#tw disordered thinking around food

[naavispider]

Hey, if this isn't too much of a topic for you, I wanted to ask you if you think Spider could develop some type of eating disorder. I mean, Navi's tend to be very tall and tend to be naturally thin, but they're also very athletic. It seems to me that Pająk as a human would have to work much harder than maintaining his figure + he would probably try to be as perfect as possible so as not to stand out more from the rest. I have the impression that there may be a person who looks in the mirror and thinks that he has an imperfect body, not enough muscular figure, although this is not true. I've been thinking about a situation where because of all the stress of being kidnapped, the boy is eating/vomiting even less because he's eaten until he faints. How do you think Deja Team, Quaritch, Janine etc. would react to such a situation? Or because of the guilt of rescuing Quaritch, this would have happened after he was recaptured from the RDA. Perhaps Quaritch's son would then decide to train even harder to distract his thoughts from these events. Then I'd be interested in your take on the reactions of Kiri, Norm, Jake, Loak, etc. Again, if this is too uncomfortable for you, I'm sorry, I'm just curious. I know it was in your fic, but not in such a "drastic" version. I greet you very much <3

Yesss, I actually really do headcanon Spider as having some form of disordered eating when he's with the RDA (as to be expected). Obviously, trigger warning for the discussions surrounding this topic.

Before he was taken by the RDA:

he has to eat enough to keep his body in such peak physical condition. We know he is extremely fit, he has to be to keep up with the Omatikaya. So when he's eating at Hell's Gate with the science guys I can see him just devouring every meal set in front of him (he's a 'growing boy' after all) and not thinking twice.

in my headcanon, I don't see him developing an eating disorder while growing up, but I can see why people think that, given the possible body dysmorphia he must be feeling

After he's taken by the RDA:

Food isn't offered regularly and it is not dependable. Spider can't count on when his next meal will be, and he doesn't feel like he's in a position to ask. He's also not working out as much as before. Yes, he has to keep up with the recoms, but Deja Blue are not swinging through trees or lurching through the forest like the Omatikaya. So Spider can afford to eat less. (That's what he tells himself). He is also in such a constant state of anxiety that food always makes him feel slightly sick. When he does get the chance to eat, he sort of has to force himself to do it. (The beginning of disordered thinking patterns around food)

Quaritch and the recoms might start to notice, but nothing gets done until mama Janine (x) arrives on the scene to give Quaritch a blasting. She's sad because she knows why Spider finds it difficult to eat (they all do) - there's just nothing anyone can do about it. Spider is a prisoner of war, and the stress and fear and anxiety won't go away until the situation changes, so neither will his eating patterns

When he returns to the Sullys

He's lost his appetite over the months, plus is completely used to human food, so when he has to eat from the cookfires in Awa'atlu, he is both unfamiliar with the food and unwilling to eat in any large amounts.

he feels more at ease with them than with the RDA, but then he has the guilt of saving Quaritch weighing on his mind which festers anxiety instead

so he does start to loose weight. I don't know if this would develop into a full blown eating disorder, but I guess it's very possible - especially if Quaritch ever did go through on his promise in If You Playing Me and forced Spider to eat when the kid was in danger of going on hunger strike.

food seems to be a common issue for Spider in a lot of fanfic, including my own, and it would be interesting to explore why that is. I know that for me, I'm projecting a little bit of my own relationship with food onto him 😂

[wizardnuke]

i understand this is like. objectively a wild thing to bitch about when yr average woman wants to lose weight but it is really so fucking bizarre and disheartening to be asked "how are you so skinny how do you do it" by women who are really honestly beautiful and healthy and i am genuinely so jealous of their bodies' ability to maintain some semblance of body fat. i have to say "i wish i weighed more" and they look at me like i'm crazy and then i have to say "every time i manage to gain 5-10lbs i inexplicably get really sick and lose all the weight i gained and it's a vicious cycle of never really feeling healthy" and that's not the answer they want to hear and they still don't understand why i want to gain weight and like. hhhh. makes me sad. i love you you're so pretty and i am chronically ill

[skinks]

I’m about to get such a bad grade in therapy today

[artisanalpeanutbutter]

Trying to build muscle is so frustrating bc it's hard enough to motivate myself to eat as it is but now I have to eat more protein and my stomach is too liddol for the amount of food I need in a day

Can I get an f in the chat?

[rosesradio]

.

[solis-angelus]

when the self hate gets so worse that you make eating into an act of giving up and a mark of failure and worthlessness. (previously, eating felt like something that shouldnt be done. But now you're making food, because your brain taunts that you're not worth the restraining effort anyway.)

[clearkneemomjeans]

Food shouldn't make you cry like this.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You need perfection

TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance

There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.

It's because it is.

Even to the dancers.

Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.

You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.

Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.

You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.

You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.

When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.

If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.

You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.

Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.

It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.

It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.

"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."

You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."

You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.

"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."

You pull the covers off before freezing.

"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Get out!"

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"

You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"

He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.

"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.

"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.

"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."

She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.

Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.

"How was dance?" She asks.

You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."

Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"

"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."

Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.

If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.

If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.

Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.

"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.

He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.

"Give."

You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.

"I'm heading to the studio," You say.

"I'll drive you," Alexia says.

"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."

There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.

It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.

There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.

You love it for the wrong reasons.

You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.

You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.

Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.

All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.

All you can do is dance and dance and-

You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.

You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.

This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.

You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.

She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.

"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"

"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."

Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.

Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.

You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.

"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."

"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," You say.

