you too! its my dads recipe for Espinazo (a pork rib/chile based soup he used to make in mexico with my grandma) i dont really have exact measurements because we kind of just use vibes but heres the recipe!

-at least 1-1.5lbs of pork ribs (the kind in chunks not full rack)

-like 7-10ish guajillo chiles

-about 1 large onion

-salt, to taste

-garlic (if you want we usually dont caise we forget lmao)

-bay leaf

-rice(i personally like using instant white rice cause it splits down the middle all cool when it been cooking in the soup for a long time lmao)

1)start boiling water with the pork ribs and the onion cut in big chunks with whatever salt or a bit of bullion you think feels right (and whatever garlic you want to if you do that!)

2)cut the stems off and get the seeds out of the chiles (cutting them lengthwise usually makes this easier) and put them in a pot of water to boil until theyre pretty soft but before they start to lose color

2)let the chile water cool just a little bit and add the softened chiles and some of the chile water and a bit of salt into a blender/food processor and make it an almost sauce, once its smoothish strain it into the soup pot so the bits of chile skin dont overtake the soup but you still get the sauce in there (add whatever chile water is left into the soup pot as well)

3) let the meat cook and the soup boil up

4) add as much rice as feels right for your soul (remember it goes a long way and the more rice you add the less soupy it will be)

5)let the rice cook till its really soft and kinda splits and the soup is boiling salt to taste

6)serve with tortillas or bread or whatever you like to eat soup with and some lime wedges for juice to taste

NESSAAAAA THIS SOUNDS SO DELICIOUS no worries abt the measurements this is perfect :-)

[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 7 - COMPANION

The hotel’s dining room is reminiscent of the restaurants Caelestis remembers eating at when ze was younger, on the rare occasions zir mother coaxed zem out of the house. The smooth gleam of the floors, the crackling glow of the hearth; even the weave of the napkins, the buffed edges of the tabletop, the candle in its little dyed-glass holder.

It makes Caelestis think of the stained glass in the walls of the temples; which is strange, because ze’d never been an avid temple-goer, and it’s been years since ze’s seen one. They don’t have the grand windows in the sporadic shrines in Morrowind; they are much smaller, most of the time, more self-contained, as if whoever designed the buildings – or, it almost felt, the buildings themselves – knew how oddly placed they were, soft little sacrariums dedicated to foreign gods. Most of them were never very busy. Caelestis understands why, ze thinks; ze’s never fully grasped the appeal of a religiously lived life, constant thought for beings so eternally far away. Gods that walk, two feet on the ground with the rest of them, have much more allure.

(Vivec always used to float, cross-legged, above his own shrine. Sotha Sil didn’t even have legs.)

It’s very nice, the setup of the tables, the art on the walls, the stained candle-cups and marbled glass of the windows and the quiet chatter of the room all around, the clinking of plates and cutlery, the gorgeous smell of food now more nostalgic than familiar. A jug of wine sits on the table before zem, untouched; the food is still steaming. Zir companion picks up a spoon to prod their dish with.

“You told me,” he says gravely, “that the cuisine of Cyrodiil had fewer insects.”

The prawns, spattered with sauce and spices, their antennae curled and lifeless eyes gleaming, do look remarkably buglike.

“Fewer,” Caelestis says, “not none.” A pause; ze looks down at zir own dish of egg and carefully lined up squid cakes. It’s unfamiliar enough now that ze needs to prepare zirself to try it. “Besides, they’re crustaceans, not insects.”

“A paltry difference,” he replies, with a flick of the spoon, and he cleaves the boiled-soft head off with its edge.

It’s strange, to be in a place like this again; so different to the places ze can easily afford in Morrowind, and the luxuries ze’s grown accustomed to. It’s strange to be in a public house at all, really, sitting over a meal ze does not need, opposite a stranger’s face; but they are practising, the pair of them. Play-acting at normalcy in a place that gives them some little leeway. Caelestis’ clothes aren’t at all the fashions worn by anyone else at any other table in the hall; zir skin, dry and mottled, is free of any visible scars or tattoos, cheeks plump and uneven with soft flesh taken from the inside of zir thigh. Zir hair lacks its shaved sides, long and dark and twined into an elaborate twisting shape reaching down the back of zir neck. (That’s the strangest change, honestly, and one ze hasn’t attempted before; ze’s left the barely-visible seams to make it easier to find where the join comes in, and stored zir real scalp, its hair shaved almost to the skin, in the leather folds of zir kit.) Zir companion, a bug-eyed Dunmer with temperamental hair and glisteringly new clothes, seems more at home in the change of scenery than ze is. With every flourish of hir cutlery, the firelight catches on the blood-red ring on hir middle finger.

(Caelestis still can’t look at it without grimacing; but maybe that’s for the best. Ze’s trying to get better at controlling zir facial expressions anyway.)

“I am curious,” says the traveller-who-is-not-Vivec to his companion-who-is-not-the-Nerevarine, and he pops the spoonful of prawn into his mouth, shell intact. (Caelestis has never eaten prawn zirself – ze’s always been very put off by meat that looks like animals – but ze’s reasonably certain that that’s not how it’s done.) He chews, eyes dark as wine; asks, “Why here?”

Caelestis takes up zir own cutlery. “It’s supposed to be the best in the city,” ze says. Ze’d ordered eggs, because bird isn’t so different from kwama, and seafood, because Vvardenfell has sea, too. (Ze has never taken easily to change, no matter how minor.)

Ze manages to carve off a forkful of squid. It smells nice, at least, though it will be irritating getting it out, later. On a normal day ze wouldn’t eat. But they’re practising, pretending to be people. People eat, as a general rule, so the not-Nerevarine has to, too.

Vivec flicks his eyes to the side. “No. Why any hotel?”

Ah.

Caelestis eats the squid, for the sake of looking like ze’s doing anything other than scrambling for an answer.

(The answer is, simply, that ze’s afraid; to ask for things, or to be given them, and then not want to refuse.)

“I think it’s best,” ze says, once the perfectly nice bite of squid cake is chewed and swallowed, “that I keep this time short.” (It’s been years of letter-writing; years of growing apart; ze is terrified down to zir bones that the minute ze steps into that house it will feel wrong. Even worse, that it won’t.)

(It’s a final farewell. No sense in dragging it out. Surely that will only make it more painful.)