"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"

"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.

Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"

Your tummy rumbles.

"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."

You wince. "Mami-"

"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."

It's fine, you think.

So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.

[sun-kissy]

stars & spaghetti | r.b.

a/n: here i go again, not taking a break 😭 i swear i just needed to write this! thank you @lovemenotts for encouraging me to post it 🫶 i love you lily

tw: eating disorder recovery

Regulus knows where to find you, but he also knows better than to act like he was looking for you with two bowls of food in hand.

“Hey.”

You almost jump at the sound of his voice. You turn around from where you’re sitting on the porch, giving him a small smile. “Hi.”

His heart drops a little when he sees your face, with your sunken eyes and tired expression.

“I didn’t realize you were home already. Did you come through the back?”

He hums an affirmative, sitting down next to you on the steps leading out the house.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as you slouch onto the railing on your left, blankly staring out at the road. “How’s your day been?”

Regulus casually twirls his fork into the spaghetti in his bowl before bringing it to his mouth. Maybe he believes he’s being slick, you think, but it’s obvious that he’s got twice his usual serving.

“Today’s been fine, yeah. Just busy. How was work?”

He nods in response, “Good, actually. Mark finally sent me the files I needed to get that huge contract signed, and —” He presses his fork into the pasta again, but this time brings it up to your mouth (hoping you’re too distracted to mind).

His heart drops and how instantly you swerve backwards, almost crashing into the step behind you.

“Reg,” it comes out as a betrayed hiss. You take a shaky exhale before sitting back upright. “I don’t want any; I’ve eaten dinner already.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, I —“

“Then why’s the kitchen completely clean?”

Regulus never takes a harsh tone with you, and he wasn’t going to start now. There’s nothing but quiet, genuine concern in the way he asks. Guilt claws at the back of your throat anyway.

It was one of your worse days; thoughts of excessive calories and not having worked out being all you could think about. You’d stared at yourself in the mirror for what seemed like hours, cursing every flaw of your body and wondering why me.

Without your boyfriend home, it had just felt like there was no reason to fatten yourself.

“Hey,” Regulus mutters, laying his palm facing upwards on your lap. You take it. “You’re getting in your head again.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, lovely girl.” He reaches out to gently brush a stray hair away from your face. “But do you think you could try to eat something? Please?”

Your heart stops, and it’s like your mind is reeling back into its hiding spot already. No lies on the tip of your tongue.

“It doesn’t have to be a lot, dove, he continues quietly, rubbing your fingers. “Just a few bites. You need fuel, you know.”

Regulus is looking into your eyes with that silent look now, the one which makes you feel like he’d do just about anything to save you from yourself. You don’t think you could ever say no to him.

And it wasn’t like you’d eaten anything today. You were allowed this, for your boyfriend, right?

“Fine.”

He smiles softy and tugs you closer, stamping a kiss to the side of your forehead and picking up the bowl of pasta from beside him. “So, remember that bouquet I bought you last week?”

He starts to make casual conversation as he feeds you, and you do your best to listen. It goes all the way from those flowers were expensive! to maybe we should get a cat — or a new apartment — but NOT a dog.

The food gets lodged in your throat every now and then, but you force yourself to swallow. The ‘full’ feeling starts to creep up on you like your shadow.

Regulus can sense it. “Okay, but why the hell do you like dogs?”

You decide to indulge him and go off on a tangent about the fluffy beasts, which pulls your mind away from its dark corner. The conversation makes the chore of eating easier.

You’re sure he knows what he’s doing, but you’re going to let him anyway.

Before you know it, you’re laughing so hard you don’t even realize the bowl is empty. He stands up to put it away before you get the chance to think too hard about it.

Regulus sits back down next to you. He starts to tell you about the stars, then, and you listen intently. It’s late, but you wouldn’t know what time it is. Time didn’t exist in your little bubble.

At one point you’ve curled into him the furthest you can. Your eyelids are being pulled down by the weight of fatigue, his comforting presence lulling you closer towards sleep.

He thinks you don’t hear it when he murmurs a soft I’m proud of you. You do.

[eoieopda]

table for two | lsm

seokmin thinks recovery looks beautiful on you.

pairing: lee seokmin x reader au: established relationship, slice of life genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (sort of?) type: drabble | 860 words rating: pg-13 — minors still do not have my consent to interact. content: gn!reader; reader’s physical appearance is not described in any way; seokmin is the best of all boys; food/beer mention + consumption; seokmin’s pov. tw: reader is referenced to be in recovery (implied to be for an unnamed eating disorder) ! there are no depictions of disordered eating; however, seokmin thinks about things reader no longer does ! specifically, this references the absence of past distraction tactics (pushing food around plate, picking up a bite and setting it back down during conversation) ! seokmin notes that reader sits with him for over an hour after eating, rather than disappearing (reference to implied history of purging) ! a/n: this is deeply, deeply, deeply personal. i wrote this because i need comfort; and i am posting it publicly in case it can be source of comfort for someone else. it is based on my personal experience and may not be reflective of any other person’s experience. please review the tw’s and skip this drabble if you believe any part of this will make you uncomfortable or unsafe. if you are based in the u.s., this website has resources that may be helpful for you. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.

Seokmin is at the stove with a wooden spatula in hand when he feels your arms slither around his waist. The warmth of your cheek presses into the space between his shoulder blades, just like the tiny, contented sigh you breathe out. Without the sizzling pan in front of him, he might’ve given into the urge to go boneless; to melt into your hold, like marshmallow over a campfire.

Gooey may not be glamorous, but it’s the best way to describe how he feels around you.

“What are you making?” You mumble from behind him, curiosity evident despite how muffled your words are

He bites his lips to keep from grinning. Really, he doesn’t want to make it a big deal, but it is. This might be the first time you’ve ever asked him that question with interest, rather than carefully-cloaked dread. The first time you sound genuinely eager.

If his heart gets any warmer, it’ll burn his —

“Dakgalbi!” And even though you can’t see him do it, Seokmin wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis as he lilts, “With a special ingredient.”

You pull your cheek from its resting place, thankfully without removing your arms. He cranes his neck to meet your eyes over his shoulder just in time for you to snort, “Love?”

Well…

Honestly, it’s no surprise that you catch his cheesy joke before he can properly drop it. He’s cast this line at you a million times before — and that’s a conservative estimate. 

Seokmin paints on an exaggerated frown, blinking his wide fake-offended eyes back at you. “My halmoni’s kimchi,” he says through a pout.

You nod appreciatively, then you kiss the pout right off his face, leaving Seokmin to wonder if you’re really talking about fermented cabbage when you sigh, “The best there is.”

The distraction you create is more than welcome, but the dish he’s neglecting starts sputtering in an ominous way that demands immediate attention. Reluctantly, he turns back around to stir. Even more reluctantly, you withdraw your arms from him; your soft footsteps pad off somewhere he can’t see.

Then, he hears a cabinet open.

Then, the distinct clink of two bowls being lifted from the shelf.

Two bowls, Seokmin notes, and he’s unable to fight off a grin this time.

Once the chicken and sweet potatoes are thoroughly cooked, you reappear at his side with two bowls at the ready. Two portions are doled out carefully to avoid spilling any sauce on the counter, then two pairs of chopsticks replace the wooden spatula in his hand.

You sit together at your small kitchen table, and it feels natural now, like this is something you’ve always done. It’s not; it’s a recent development, but there’s an ease to it all now that wasn’t there before.

Seokmin’s instincts tell him to be cool about it. To not stare lovingly at you, as much as he may want to, because that spot-lighted attention would freak him out, too. But even without watching outright, he notices the thousand little hard-fought changes.

When you pick up a large bite of chicken between your chopsticks, you don’t distract with a question or joke just to set the bite back down, undetected. You chew that bite, making some thoroughly delighted sound, and then you take another one.

You don’t push the food around in your bowl, either, but eat your fill from it. Once you do, you don’t disappear. Instead, you stay put, laughing through the rest of the hour while Seokmin eats his first and second servings. You’re present, accounted for, and best of all, happy to be here.

This isn’t the first meal you’ve spent like this — Seokmin trusts implicitly that it won’t be the last — and yet he still feels pride bubble up in his chest in a way that makes his tear ducts tingle. Again, he reminds himself to be cool about it. He clears his throat, as if it’s the gochugaru affecting him and not his admiration for you, and he takes a sip of the beer you decided pairs best with the stir-fry.

Licking the excess foam from his lips, Seokmin sets his glass down and looks up at you. The echoing sip you take is earnest, rather than performative, and it’s followed by a sigh that sounds relieved.

“I love you, you know,” he states plainly.

I’m so fucking proud of you, he implies.

“I know.” You shrug, then the nonchalance gives way to a giggle. Your shoulder knocks gently into his before you lean closer and rest your head there. “Ditto.”

Seokmin rests his cheek against the top of your head. His eyes flutter shut in the comfortable silence that follows, too full and content to even think of doing dishes.

After spending a few minutes that way, you speak again — softly, because you know he startles easily: “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”

“Oh?” He asks without a clue where this train of thought is heading.

“Perfect pajeon weather. We should make some, don’t you think?”

What Seokmin thinks is that recovery looks beautiful on you.

Nodding minimally to avoid shaking your head along with his, he agrees, beaming all the while. “Perfect indeed.”

[milf-murdock]

Unsteady (Simon x Johnny x Reader)

Request: Simon and Johnny taking care of F!Reader

Summary: Simon and Johnny take care of you after you almost pass out at the pub.

TW: heavily implied disordered eating, almost passing out, mental health concerns, medication mentions (nothing specific but could be read as ADHD medication side effects).

A/N: Hi anon! Thank you so much for your request and your kind words! I'm choosing not to publish the ask because I think there are some triggering words that I won't be able to hide under a "read more" line, but I hope that you enjoy this and find some comfort in it.

As someone who has also struggled with EDs in the past, please, please, please do not be afraid to ask for help. There is nothing glamorous about eating disorders. They absolutely need to be taken seriously.

Instead of going the full ED route with this one shot, I took it down a slightly softer path and based it off of my experience with ADHD and how it has led to me accidentally missing meals.

The din of the pub faded into the background as you sat in the corner booth of your favorite pub. You were pressed up against Simon’s bulky frame, one of his strong arms wrapped around your body, keeping you tucked in close. Johnny sat across the booth, taking in his favorite view: you wrapped up in Simon—his two loves, his whole world sat right across the table from him. 

Your empty glass clinked against the others as your set it on the table. “Looks like we’re ready for another round,” you said, smiling up at Johnny. 

“Mm, that it does,” Johnny smiled back at you, and you felt like you could absolutely drown in those ocean eyes. 

“You tryna get us drunk or something, love?” Simon teased, lips pressing against your collarbone. 