There’s too much to it; too much mess and confusion; Caelestis stares at zir egg and squid and doesn’t mean to say anything, but the words fall ugly and vulnerable onto the ceramic of zir plate anyway. “I don’t even know what I’ll say.”

Vivec’s spoon clinks against his dish. The candle in its little glass dances. “Say everything,” he says, with the tone of one bestowing enlightening knowledge; “You’re lucky enough to know this is your last chance.” Guilt rises, as it always does, in Caelestis’ throat; the spoon clanks again and zir companion says, “This is actually quite good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Caelestis replies. Zir fork squeaks. They are quiet, for a brief moment, in the noise of the hall.

Vivec reaches for the wine jug, pours hirself a glass; offers it to Caelestis, who declines. Food is more difficult to extract when mixed with liquid; besides, ze’s never liked wine enough to drink it for the sake of the taste, and it does nothing to zem, now.

Alcohol, like most intoxicants, works its effects through the bloodstream. Caelestis is a dry and clotted corpse.

“It is good,” Vivec repeats, and tilts their head to the side, thoughtful. It’s odd to see the hair move with them. “Hm. Perhaps you can just leave me here when you go to visit your mother.”

Their eyes look as deep red as the wine swirling around in the glass. It’s an unfamiliar brand; from Skingrad, Caelestis would bet. Most Cyrod wines are. The whole county is a vineyard, according to zir mother; ze’s never been, personally.

Maybe before they return to Vvardenfell, they could take a look. It isn’t as if travelling time is an issue. It isn’t as if any time is an issue anymore.

Caelestis prods at the spiced yolk of zir egg. “Maybe,” ze says. “But surely you’d get bored of sitting around eating prawns after a while.”

When Vivec smiles, an odd and private twist of the lips, the guise flickers; his hair gleams and one eye flashes gold. “You underestimate me,” he says gravely, beginning an attempt to shell the prawn with careful fingers. “I’m sure I’ve written verse on this very subject. Anything can be interesting if you choose to be interested by it.”

There is soft meat spreading over his fingers, knuckle-deep in cracking the carapace. Caelestis stares at the shell, wonders vaguely if ze could do anything with it; if it’s flesh-like enough; if it’s dead enough. Vivec extracts the innards with the care of a surgeon and swallows the shelled prawn in one. For a moment it all feels overwhelming – so staggeringly unbelievable – so ridiculous; Caelestis thinks of their first meeting, strange and awkward and so, so heavy. Ze’d still been alive, then, still growing accustomed to the new shape corprus and ridding zirself thereof gave zem, still figuring out how to talk around zir half-tongue, still carving out a place in Morrowind’s mythos to fit zem. It was staggering; it was overpowering; ze’d been choking on parables, still, so very unprepared to meet him in person. When ze first pushed open that door Vivec hadn’t even yet called off the curse they’d levelled on zir head; the temple was ready and willing to kill zem at a word. They’d each spoken of it simply, perfunctorily; that they had tried to have zem executed was, at that time, the simplest part of their relationship.

(Now, Caelestis thinks, the simple thing it all boils down to is different. Now, they are allies. Everything else is secondary.)

Vivec had seemed intimidating then. Alien, unknowable; the centre of a legend ze’d found some strange comfort in since ze was a child, hovering still and silent above hir own ancient shrine; a god, back when it meant something bigger than it does now. Hir speech had been short and weighty, every word pronounced as if it were momentous, solemn as anything. Caelestis doesn’t think ze saw hir smile until perhaps their fourth meeting, and even then it had been wry. Ze didn’t joke, then; said nothing flippantly; carried hirself with a comportment befitting the roll ze was taking.

Caelestis wonders, now, how true any of it was. How true any of it is, or ever has been. Ze’s not an enormously insightful person, and people are complicated; gods, seemingly, even more so. Especially when they’re both at once.

Zir fork clinks against the porcelain of the plate. “You seem happier,” ze says. The fire crackles.

“Do I?” says Vivec; Caelestis can never usually read his tone, but now he sounds curious. He leans back into the smooth wood of his chair, eyes settling on the elaborately coffered ceiling. (It really is overpoweringly strange seeing him with hair; long and pulled back, escaping easily from its ties. Caelestis wonders if this is how he looked, before the Heart; ze hasn’t asked.)

He gazes at the ceiling as if some grand thing might be inscribed in its painted contours.

“I think,” he says after a moment, Caelestis watching him while slicing off a mouthful of squid cake, “I am relieved,” and he nods decisively as he looks back at his plate, moves in to peel open another prawn. In the light of the little candle, his fingers look slick.

Caelestis lifts zir forkful to zir mouth. Ze does not say why? does not say how? does not say don’t you grieve for all we’ve wrought? but it must be written on the lines of zir face, because they meet zir eyes and tilt their head, gentle.

“You know I wasn’t surprised,” ze says, and Caelestis nods, once. “All of it – all we’ve done – was eons in the making.” A pause; hir fingers crack open a shell. “I hadn’t spoken to either of them in decades. I grieved for each loss long before it came to pass.”

The room swirls and eddies around them, a mess of chatter, painted-on scenery. Caelestis feels, sometimes, like ze could reach out and smear the world around zem with a touch.

Vivec sets hir food down in the ceramic dish. “And now there is nothing left to dread. I’m done mourning.” He brings his thumb to his mouth, licks off the juice of the meat. His teeth are small. He smiles, suddenly, wide and brilliant. “I confess, I didn’t think this far ahead. Now it seems all the world is new.”

“Soon enough,” Caelestis says drily, “it will be.”

Vivec raises their glass to that. Caelestis chinks zir fork against it, after they spend several seconds refusing to bring it back down. “Salut,” ze says, watches him drink.

He sets the glass down. “I am glad,” he says, “that I do not navigate this new mortal world alone.” His dish glisters in the firelight, spices mingling with the air’s thin smoke; he tips it toward zem and offers, “Crustacean?”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Omg hello! Can I request Tangerine and Lemon as older brothers of a kid sibling? How good of older brothers would they be? I don’t mind if it’s afab or gn you can pick! Thank you so much

hii!! I love this, and they'd be amazing big brothers! I did change the reader to teenager, hope that's okay? just so that its easier to imagine etc. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

the three musketeers

tangerine x lemon x f reader (siblings)

wc || 0.7k

warnings || swearing and fluff

also the twins way of speaking aren't typos, I just made them very english lmao

masterlist + rules

taglist

As the youngest sister to a pair of protective fruit-named twins, you were looked after well and always kept out of harm's way. They weren't too fond of their baby teenage sister following in their occupational footsteps, so they did everything they could to deter you from that kind of life.