“Something like that,” you laughed, turning your head meet his lips for a quick kiss. “Here, I’ll go, order them” you reasoned, being on the outside of the seat and closest to the bar. “Be right back.” You pushed yourself from the booth to your feet, and instantly the entire room started spinning.  Damn, you thought to yourself. That beer is hitting fast. You went to take one tentative step, and then the room started to tilt, the floor coming up at you fast. 

Johnny was out of his seat in an instant, having picked up immediately something was wrong from the moment you stood up. His two large hands reached out to steady you, catching you in his arms. “Easy now,” he grunted,  bracing you both. “I’ve got ye.” He gently lowered you back into the booth, letting your weak form lean up against Simon. Simon’s hands instantly held you against him, supporting you. At the edge of the booth, Johnny got down on one knee so he could be eye level with you. 

“Look at me, hen,” he coaxed. “What’re you feeling?” Johnny grabbed one of the ice waters from the table and gingerly helped bring it to your lips. 

You blinked, trying to get your bearings. The room finally stopped spinning. “M’fine,” you mumble before taking a sip of the water Johnny offered you. The icy cold liquid helped clear your mind. “Just got a bit dizzy.”

Johnny and Simon exchanged knowing glances. 

“What’ve ye had to eat today, lass?” Johnny’s voice was gentle, prodding, but his eyes were a dead giveaway to the concern and hurt he was feeling, already knowing the answer. 

“Umm, I’m not really sure,” you stepped around the question, your voice hesitant. “I think I had a banana this morning?” 

Simon let out a resigned sigh. “I’m assuming that would be half of a banana,” he corrected. “Considering I found the remaining half still in the peel on top of the dresser.”   

You eyelids fluttered shut, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Oh.” You let out. “Yeah, I went in there to grab one of your jumpers and I must have forgotten it.” 

It happened all the time, you getting distracted mid task. It had gotten even worse since one of the side effects of your medication was a suppressed appetite. You never did have quite a good relationship with food to begin with though. 

“And what about lunch?” Johnny continued his prodding. 

You bit your bottom lip, a nervous habit of yours. Wincing, you reply with a mumbled “forgot.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as shame flooded through you. 

At this, both men let out a sigh, completely in synch when it comes to their concern for you. 

“Love, we’ve been over this,” Simon started before being cut off. 

“M’sorry.” Despite your best efforts, a couple tears started to slide down your face. 

Johnny pulls you into his arms. “S’okay, Bonnie,” he soothed, running a hand up and down your back. 

“S’not okay, Johnny,” Simon snapped from the other side of you. “She needs to be eating.” 

Johnny shot Simon a glare. “I know that, Si.” He took a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple, your head buried against his chest. “He’s right though, bonnie. Ye need to be eating.” 

His hand slid up to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I know,” you whined, fidgeting under his piercing gaze. 

Simon scooted closer across the booth, a strong hand coming to rest against your back. 

“We just need to know you’re taken care of, love,” Simon began to rub his hand in a soothing circle. “Specially knowing we can’t always be here to take care of you ourselves.” 

“I know,” you sighed, feeling yourself shutting down. 

Simon and Johnny exchange another glance, Simon giving a short nod of approval signaling to back off for now. 

“Just promise us you’ll try,” Johnny pleaded. “For us. Please?”

You nod, sniffling. 

“I promise,” you sighed softly. “I’ll try harder.”

Johnny gave you a crooked smile, a favorite of yours. “Atta girl.” 

Simon pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “Now let’s go get some dinner, love. How’s that sound?” 

“It sounds…” you trailed off.  “Well, I don’t really feel that well.” 

Simon nodded his head knowingly. “Well that’s cause you’ve hardly eaten today.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Probably.” 

“Something easy then,” Johnny stated matter of factly. “Perfect weather for soup. Think you can manage that, dove?” 

You gave a small nod and let Johnny transfer you over to Simon’s strong arms. 

“Aye, good lass,” he gave you a quick peck. “Si, get our girl home and I’l go pick it up.” 

“Affirmative,” Simon agreed, giving your hip a quick tap to encourage you to try to get on your feet again. 

Johnny stood up and offered you a hand to help you up, Simon’s hands never leaving your hips until they were both certain you weren’t in danger of passing out on them.  

“I’ll see you both at home,” Johnny quipped, giving both you and Simon a quick kiss on the cheek before going to pay the tab. 

Simon helped you shrug into your coat and the two of you made your way out to the brisk Manchester air. 

An hour later, empty takeaway containers littered the coffee table in the living room as you laid on the couch with your loves. You were pressed up against Simon, leaning up against him, tucked under his arm. Your legs were sprawled out across Johnny’s lap, his calloused hands giving you the most delightful foot massage. 

“Y’know we love you, right?” Johnny’s voice broke the silence that had settled over the three of you. 

“I know,” your voice was low. 

“We just worry about you, love,” Simon urged, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. 

“I promise I’ll try to be better.” You sighed softly. “I love you both so much.” 

“We love you too, lass.” Johnny leaned forward to give you a kiss. 

“So much,” Simon finished, pressing another kiss to your exposed neck. 

[temis-de-leon]

Tw: dark themes (mentioned prostitution, sex trafficking and eating disorders), my general opinion on sins and demons (related to what I've learned in school and my family's beliefs) and very ooc OM! cast.

Obey me should be 18+. Obey me should be bloody and vicious. Mc's presence would be so much impactful if only the demons behaved like demons and the angels behaved like angels. If Solomon was an almost forgotten king living amongst dark creatures with no crown on his head.

When i think of Solomon i think of that story where two mothers were arguing about a living child. He offered giving each of them one half of the baby.

Where's that Solomon?

Why does Mammon keep spending money? True Greed lives within those parents that choose witnessing their child in pain over paying expensive medicine. Those people that bought one pair of leather boots ten years ago and refuse to buy something new because everything is "too expensive" nowadays. Mammon should be selfish and bitter, criticizing everyone's spending habits, not encouraging them.

But Mammon's greed represents having everything and more, you may say.

Well then, if he wants to have everything and more, why does he gamble? Does he expect to win every single time? I'm not convinced.

And Beel shouldn't be hungry all the time. On the contrary, he should be full. He should be eating without really having the need to do so. Food is not a coping mechanism for Gluttony, it takes the whole meaning of sin away. Beel should eat because he can do it and because he wants to do it. He should be eating until he feels sick and then keep eating because, why not? The food is delicious and it's right there.

And on top of that they're demons. Mystical beings dedicated entirely to temptation and punishment.

In obey me they're all bark and no bite (except lesson 16 and maybe Lucifer sometimes).

Give me some violence. Give me the gore that comes with living in hell. Give me a mentally unstable MC that truly shouldn't survive the exchange program. Demons all around are obsessed falling in love with them. Give me a true reason and not plot armor.

Envy and Pride are so close. Levi should be as ruthless as Lucifer. Greed and Lust? Prostitution and sex trafficking would put Mammon and Asmo on top of the food chain.

Tell me why Diavolo is more powerful than Barbatos.

Tell me how Luke is still alive.

Masterlist

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 24: comfort food

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

TW: This is fluff, but I think it might lean more into a hurt/comfort trope. Also, it's hinted that the reader is dealing with depression, so if you're sensitive to the topic, you might want to skip this day!!

Hugs to all the people who are going through a tough time. I suffer from this disorder myself and I know it's complicated, but things can always get better. It's a great day for you to live and I love you

Spencer was in the kitchen, silent. He couldn’t help but notice that you had been feeling quite down in the past few days. Although he had his suspicions, he hadn’t dared to ask you directly. The clearest sign was your constant desire to stay in your room, only coming out for strictly necessary reasons. It wasn’t that he was the type to notice those things, but he picked up on even the subtlest details. You hadn’t showered, or at least not that he had seen. The accumulation of small signs was what worried him.

What could he do? It would be too intrusive to just knock on your door and ask for an explanation. He had no right to demand something like that from you, and invading your privacy would be a mistake. He knew that forcing a conversation wasn’t the solution, especially with you. However, worry gnawed at him from the inside. He wanted to see you smile again, or at least for you to come out of your shell. He thought and thought about how to approach you without seeming intrusive until an idea struck him: prepare breakfast. It was something that wouldn’t seem intentional or accusatory. Besides, if you didn’t feel like talking, you could simply take the food back to your room.

He knew how much you loved waffles; so much so that after several discussions about how much you spent on boxes of Eggos, you both had decided to invest in a waffle maker. Spencer didn’t consider himself a professional chef, but he could manage the basics. With determination, he got to work.

While he whisked the batter, he didn’t realize you had come into the kitchen until he turned around and saw you sitting at the dining table.

“Hi!” he exclaimed, somewhat surprised to see you there.

“Are you making waffles?” you asked, trying to look over his shoulder. “I could recognize that smell anywhere.”

As he observed you, Spencer noticed the traces of crying on your face. He said nothing; instead, he approached with a plate and gently set it in front of you.

“You’ll have the privilege of eating first. Just because you came over,” he said with a warm smile.

You made a small grimace; it wasn’t quite a full smile, but it expressed gratitude. You knew he wasn’t an idiot and had noticed your absence. Still, you felt at peace that he hadn’t pressured you to talk. On the plate, besides two freshly made waffles, there were blueberries scattered on top. Spencer also offered you jam, hazelnut spread, and honey so you could enjoy your breakfast however you wanted.

“Did you make coffee?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something light.

“Hot oat milk,” he corrected you. With the same care, he placed a cup in front of you. “Did you know that drinking oat milk in the mornings is beneficial? It provides sustained energy, improves digestion thanks to its fiber, helps regulate blood sugar levels, and reduces bad cholesterol, so to speak. Plus, it’s rich in essential nutrients like B vitamins, iron, and magnesium, which support good overall health.”

“But it smells like coffee,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’ll drink coffee; you’ll have hot oat milk”

You sighed, slightly offended by the distinction. When you asked why, he simply said he wanted you to stay healthy. Although he didn’t say it explicitly, his eyes said it all: he was worried about you. Despite that, you didn’t want to talk about what was going on. You knew he would understand everything you were going through, but you were exhausted—too tired to express how you felt.

The first bite of the waffle tasted heavenly; it was the first thing you enjoyed in days. “Do you have something for today?” he asked cautiously, trying to initiate a conversation. You shook your head. “If you’re up for it, maybe we can go out somewhere. Anywhere you want,” he suggested, hoping that would cheer you up.

“You don’t like being around people,” you replied softly, looking at him with a hint of irony.

“We can go to a place where there’s no one. Or we can just go to a park... I don’t know, wherever you feel like.”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him suddenly. From the tone of your voice, he thought he might have done something wrong. “I really appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but honestly, I don’t have the energy to go anywhere. And please, don’t pity me. I know it sounds strange, but I just want you to keep seeing me as your friend, okay? I’m not what I’m going through; it’s just... a setback,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “I came here because I want to be with you. Being here distracts me from everything else. So please, I beg you to treat me like you always have. I’m still me.”