Every other week, you and your brothers would meet up for a quaint sibling dinner at the location chosen on the spinning wheel. Today the wheel had selected Lemon's city centre flat, which meant he was hosting tonight's dinner for the third time in a row. As you were still living at home, the options were pretty limited; the only options being Lemon's flat or Tan's place. They weren't too keen on going out to dinner in a public location in case things went sideways and you got caught in the crossfire. They didn't mean to come across as controlling, they were just like that because they love you.

As your brothers were often out of town and away on missions, you didn't get to see them as much as you had hoped, but with some simple persuasion, you convinced them to book one day off every fortnight, especially for you. So to prepare for this evening's dinner, you spent the afternoon making the most-favoured dessert of choice; homemade lemon meringue pie. Usually, everyone would bring something as a way to lighten the load for the host; Tangerine tended to bring alcohol, Lemon would take some kind of cheese, and you'd make a sweet treat for after.

"When's it ready? I'm starving," you question, whine drenching your tone. "Been here like half hour, why ain't it in front of me?" you playfully provoke Lemon, discreetly winking to your other brother, who was snickering into the ball of his hand.

"Oi, watch your tone with me, mardy bum," Lemon replies, his hands adjusting his cutesy pink apron. "I'll poison yer food," his eyes widened as if to emphasise.

"Where'd yer get that apron, mate? Knick it off that granny downstairs?" Tangerine chirps in.

"Ha ha ha, you guys are so funny," Lem sarcastically replies with faux playful features. "Get fucked, the pair of ya." He turns on his heel and smacks the spoon on the back of your brother's head.

"Watch it, knobhead," Tan grunts, rubbing the sauce from his hair onto the sofa. "What a dick," nodding over to the now empty doorway. "So, what's been going on with you? What you been up to lately?"

"Nothing much," you shrug, turning your attention to the tv.

"How'd that date go? That guy in your class, what's his name again?"

"It was alright," you shrug again, avoiding your brother's hard gaze.

"He was a dick, weren't he?"

"I don't know… he didn't turn up," you awkwardly laugh. "Hey, want any help in there?" you call out, trying to avoid Tan's persistent questioning.

"You tryna distract me?"

You slide off the sofa, practically running away as you join Lemon in the kitchen. "Shut up… what's up with all these questions, man? Like a fucking gameshow,"

Tangerine chases after you, darting over to join Lemon before you could get there. "Guess what? That shit of a guy she was meant to be seeing? The little prick stitched her up." He interrupts, looking at your brother in approval.

"He did what? Why'd he do that?" Lem asks, placing the tray on the counter, his gaze darting between you both. "That why you been bitchy recently?" he jokes, earning him a firm slap on the chest. "You're right, sorry… what you want us to do? Fuck him up a bit?"

"Scare him? Threaten him?" Tangerine pipes in, arms folded as if the conversation of threats was normal.

"No, god no… just leave it, he's a dick anyway,"

"We're sorry," Lemon says softly, walking around the island to join you, tightly hugging into your side.

"Yeah, sorry… there's better ones out there," Your other brother adds, hugging your other side.

"This is so embarrassing," you mumble, cowering from their affections.

"We'll leave ya alone," Tangerine says, knowing you didn't really mean it.

Immediately wrapping your arms around your brothers, pulling them in. "No… not yet,"

"Sommat burning?"

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @v1ntage-daydr3am @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @astermath @dynamitehacke @ugh09876554444 @boldlyimportantface @charmedkim @fruitlovertangerine @psiiconic @bubblezuku @sporadiccherryblossomfan

[voidingintotheshout]

Bigger Bro: A Continuation

Okay, so there's this amazing story of filial revenge by someone on here called Better Off Bigger. They wrote an amazing 10 page (6,000 word) story called Big Bro. It's one of my favorite stories (of any genre) from the last couple of years. It is 18+ but I don't recall any sex or descriptions of nudity. Use discretion, but in my estimation is only PG-13.

Anyway, I wrote a 19 page (15,000 word) sequel to this awesome story exploring the family history and the relationship dynamics between the two brothers. I've talked with Better Off Bigger and their preference is that I link to their story and then post my own. I'll honor that and remind you that my story may not stand of its own without reading their story first.

Link to: Big Bro by Better Off Bigger

I'll post my story in two parts. I started this story in January 2023. It's DECEMBER 2023 now. It's been a tough thing to polish and edit. It's worth knowing that I loathe editing, so if there is a typo, leave it (and the location) in the comments if it's bothering you and I'll try to get around to fixing it in less time it took me to edit this thing (6+ months).

Bigger Bro (Part 1 of 2) (2023)

Note: Part 1 is in first person, from Jared’s perspective.

Fortunately, I love cooking, so spending a couple of extra hours in the kitchen every day making food for my big bro Marco was something that gave me pleasure. It also didn’t hurt that recently, my stepbrother had been conditioned to eat everything that was put in front of him, and it showed.

It has been a year since I moved out of my parents house, and Marco was out of a job. Apparently, someone tipped off our oblivious boss at how much food Marco was eating, which, at first our boss didn’t really care that much about until this person put a price tag on how much it was costing our boss, and then Marco had to go.

We moved ourselves out of that house, and for a little while he was at a loss. He hadn’t been out of work in years, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He thought for a while about going to college or going back to school in between bites of whatever food I put in front of him, but whenever I would dangle the idea of how he would pay for it in front of him, the idea of cashing in his nest egg on going back to school didn’t appeal to him. He’d tell me that he would think about it, mull it over in between mouthfuls. Fortunately, I managed to keep him mostly occupied as I persuaded him that this new arrangement was about complete freedom for him to do what he wanted. No asshole judgmental friends, no asshole judgmental parents, and no asshole judgmental coworkers. He could do what made him happy, which coincidentally was what would make me happy: him eating like a pig.

I moved around some of the dishes that were warming in the oven and stirred some of the items that were still on the stove. I treated our stove like a warming oven, so things that took a long time to put together like a stack of waffles or pancakes, or French toast, could just stay warm in the oven while I worked on other things. I could still hear Marco’s snoring from the end of the hall, so I knew that he was still asleep. Fortunately, I was almost done.

The pot of coffee was brewing on the dining table, and that was the last thing I put together for his breakfast. I already had my lean breakfast while I was cooking, because I certainly wasn’t gonna wait around a half hour to an hour while he wolfed down all of that food. I turned the heat off on the final items to get done, which was the roasted carrots in butter sauce. I started to plate everything on large trays, because he didn’t really care about eating off of ceramics, so I just put the food directly on serving trays, just to make it easier for me to keep everything clean. I just kept a stack of them on the counter and I could just throw them in the dishwasher as needed. Usually one meal cooking for Marco ended up filling up the dishwasher more or less, so I just got into the habit of emptying the dishwasher while I was prepping the food.

I was plating the food, when I heard a thud at the end of the hallway, and that usually meant that Marco had rolled himself out of bed. I knew from experience that the heavier you got, you’re not usually very good at getting a sense of how much your life has changed since you’ve started gaining weight. He wasn’t even aware that he needed to use the momentum of swinging his legs to get his body off of the bed. One time, about a month or two ago, I came home. He was taking a nap in bed, and I tried to get him to see if he could get out of bed without swinging his legs over the side. Poor fat fuck acted like I was asking him to do the impossible. For a second, I wanted to get on to the bed and show that I had more than enough core strength to turn my body without swinging my legs… that this was an indication of how fat and heavy he had become, but I didn’t wanna fuck things up.

I heard the thuds of his footfalls, and I popped my head around the corner so I could see him waddle down the hallway. Unlike me, who gained weight mostly in the belly, Marco gained it everywhere, and he had already developed massive ass and thighs that made it so that he needed to waddle everywhere he went. Fortunately, I did everything for him, so no one had yet had called him out on the fact that he was literally waddling from place to place. I loved that I saw the edge of his belly leave the bedroom quite a bit before I saw the rest of him He waddled down the hallway, his arms pushed out from the massive bags of fat hanging down under his armpits. His apron of belly fat was hanging down below the reach of his arms. He could reach the end of his belly, but only if he was lying on his back.

One day, I was feeding him breakfast and he mentioned that he had just been beating off thinking about the hot guy I’d just brought home and fucked last night. I went into his room, and I saw that he had piled some pillows in the middle of the bed, presumably to get his belly away from his dick so he could even fucking reach it. I checked the browser history, but he was either too oblivious, or careless to even think about clearing it, and I was very happy to see that he was already chatting with communities of gainers and encouragers online. Googling tips on how you can continue masturbating at large sizes. I mean, he had a boyfriend, Nathan, but all of his eating made Marco horny so he usually needed it more often than Nathan was around. Nate was a little bit smaller than I was at my peak. He weighed about 275. Marco loved it because Nate was half his size.

“Sup bro.” Marco interjected. “Have another amazing repast for me, I see. You’re lucky that I’m here so that you can keep your skills up. It’s not like that bullshit restaurant you work at even serves breakfast food.” I snickered, because the restaurant had been an ‘amazing, esteemed place’ before he’d been fired but was now a ‘bullshit, shithole, fleabag’ now. A ‘bullshit’ restaurant serving fare he’d shovel into his face as fast as he could every time I brought home anything.

He started digging into the French toast with ice cream and syrup and butter. He ate it with serving spoons now because it was just easier to get stuff into his mouth. I was trying to convince him to start eating with his hands, but it was gonna take a little bit more persuading to get him to eat foods like mashed potatoes (which were hot), or ice cream (which was cold) with his hands. “Yeah. I love getting all the practice I can. I’ll have some of my fellow chefs drop off some food starting at around eleven. Will that give you enough time?”

“Yeah. I’ll be up and about by then. I got a lot of stuff percolating in the tank.” He said, with a jerk upwards, as if he was busy thinking deep thoughts about his future, as he moaned and grunted audibly stuffing food in as quickly as he could, in an effort to overfill his stomach before his brain could send the signal that he was full. As if it was a race against time.

“Excellent. It’s important to stay busy. Will you still be up later in the week to let some of my buddies in culinary school cook for you? They all really appreciate having someone with a good appetite who can give them notes on what you liked and what you didn’t. You know, food tasters are nice, but they only taste a bite of the food but you’ll finish the whole meal so you give them better sense of which items lose their flavor or stop being as delicious by the last bite.” I also liked the fact that the mammoth meals stuffed my obese brother with thousands of extra calories, every single time he had one of those. I wasn’t about to tell my brother that they didn’t really need his feedback, but I really loved any opportunity to stuff that fatass with more calories.

I thought back to Marco walking down the hallway. His double chin turned in to a small scoop of fat as plump, fleshy face jiggled as he waddled down the hallway. Marco generally didn’t bother wearing shirts around the house, but rather just kept a nice shirt near any place that he was likely to sit and eat, so he could just throw the shirt on anytime he needed to have guests. That would guarantee that if there were any food stains, they were almost always on the inside of the shirt.

I didn’t know how fat Marco had gotten exactly, but every once in a while, I would bring home a bottle of rum and two liters of Coke, and Marco would get completely wasted. Once, Marco had gotten to the point that I knew the fatass was about 10 minutes away from falling asleep, I would make Marco put one foot foot on either scale, because Marco was too fat for anything less than a bariatric scale at this point, and get his weight. This was an important one, because this was the one year anniversary of the two of us moving in together. When we moved in, Marco was 410 pounds. He had gained another 5 to 7 pounds between when he got fired and when we actually moved in. I glanced over to the table and noticed that Marco had finished half of the food on two of the cafeteria trays that were piled high with mounds of food covered in fat and butter and sugar. “Everything good there a big bro?”

“Amazing as always. I don’t know how you do it. I was always useless in the kitchen, but I was always pretty helpful around the dinner table finishing stuff off. Not that our fucking parents appreciated that. I’m glad I can at least do something to create more amazing chefs like you by giving all of your friends notes about what they’re making. Some of them are pretty good. That lady, Sandra? She’s amazing. You should have her come and cook again.”

Sandra. Yeah, Sandra wasn’t going to be coming back.

One of the design details that I had all over the house is I had mirrors right next to photos of Marco as he used to look when he was fit. As a way of taunting him. Amazingly, he never really put it together, he just saw that he was a hot guy and that was awesome and now he can do whatever he wants which was also awesome. Sandra didn’t know she was going to be cooking for someone who at the moment was about 530 pounds. Not only that, without anyone but me and his encourager boyfriend, he had lost all sense of decorum and table manners as he was encouraged to stuff food in as quickly and shamelessly as he could; never timid about asking for, or demanding, more food at any time. It was part of my plan to make a Marco one of those greedy pigs that he saw watching episodes of My 600 Pound Life. It was all part of a larger plan.