“I didn’t imply otherwise,” he said softly. “I just thought we could do something to lift your spirits.”

“This... you making my favorite food and having breakfast with me is what makes me feel better,” you confessed with a sincerity he appreciated.

Spencer was touched by your words and nodded gently.

“Do you want to talk about something?” he offered with the same patience as always.

“Not right now. Maybe later.”

“Do you want more waffles?”

“One, please.”

“Do you need a hug?”

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned slightly toward him, and Spencer understood the message immediately. You knew you could trust him; he would never judge you. So why was it so hard for you to speak? Why did the words get stuck in your throat?

You wanted to cry, but it was as if all your tears had run dry. Instead, you clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body and the thudding of his heart. You just stayed there, leaning against him, letting his comforting scent and closeness soothe you.

“Thank you for being such a good friend. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you,” you murmured, trying not to sound broken.

“Psh, don’t say that,” he gently scolded you. He still had you in his arms. “Whenever you need me, I’m just a hallway away.”

For the first time in days, you laughed. That’s what you liked about him: the trust he gave you, even though he considered himself insecure. The bond between you had strengthened thanks to sharing so many everyday things.

“The waffles... they’re so good. What did you put in them?” you asked suddenly, pulling away from him and wiping your cheeks out of habit, even though you hadn’t shed a single tear.

“I used the classic recipe, but I added extra banana and nuts to give them a different texture.”

“I hate bananas!” you exclaimed, with a spark of enthusiasm in your voice. “How do they taste so good here?”

“You see, it all comes down to a chemical matter in the properties of food when they combine...” he began to explain, launching into one of his usual dissertations about things you didn’t quite understand.

But you stayed listening attentively because the sound of his voice was more comforting than anything else that crossed your mind. Sometimes, having a roommate like Spencer was all you needed to make those tough moments more bearable.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hcs for a Tav who grew up being starved/neglected. Maybe their parents were poor or they were an orphan on the street. They don’t hoarde too much food but they don’t eat in front of others. And rarely take enough. And they refuse to shower near the others or camp super close to them. They’re almost always on alert and are really bad at self care. They’re always dirty, hair a mess. They kind of smell. And they are also ashamed of the fact no one taught them how to take care of themselves???

For Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Wyll? ^_^

Thank you!

A/N: Oh Nonnie, I feel this! I was a child of divorce and at one house we were very disciplined and had routines for self-care and homework and everything. But the other house was chaotic and full of resentment and neglect. It’s so odd how something 20+ years ago can still affect you today, but it absolutely can. 💚

For some resources on having to figure things out as an adult, may I recommend the “How Do I Dad?” YouTube Channel and the r/InternetParents subreddit? Those are the two I like the best atm. Also remember, Google is your friend. Whenever I want a real person to answer, I usually type in my question with a plus sign then Reddit (+reddit) which will pull up real user’s threads from Reddit about the subjects you’re Googling. It’s one of the last platforms I think is usable in that way. So that's why I do that. Then again, I’m old and might just miss the old ppl’s Internet. 

Anyway, on to the ask!

…

TW: Mentions of Past Neglect, Disordered Eating, Food Insecurity

...

🧼️ HCs for Neglected!(GN)Tav With Astarion, Halsin, & Wyll 🛁

Astarion: 

Okay, he’s kinda a dick about it at first. He doesn’t mean to be. Well, I mean, yes he meant to make those petty comments, but he wouldn’t have made them if he knew about Tav’s past circumstances. Once Tav lets it slip they’re bad at self-care because no one ever taught them, Astarion immediately feels a sense of kinship. 

He was a magistrate before Cazador captured and turned him, and he considered himself to be a man of some luxury, but after being taken that all changed. He lived in filth, he was fed filth, by the hells, Cazador saw him as filth. He knows what it feels like to be seen as worthless and to have to survive in meager conditions. He wants Tav to understand none of it is their fault. They had no control over their circumstances. He tells Tav to never apologize for the way they had to live in order to survive. 

The first thing he offers to help Tav with is bathing and dressing. When Cazador let him out to lure victims, Astarion perfected disguising his undead scent over the decades. Part of it was using oils and perfumes, and another part was choosing the right attire. He’ll find the right kind of soap and cleansing oils for Tav's skin and hair type, insisting they get only the best the markets of Baldur’s Gate have to offer. If Tav can’t afford it, who cares? He’ll just sneak around the merchant and steal it while Tav distracts them. Or Lazel, if Tav refuses to do something so morally questionable.

He doesn’t really pick up on Tav’s refusal to eat with the others, mainly because Astarion also doesn’t eat with the others. But if Tav requests, Astarion will gladly sit and gossip with Tav as they eat their meal, away from everyone else. 

Astarion might suggest the party visit an inn or a bar one night, and encourage Tav, in his way, to let their guard down and eat around the others. He wants Tav to practice consuming food in the presence of their other friends. Astarion believes it’ll do two things: 1) It’ll prove to Tav, that it’s safe to eat in their company and 2) It’ll reinforce what Astarion’s been saying to them, that there’s nothing wrong with the way they eat. Even if they scarf their food down or eat with their hands or burp extra loud- who cares? Karlach practically inhales three portions in a single bite. Gale won’t shut up while he eats, so he’s always talking with his mouth full. And Shadowheart takes the tiniest bites imaginable, meaning she takes fricken forever to finish a single plate. Everyone has their own style, and Tav’s is nothing to be ashamed of. 