Sandra didn’t know any of that, and when she found out that her food was being used to make a 23 year old guy who was already so heavy that he struggled to get up, even fatter… she felt like she was doing something bad, and when she insisted that she would try to intervene and get Marco to start being healthier, she had to go. If need be, I could make up some story about unprofessional conduct, or she had a death in the family and needed to move away, or whatever.

I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling that Marco had already gotten so fat that he would struggle to actually get into that fucking car of his. Once I knew that he was so fat that he would just keep stuffing himself for the rest of his life, I would point that out so maybe we could sell the car and he could keep the money for his rainy day fund and that would be so much less power that he would have to do things for himself. I didn’t need my pig to get away.

“Yeah, I don’t know what happened to her. I haven’t heard from her in a long time. I don’t know if she’s in the game anymore.” There was Nick, though, who had just moved up from Tennessee and had gotten used to putting too much butter and gravy in all of his southern cooking at the restaurant though. He was interesting, a little unpolished, but as soon as his techniques got better, I think he would jump at the chance of cooking for Marco, someone who would appreciate food made with as much butter and gravy as Nick could whip together.

Two-thirds of the food was gone. At this point I would usually go into the kitchen and rinse off stuff and put it in the dishwasher while he was absorbed in stuffing his face with more food, something that happened more and more often.

Once he got over 400 pounds and lost his job because people said he was too fat, he tried to rally a little bit, but it was moving out that really broke him. You see, he used to be a guy who could benchpress hundreds of pounds so when he was packing stuff up and moving stuff out of his room, I was making great progress with my stuff and I wasn’t helping him. His parents weren’t really talking to him that much because he kept on teasing them that he was going to move out and eat whatever he wanted and they were not happy. Fortunately for me, they are not people who communicate well. They’re the kind of people that, when they’re unhappy with you, they just stop talking to you. That was supposed to make the other person want to reach out and extend an olive branch, but Marco was just too stupid and oblivious for that. So all he registered was that they just weren’t giving him shit about what he was eating anymore and that he was almost ready to leave. I had packed up most of my wardrobe, the gym equipment, some of my smaller pieces of furniture, as well as other stuff like things from Marco’s and my childhoods that our parents didn’t want anymore. They were getting older and wanted to move into a smaller place. The house they were living in was part of a really great school system that was also really expensive. Since they didn’t really need to worry about that since they were empty-nesters, they could move into a much smaller, two-bedroom place without any stairs that was closer to his father’s job, and would be the kind of place that even if their knees started to go from all of their exercise, they wouldn’t have trouble getting around the house. A smart move, I thought.

So there I was, I would fill my car with a bunch of stuff, the big items first. It was easy. I would be packing up some stuff, with help from the guys at the gym, and I was making a ton of progress. Marco insisted that he could do it himself. He had his own car. The only problem was, the last time he had done a lot of weightlifting was 200 pounds ago, back when his weight was below 200. That belly was in his way. When he would be folding up his clothes, and lifting boxes off of the ground—it ended up being some thing that was not possible for him without getting winded or frustrated. Even with creating a mobility aide, such as putting the box on the desk chair while he was still sitting on the floor, and then using the desk chair to hoist himself up off the floor, he got worn out packing up a single box over the course of an afternoon. One day, after our parents have gone to sleep, I was back from the restaurant, and I was stuffing Marco with all of the foods that had gotten returned, as well as a bunch of other stuff that I was whipping up once he finished with that. It was our nightly routine.

He came to me, despondent. I knew it was serious because he’d stopped eating and put down the food for a few minutes. He came clean that he just didn’t have the stamina right now. Maybe he was just bloated from too many celebratory freedom meals. (That’s what he was calling every meal now that he was unemployed). He told me that he just didn’t have the energy to do this anymore and he wanted to know if he could have some help from me and my gym buddies, the ones that used to be his friends. I looked at him coldly, making sure to look down at his bloated, gut and food-stained shirt. The shirt that he had been wearing at the restaurant when he got fired. The one that had been tight then and now his belly was hanging out of the bottom of. He didn’t even care. I told him that I would get him his help, but in exchange he needed to sit there, in that shirt, stuffing his face the entire time they were packing up his room and he need to apologize that he had just gotten too fat to do this kind of stuff. I told him that I wanted him to own up to the type of man he was now and come clean. That he was too fat, and too out of shape to do anything other than eat. He started to object, but I told him that if he didn’t have his shit out of here, he would be unemployed, living with his parents, and I knew he didn’t fucking want that. I had him over a barrel. He relented.

Marco was on the last tray of food today, so while I was cleaning up the kitchen, I brought out some of the snacks that got him through the morning. I placed them in front of him I along with a remote. Sometimes he got so fat and heavy after eating, that he couldn’t manage to hoist himself up for several hours. So, since we had one of those giant flatscreen TVs across the living room, he would sometimes just sit at the table, snacking on food until his bladder or his appetite forced him to hoist his fat ass up and take care of something. “Thanks man. I didn’t wanna say anything, but those four trays are starting to not cut it anymore, you know? Like I’m not hungry obviously it’s just I’m not really as full as I’d like to be.”

God he was a pig. “Yeah, I know man. I used to be heavy too. I know how good it feels to really weigh yourself down after a nice meal. I’ve got you buddy. We’ll move up to five trays starting tomorrow. That should fill you up.” I figured by the time he got to 600 pounds a year from now I would be up to six trays, which was as much as that table could hold, but I also figured at that point I might be able to condition him to just start taking most of his meals in that bariatric bed with the foldout tables, and once I got him to start eating in bed, I knew he would never get up again. Then my plan would really start.

Anyway. Moving day. This was before Nate entered the picture. I saw Nate at the bar that Marco used to go to. He was trying to coax his date into finishing another plate of fries and all I heard was this random ex jock, shouting “stop trying to fatten me up dammit!”

I knew I had found the right person.

So I talked to Nate and explained about my brother. I knew I had chosen the right person when he got this hungry look in his eyes seeing the before and after picture from a hot, sexy confident jock to this puffy blob of a man lounging on the sofa with a huge tray of food resting on his belly, because it was the only place his fat arms could reach easily anymore. Nate immediately wanted to start playing around with Marco and it helped that he worked at a bakery, a place that tends to be open in the mornings and close by dinner time so I had someone who could feed Marco while I was at work during the dinner rush. I need to keep my brother full.

I couldn’t let him get hungry and start wasting away, now could I?

I’d set it up as if Nate was someone going to culinary school who was interested in Marco and loved his confidence or whatever, which was true. I wasn’t expecting Nate to develop genuine feelings, I was honestly only thinking of creating another incentive for Marco to continue being a pig, now that I had broken him with moving day.

Nate would come over about three times a week, and they would talk on the phone a lot, Marco never really putting it together that Nate always liked call when he knew Marco was going to be eating something. Whatever boats your float, Nate. They even fooled around… occasionally, because sex with Marco tended to be more of an ordeal, or so Nate said. The bigger Marco got, the less energetic and mobile he was. The more likely he would get out of breath, of his pulse would race too much, or whatever. This meant that his partner would need to take it even slower, and do more of the work. This meant that sex was fairly rare, especially since his belly and fat pad had buried so much of his dick at this point. I knew this because I was the one who needed to wash him down there now that he couldn’t reach everywhere anymore. The lack of sex thing was nice though, because that kept Marco horny and that made him eat more. It didn’t matter though because when he had sex, he felt like that hot stud he was before, and that also caused him to eat more.

I had done most of the washing up except for the final tray that Marco had in front of him and that’s when I heard the TV flip on, which was my cue that I could head out and start doing some cardio. I’d gotten myself into peak physical condition, so at this point it was all about maintenance. I didn’t wanna look like some kind of power lifter, so fitness was more about about going to the gym to maintain and burn off steam. I had about 45 minutes before I needed to leave for work so I had enough time to run a couple of miles before I took a quick shower and throw on my work clothes. Him being done with breakfast was a good sign. I would go for my workout, come home and then start the dishwasher. “You feeling good bro?” I’d shout from the kitchen.

I just heard a few mumbled words as he tried to talk with his mouth full. I smiled. I loved how easy this was. If the old Marco had seen what he was like now, he would be horrified. The fact that he was more than double his high school weight and didn’t really seem to care was more than I had hoped.

Sometimes, at the end of the day, he was so weighed down with food and muscle atrophy that he thought nothing of letting me help him up. The idea that he struggled to hoist his fat ass out of a chair after doing nothing but eating all day, didn’t even seem to bother him. “Awesome. I’m gonna go for my run. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I walked past where he’d seated himself on his bariatric bench with the wheels, so he could easily hoist himself up. I’d managed to convince him to let me install a little rope pull attached to one of the ceiling beams right above where he sat, to help hoist himself up. He said he didn’t need it, but I noticed that he uses it pretty much every time now. I was also gonna have one right above the spot on the couch that he usually sits in so we can use that one to help with himself up off the couch when he needs it.

I took off the apron and hung it from the hook in the kitchen, revealing the running clothes underneath. It was just easier to cook in my running gear that way I could save some time. Cooking that mountain of food for him was not easy. I glanced over at him and saw that he had already finished the fourth tray and was wolfing down a bunch of the snacks already. He was insatiable. I was glad to see that he had the TV remote and the door remote if he needed them.

That was one of the things that I treated him to when he got to 450 pounds. I had gotten to be pretty senior in the restaurant since I was saving money all over the place and getting rid of food waste (Which was going to Marco) and customer satisfaction was through the roof. Being in the food industry, and the restaurant industry in my town, you get to know chefs from all the other restaurants. It’s like a brotherhood. You find yourself calling them for references and stuff like that and eventually I’d broach the subject of what do you and delivery drivers do with food that you can’t sell. Dishes that get returned and deliveries that the customer paid for but didn’t show up to accept. Situations where you order too much of something and it needs to be used today and you’re not likely to do so. Well, wanting to have less food waste, it was easiest to just give all of that food to a delivery driver and have them run it over to Marco’s place. Marco would press the button on the door remote and let the guy in, who would place all the food in front of Marco and get five to ten bucks for his trouble. That way Marco would have piles more food and the guy (or the restaurant would have 5 to 10 bucks more than he used to. It didn’t happen every day, but it was getting more consistent as pizzas and cheesesteaks or whatever would arrive and Marco would be there to stuff it down his fat face.

Anyway, I turned down at the end of my block and continue on with my run. I wasn’t really worried about my time or my pacing anymore. I’m basically where I wanna be but I do try to keep my pace at a certain level just so I know that I’m not backsliding.

I’m very curious as to how much walking it would take Marco to get out of breath, but I don’t think he has left the house more than once in the last six months. I get all of his clothes and anything else he needs. I do the grocery shopping mainly because I don’t want him to buy a bunch of shitty tasting junk food which might make him bored. Eventually, I’ll need to resort to that when his appetite is such that I can’t really do a full-time job and feed him all day. Happily, he’s not at that point yet.

So anyway, moving day. Over 100 pounds ago. Marco had his instructions and I brought some of his old friends went and seen him in a few months and I choose the judgiest of his old gym buddies and I prefaced it by saying that Marco was unrepentant, and all he wanted to do was just be a pig out and stuff his fat ass with as much food as he could. He’d gotten himself so out of shape that he didn’t even have the stamina anymore to pack boxes and move them into his fucking car. We needed to get him out of the house so we’re gonna need to do it for him. Should only take a few hours with a couple of us working together.

The stage was set. I had given Marco a fairly lean breakfast, so he was already complaining for food by the time my friends from the gym got there. He didn’t know that they were his old workout buddies and some of his old lovers. They saw Marco with his belly hanging out of his old uniform, stuffing himself with anything he could get his hands on. Apologizing for not being able to help but he’s just really bloated lately and he just doesn’t have the stamina. That it just wears him out packing up all those boxes. He played his part to a T, and he was eating slices of cheesecake with his hands, right out of the tin. He takes a messy pile and holds it out to one of the gym rats and says “do you want a slice? It’s really good!”

They look at him disgusted. “Jesus fuck dude. You’re like a fucking disgusting pig. I think you might be the fattest guy I’ve ever fucking seen. That’s all you do. Just stuffing your fat ugly face with more fucking food? I remembered when I used to lust after you. I asked you for lifting tips. The only thing you’re lifting is your fucking fork. Do you even use silverware? Are you literally just stuffing food into your face with your hands? God what the fuck happened to you. You’re such a gross pig.” Marco looked totally defeated.