If Tav and Astarion are especially close or if they’re dating, Astarion will even offer to help Tav wash up. Not because he wants to see them naked, or to have sex, but because he really wants to shower them in affection. He’ll gently massage their shoulders as he works the cleansing oils into them. He’ll help them balance, bending backward as he washes their hair, gently using the very tips of his sharp nails to scratch their scalps. It feels heavenly, and it’s a great intimate, non-sexual way for the two of them to grow closer. 

It may be true no one was there to take care of either Astarion or Tav in the years past. But now that they’re together, the two of them can take care of each other. 

Halsin: 

Halsin prefers to live amongst nature as opposed to city dwellings, so he’s more accustomed to roughing it than the others may be. That being said, he’s not unclean, or unkempt- he keeps himself very well groomed (as one must do when they tend to ask to bed anyone and everyone they come into contact with for more than five seconds). He assumes Tav is just more accustomed to frequent bathing at first. Not everyone is as fortunate as he is. But he begins to suspect something the more the days go on, and Tav’s appearance and demeanor don’t change. 

He’ll try casually inviting Tav to come bathe with him. He knows the perfect spot just beyond the Grove, that’s secluded but not too small, that would well accommodate both of their bodies. He suggests this regardless of whether he and Tav are dating or not. If Tav is hesitant, he apologizes for being forward and kindly explains he just wanted to present Tav with the opportunity to take some time for themselves. When Tav breaks down in front of him, explaining why they’re so upset about the idea of grooming and self-care, Halsin is immediately sympathetic.  He listens intently as Tav gets their fears off their chest. 

Once Halsin understands Tav’s situation, he’ll take them into his tent, and show Tav his collection of soaps and brushes and oils. Halsin explains how he prefers to use each one, before gifting them to Tav to keep for themselves. When Tav protests that it’s too much, Halsin puts a hand up to stop them. He can always buy new items. Besides, he’s learned how to make the most of what only Mother Nature has to offer. He can manage without fancy cleansers and bristles for a time. Tav deserves them more. 

Halsin might even offer Tav some clothes if he has any that wouldn’t be too difficult to tuck or take in, as he’s a very tall man. With Tav’s permission, he might even ask Shadowheart Lazel or even Astarion if they have something they could spare for the time being, if Tav is too embarrassed or shy to ask for themselves. 

He offers to keep watch and guard Tav as they bathe, promising not to look unless Tav asks them to. If the two are dating, Halsin will assist them, helping Tav scrub down, and removing all the dirt, grime, and dead skin before washing them in the water. If the two are only friends, Halsin keeps his promise of not looking at Tav until they are dressed again. He’ll help detangle and braid Tav’s hair, taking care not to pull too hard on any knots. The whole ordeal leaves Tav feeling rather pampered. 

As far as eating goes, Halsin will always offer to share any meal he catches while the party is camping together, which is how Halsin notices Tav’s different eating habits. Halsin swears that as long as he is well and able to hunt and gather food, Tav will never go hungry in his presence. Halsin assures Tav that it’s okay to eat full, rather than stockpile most of their meals for later. It’s much more important to eat for energy now, rather than wait to eat later. It keeps one’s energy levels stable and helps to reduce any unintentional food waste as things tend to spoil sooner rather than later. 

Halsin takes it upon himself to become a provider of sorts for Tav, the one Tav never had. He plans to lavish Tav with so much attention and care, that those wounds caused by years of abandonment and neglect have no choice but to close. 

Wyll: 

Wyll is a bit awkward about it in the beginning. Not because he intends to be rude, but because he’s unsure of how to approach the subject with Tav without sounding like a snide ass. If it were any other companion, he might have made an offhand comment days ago, but when it comes to their leader, Wyll holds much more admiration and respect. So, Wyll holds his tongue until things become a bit more apparent, and he believes he knows the most sensitive way to navigate them. 

When everyone sits down to eat, Wyll asks Tav if they’d like to join them. He does this every evening, hoping Tav will eventually say yes. If Tav still doesn’t bite, he’ll come to them, and ask if he could sit next to Tav as they eat. Wyll makes a casual conversation between bites, trying to bring Tav out of their shell. If there's still no change, Wyll opens up about being on his own, having been kicked out of his home as a young man. He reveals how for the first few years he was often hungry, tired, and cold- being forced to move around from place to place outside of Baldur’s Gate without the proper supplies to fend for himself or keep himself dry. This prompts Tav to open up a bit about their past- how they also had to survive on their own, and now, as an adult, they don’t know how to do anything other than ‘survive’. 

Wyll is, of course, empathetic. Tav may not have come from a noble background like Wyll did, but that’s no excuse for all Tav had to endure, especially as a child. Wyll tells them he’s sorry Tav had to live through all that, and makes it very clear that it was in no way, Tav’s fault. They were just a kid, they should have been protected. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. They didn’t fail, other people failed them. 

Wyll had to learn how to do many things on his own, and he thinks it would be best for him to share all he’s learned. One night he sits with Tav at dinner, encouraging Tav to eat, as Wyll tells them how he learned where to stay, how to get work, when to leave, and where to train. 

Together, Wyll and Tav come up with a list of items Tav most likely needs for self-care. All the while Wyll does his best to ensure Tav doesn’t feel judged for lacking such things. Again, Wyll reminds them, it’s not their fault. And there’s never any time to start like the present. If they’re close enough to a market, Wyll will take them there, and help Tav purchase everything they need. However, if they’re somewhere without vendors, say the Underdark or the Shadowlands, Wyll will approach a party member for assistance. 

Out of all of the companions, Wyll asks Astarion if he has any extra cleansing soaps or oils because Wyll knows Astarion’s the most high-maintenance party member amongst them lol. Once Wyll secures those items, he gifts them to Tav, and lets them know he’d be happy to stand guard while they bathe. Wyll plants himself midway between the camp and the river, giving Tav ample space. Wyll would feel being too close to them, in this manner, at this point, even if he and Tav were in a relationship, would be inappropriate. 

Once Tav is bathed and dressed, Wyll escorts them back to the fire. As Tav’s hair dries, Wyll regales them with much more upbeat stories, tales of his times as the Blade of Frontiers. His battles and triumphs, his rescues and saves- all of that. He wants Tav to know he has their back. Wyll is capable of protecting Tav, and he intends to do it in a way where Tav never has to feel abandoned or forgotten again.

...

💚💚 Don't Forget to Like & Please Reblog!!! 💚💚

[operationandre]

heavy tw

been thinking about this for a while… binge disorder andre.

he stays on a diet during the day, bringing his own lunch to school and watching his calories all the time. his obsession with food is always blamed on being an athlete. whenever anyone asks him about it, he mentions some nutrition book he read or a diet a favorite runner of his has. he works out nonstop, even at home. he’s constantly doing push-ups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks in his room.

when darkness falls, he starts eating. he sits out in the kitchen while mel meows at his feet for food. there have been nights where andre is crying while eating and begging himself to stop, but he can’t. he feels disgusting after, often throwing up or working out until he has to start getting ready for school.

there’s a scale by his bed, right by his nightstand. he checks it every morning and bases his entire day around it. he’s passed out multiple times during track practices and meets, but he convinces himself it’s because he’s been eating too much.

it’s a vicious cycle. he can’t escape it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tried to covertly exclude one of my friends from game nights ? 🎮🎧📞

tw: disordered eating, self harm

I've got a discord friend group of about 15 people though only 10 or so are regularly active and game nights often are usually around 6 people but they rotate who participates often. We're all in the 20s and mostly nonbinary / genderqueer / trans one way or another. I'm 25 ftm personally (they them) and the friend this is about in particular is 22mtf (she/they).

Friend is really excited to hit the 1 year marker in her transition and loves sharing how excited she is about her progress - how strangers at her job are gendering her correctly more and more often, how her cup sizes are growing, how much weight she's lost, wardrobe updates, getting to learn girl things from their very supportive mom, etc etc etc. It's all very exciting, I remember hitting my 1 year marker and i'm genuinely really happy for her.

The thing is I struggled with disordered eating in the past. Several others in our friend group have as well and it's something we've talked about both in related and unrelated convos to this issue. Friend keeps an excel spreadsheet with her measurements from bust to hips to weight and will update us frequently whether we've expressed interest in hearing the exact numbers or not. Exact Numbers was one of the things I kept track of and hearing her tracking them (for very different reasons) will often set me off and i'll start taking more and more unhealthy actions, falling back into disordered habits.

Friend has adhd and very poor impulse control. She often joins conversations and talks over people, completely changes conversational topics on a dime, or forgets who is in a call at any moment and brings up someone's triggers. She'll almost always apologize if someone mentions a social mistake she's made, but because the weight/food intake/number watching is so important to them as a way to track their transition it's the one thing that keeps coming back and back and back. I and the others have tried talking in voice calls, mentioning in text chats in the group and even DMing her but because of the topic and this group being the friend group she feels safest in (we were all the first to know and hyped them up on the hrt journey) these are some convos she only gets to have here

and because of the topic, i feel rude or embarrassed when I have to say "hey can we not talk about this right now or i'm gonna have to leave". So on most nights if it comes up I'll just deafen / go afk / just zone out entirely until the conversation has passed. If it doesn't seem like it's going to or they are so in depth that it's genuinely triggering a self harm response i'll fully leave instead so she can keep having her fun and get excited

Game nights are different though

I'm usually the host of game night and so can pick when we play our silly little games. Obviously people can and do still hangout and do things together Not on specific game nights, and we all do, but game nights are my thing. We play party games over discord or multiplayer competition games or lately have been getting into games like content warning and lethal company when there's 4 or sometimes 5 of us (either someone wants to hang out but only watch or we rotate around who plays round by round)

Friend is often working in the evenings and so bc this is an online friend group they don't actually know my work schedule. We usually only have about half the total number of participants be around for game night anyways, so I've been thinking of occasionally lining up game nights for nights when she's mentioned being busy by saying i work the other nights - but only sometimes. I do really like friend. She can be so much fun to hang out with, excitingly competitive and with interesting knowledge to share and generally a good sport no matter the actual game we're playing. But sometimes the worry about the triggering and the trigginering itself are too much. sometimes i just can't handle when she does it and knowing i can't leave and asking her to stop expressing her joy makes me feel like an asshole anyways so i don't want to be around it.

To be clear. I do not think they are an asshole. Friend is genuinely one of my friends. I like her and hanging out with her. they do not trigger me (or any of the others w this same trigger) maliciously. this is solely would I be the asshole.

TLDR: My friends way of tracking her transition sometimes triggers my eating disorder. would I be the asshole for planning game nights that I host and cannot leave / tune out conversations during so that she cannot attend as often in hopes that I am not triggered as often?