Fortunately, he was so hungry, and he was so prone to eating his feelings that it just made him want to stuff his face more, and when he realized they were not going to be convinced to treat him nicely, he almost wanted to stuff his face more to antagonize them. This gave me the idea that I’m going to be presenting to Marco later today after my run. One of the other guys chimed in who have been rejected by Marco “I remember when you were the type of guy they could have whatever you wanted, but it turns out the only thing you wanted more of was food. That’s why you ended up getting fatter than everyone else and you probably can’t even fit on most of the machines at the gym. Is it true that you got fired from your job at the restaurant because you got too fat? Oh my God, that’s your uniform isn’t it? You only got fired a few weeks ago and your belly is spilling out of the uniform? Damn, you’re never gonna lose weight if you don’t treat that as a wake up call.”

Marco, spiteful, stopped eating long enough to spit out a few words “I don’t need to stop eating. I can eat whatever fuck I want to and I hope you know that even though I’ve eaten myself so fat I can’t even pack up my own shit to move out of my house, I’m gonna stuff my face the entire fucking time you’re here so you can know that your words are motivating me to get even fatter.” He pulled up his shirt and grab the newly forming roll below his flabby sagging man breasts and said “do you see this roll right here? I’m gonna stuff my face until it ends up developing even more creases and folds in my flesh. And the entire time I’m doing it I’m gonna be thinking about you. So that you know you made me even fatter and heavier.” The rejected guy, who was a little bit of a dom, was disgusted, but I couldn’t help but notice that he needed to readjust his crotch immediately after. I’d catch Sean occasionally stealing glances at Marco gorging himself after that. Even all these months later, he’d try to play it cool and ask me ‘what is that gross pig of a brother looking like now’ and ask for a pic. There was a hungry look in his eyes that I was definitely going to take advantage of when Marco had totally given up.

I had gone around a mile and a half at this point and I was just about to turn and go through the homestretch. I tried to do about a 5K before I left for work, but sometimes I didn’t have time, and I had to turn it around early. That day he ended up stuffing himself to the point that he started begging and demanding that I order pizza to come to the house, so we could continue stuffing himself with more food as they move the last of the stuff out of his room. To the guys, I acted appalled that my fat ass stepbrother would want even more food but then, when I had a moment alone, I called the delivery place and ordered three pizzas to be delivered to our parents house under his name, as if while we were outside, he was just phoned to order more food. Happily, Marco was in on the bed and fessed up for it saying that three pizzas was not even going to be enough to fill his belly and then he probably would end up ordering a few more. That he needed to get himself nice and fat for them. That was the moment where I was absolutely sure that he was a man who ran exclusively on spite. I could use that.

As it turned out, I thought, as I finished the last third of the run. Marco had overestimated his appetite. He had eaten himself into a stupor, sure. But as he rested on his bed in the new place, surrounded by boxes, he still had one and a half pizzas left over, but those would be gone within 24 hours. After that, he was vocal about asking for as much food as he wanted. It was his thing, he had decided. He would not accept less than he wanted. The weight started to climb really quickly and I decided that I wanted to make sure that he didn’t need to leave the house to get anything so when I saw his clothes were starting to get tight I replaced them with larger sizes that I would buy on the Internet and have shipped to the house. That way he never really needed to worry about whether he could find clothes. Once I knew what brands he liked, it was very easy to pick him up a new T-shirt or sweatshirt that had sizes up to 10X or the gigantic pairs of sweatpants that he would throw on.

I even created a strap, like on a messenger bag, that he could use to pull up his pants if he needed to get them up and down. Hell, sometime between 450 and 500, I managed to convince him to start doing enemas which I needed to help him with. He was already used to the concept because he needed them before when he hooked up with guys, but the fact that he couldn’t actually reach back there well enough to insert it was new. I just needed to do about 2 to 3 enemas per week and he was good to go. I had started to turn onto the block where I lived and knew I would be heading home soon and then it was rushing to work and business as usual.

The funny thing is at one point about six months after he moved into this place. It’s almost like he just gave up. He started to look at old photos of himself like it was another person. Occasionally, he would watch episodes of My 600 Pound Life and complain because those people didn’t look that fat. Six-hundred pounds didn’t look that big to him. What were they complaining about?

That was a day where he couldn’t get the momentum to hoist his fat ass up off of the couch and needed me to help pull him up and he didn’t even have the self-awareness to see that he was a morbidly obese, 23-year-old who was too fat to wipe his ass, too fat to get up sometimes, and he was stuffing himself heading for 600 pounds.

Fortunately, one of the things that he loved back when he was fit, was showing himself off on Instagram. Fortunately, for me, he’s not very internet savvy. I walked in, and he was groggily digesting the meal working his way through a pot of coffee that was sitting next to him. The table he ate at was right next to an outlet, so I just brewed the coffee there, so he could just get coffee, as well as what turned out to be weight gain shakes that filled a small mini fridge that sat on the table. That way if he ran out of food and was desperate, he had something to eat, ignoring the fact that it was basically boost in a one-gallon pitcher.

“Hey bro” I asked the blob. “Have you thought about that Mukbang thing that I was telling you about?”

“Yeah. I’m definitely going to do it. In fact, I already set up the channel and created one or two videos already. They don’t have a lot of views, but it’s early yet. It’s not hard for me just to set up a video camera here and just videotape me eating and just talking about whatever. It’s nice to actually talk about, you know, my opinions on sports and culture and whatever and that Patreon thing that allows people to give me money? That’s amazing. People are really generous with that stuff. Especially when I showed what I looked like before I started eating? The money just started pouring in. I’m getting a lot of people that’ll just pay me money to eat random stuff. If I keep this up, I might be able to make enough money to actually pay rent around here! Imagine that, being able to earn more money stuffing my face than I could serving other people! That way, any time someone dropped off some food, I can just turn that into a video. Nate even said that he would agree to doing this kind of video where one person feeds me on camera? Apparently, that’s some thing that a lot of the guys have been requesting and it would be kinda hot to be able to do a video with my boyfriend. Thanks for the idea!” I saw that he was about to try to hoist himself up to head to the couch, but his belly bumped up against the bottom of the table and knocked him back down. He glanced up at the pull rope, and then just sighed ever so slightly. He settled back down and then reached over to grab a pitcher of the weight gain shake from the fridge. He waved me away to get dressed in my bedroom, and he pressed play on the video camera to start his next Mukbang.

“Hey, everybody. Mark of the Beast here. Or MarcObese as you’ve suggested I call myself. I’m thinking about the new name. I like it. It’s better than the cheesy metal name that I thought of. Anyway, I’ve got this pitcher of really fattening protein shake that my awesome stepbrother made. He’s the one that cooks a lot of the food you see on this channel. He’s a chef at this awesome restaurant in our town. He doesn’t want me to mention the name but it’s amazing. I’m just gonna go and rant about judgmental people at the gym while I finish this shake. Buckle up guys, I have a lot to say. Now it’s probably been a while since I’ve been at the gym. I didn’t really go back after that bullshit with moving day. Fuck those guys. I’ve just been focused on eating what I want, and living my best life. I’m glad that you guys are coming along for the ride. Although I doubt that if I did go back to the gym, it would be the same one I used to go to, the ones with all those judgy bitches that were there last time. So anyway, I struggled a little bit pulling open the door to the gym because it was uphill and I was just getting a little out of breath. OK? Not a big deal. And then this judgy twig of a woman goes ‘maybe you should pick up the barbells instead of the bars of chocolate tubbo!’ And I go ‘Fuck you! I’m gonna have twice as much junk food as I was going to today, that’ll show you!’ So anyway…”

I heard Marco trailer off after I cast one glance into the living room as I saw that he had already finished about a quarter of the pitcher when I went into the bathroom, closing the door and turned on the water to take my shower. My plan was going perfectly. Once he got to about 550 pounds, it was gonna be time to move on to phase 3. I just wanted to give it a little bit more time for his Mukbang channel to become his “career”.

Once some helpful person had pointed his channel out to the gainer and encourager scene, guys from all over the world started coming out of the woodwork and being so nice to him. Giving him money just to eat food he wanted to eat anyway. To Marco, it was a dream come true. But my dreams for Marco were just getting started. The days when I couldn’t bring people home because he was taking up all the space in the living room recording his videos? That time was coming to a close, I had a feeling. The water rushed over my svelte, naked body, and I thought of how much fun I could have in that living room when Marco finally figured out why he got the big bedroom, in the place I was paying for.

///

Some time later, after Jared had quietly left, Marco shut the camera off. It was an OK video. Like a lot of his videos, he did it as a livestream where he made most of the money, release it as a video a while later, and then film a little bonus video at the same time where he would eat a little treat, based on the audience’s suggestion, and that bonus video would only be available on the Patreon. Overall, he would do about one pair of videos every day or two and between the money he made during the videos (and the money he made on the Patreon broken up per week), he ended up making about $100-$200 a week. It wasn’t much, but his channel was growing pretty quickly.

It had been a few hours since he had plunked himself down on his bench to have breakfast, and he had about a half an hour or so until people started to arrive with food for lunch. Then Jared was going to be coming back to drop off some food after the lunch rush around 2:30 or so so he had only a little bit of time before he would inevitably be woken up by someone, so he decided the best thing he could do was just put on one of the music channels on the TV and take a nap on the couch. He looked up at the rope, reached up and used all his upper body strength to pull himself up. His body felt so bloated and weighed down after eating so much, he thought to himself.

He wasn’t aware that since he overate at every single meal that heavy feeling wasn’t being bloated from his last meal, but the fact that he was growing ever closer to 600 pounds. He could feel his body shake as he waddled the short distance to the couch, and then thought better of it, and waddled back to his bedroom to go take a piss before he stretched out on the couch.

He waddled over to the toilet and grabbed the rope that was tied to a hook on the wall, and he looped it around underneath his belly, and held the loose end in his other hand, and that’s what he used to pull his belly up and out of the way, so that he could piss without pissing all over the bottom part of his belly, which sometimes was in the way now. It was another one of his stepbrother’s ingenious tricks. He was so grateful for Jared. Not having to worry about going out to buy food to fill his belly, not having to worry about cooking everything, not having to worry about rent and paying the bills. Keeping his parents off of his back? Jared ran interference about everything, so Marco could just worry about growing his channel, starting up his Mukbang business, and enjoying his life.

That done, he glanced at himself in the vanity mirror, backing up, so he could feel the tile against the soft fat behind his shoulder blades, and his large buttocks pressed against the tile. It was the only way he could take in his whole body as he saw his wide, flabby body, staring back at him. He looked at it, and smiled. Sure, he had accepted that he might be way fatter than Jared had ever been, but when Jared was fat, he looked like a flabby loser, Makos still felt like he was doing Jared a favor by making fun of him. Especially given how hot and in-control Jared had turned out. It was the push Jared needed to get the kind of life that he had now. Sure, Marco had been trying to get Jared to break his diet, but as it turned out, all of that, stuffing his face in front of Jared had given Jared the motivation to keep at it. It looked like Marco wasn’t the only one that was motivated by spite. He saw all the fat rolls and cellulite piling on top of his neck, making it so that he couldn’t really check behind him anymore because there was just too much fat on the way. He couldn’t really bend over and touch his toes anymore. When he needed to put on shoes for some reason, like, if Nate wanted to take him out for a date at a buffet, they had to be slip-ons, and he almost never wore socks. It was just too hard. He looked at his obese form in the mirror, and felt like he looked like a man was imposing and took up space. He didn’t look like the flabby loser that Jared had been, even though he was approaching twice old Jared’s size. The truth was, all of the little inconveniences didn’t really bother him because it was always only slightly more inconvenient than it had been a few weeks ago.

Maybe the extra food was catching up to him though.

He felt his leg muscles and knees protest at keeping him standing for only the few minutes it had been. He turned to the side and looked at his giant belly hanging down. His tits hanging on top of his belly like half deflated beach balls and he loved that size. He loved how much space he took up and how much his body pissed off so many people who just gave him dirty looks and words of fake concern. All of those haters on his channel were only fueling his drive. None of them were really taking care of him and thinking about what he wants, except for Jared. He was a good one. Marco shook his belly as much as he could reach. He glanced at the clock in the bathroom and noticed that he only had about 20 minutes or so before people might start knocking on the door So he waddled back to the living room, piled all of the junk food and leftovers on the table in front of and beside him on the sofa, and he went back to watching the TV, hoping that he might get lucky and open the door for a delivery driver. Before he sat down, he need to remember to grab both remotes, because it was getting harder and harder to hoist himself back up again. It was a really low sofa, he told himself. It was even tough for Jared to get off of, after he came home drunk from the bars.

End of Part 1