It's Okay To Be Fat And Like To Eat. It's Okay To Be Fat And Enjoy Cooking, Baking, Grilling, Canning,

nonsharing selfshipper experience

making the friends list post rn but i’m much much too lazy to ask for all of ur pfps thru dms rn so ur all getting sanrio charas :pp

it is a FACT there is NO such thing as a strap and there NEVER will be

ohhh u wanna suck on my strap so bad

hiromi and his huge dumb eyes and his huge dumb nose and his huge dumb dick. i hate him. (lie!!!!!!!)

his whoreish tendencies and huge nose have captivated me

oh i’m so upset

maybe in another life.

me self reblogging my posts just in case the specific mutual currently online that I think would like it hasn’t already seen it

older bf! aizawa fixing all of my daddy issues. yeeeea. yeeeeeeeeeea.

i don’t even mean sexually!! like imagine opening up to him for the first time. you’ve been dating for a while and he knew some of your familial relationships were… strained to say the least, but he didn’t know the extent of it. you’re recalling some of your experiences — maybe a specific event, maybe just an overview — and he’s humming and nodding while listening to your words, his brows knitting together in a pitying expression. you think he’s pitying you anyway, you’re kind of avoiding his eyes as you speak.

your voice starts shaking after a moment and you’re internally cursing yourself for tearing up because why are you still so affected by the actions of your father? you pause for a second, swallowing against the lump in your throat and it’s so humiliating to fall apart in front of your boyfriend like this and—

and shota places a hand over yours. his hand is rough and calloused from hero work but so warm. he’s gazing wistfully at where your skin meets, his thumb so gently grazing over your knuckles before giving your hand a small squeeze. “i’m so sorry that happened to you, baby. you didn’t deserve that.” oh and his words are just barely there, but they ring louder than what anyone has ever told you in response to your past.

your eyes meet his after he speaks. you want to snap back out of some deep seated need to defend yourself (to make yourself seem less vulnerable, less pathetic, perhaps). of course you didn’t deserve what happened to you, that’s a dumb thing to point out. that’s what you’re about to say when your lips part, but only a small, shuddering breath leaves you.

you don’t even notice the tears rolling down your cheeks until shota brings up a warm hand to wipe them away, his body leaning closer to yours to press his lips against your forehead. you want to curse at him, to push him away and storm off for even daring to see you in this state… but you don’t.

instead you wrap your arms around his middle and hide your face in his neck (shame, maybe?) and cry. you’re not sobbing, but you can’t help the hiccuped breaths that leave you when his hand slips under the hem of your shirt to run his warm palm up and down your back. he doesn’t say anything after that.

mdni!!! (≧∀≦)

UMMMMM UHHHHHHH BLAME THIS ON THIS POST AND VALE I DIDNT DO ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!

cw’s!!: light(?) petplay (sugu calls u puppy + clicker trains u hehe), very very light dacryphilia, gn! reader (no specific parts mentioned other than the fact that ur bottoming!!), husband sugu…. the loml……..

wc: 792 :3

it started off as something silly! “for positive reinforcement.” suguru had explained simply when you narrowed your eyes at his initial mention of the idea. even after that (very poor) explanation, you still weren’t completely convinced.

“i’m just worried about you, my love. we’ve exhausted every option, haven’t we? why not try something unconventional?” and you would’ve refused once again, but ohhh, the way he wrapped his arms around your waist as he spoke… he was only worried for your wellbeing, after all…

he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head after your reluctant agreement.

and honestly? it wasn’t that bad at first! you had honestly thought that he forgot about the whole thing after a week of radio silence on the topic.

it wasn’t until he got home from a full day of errands that it was brought up again.

“did you eat, pretty?” he asked softly after pressing a peck to your lips in greeting. as soon as you let out a small hum of affirmation, there was a distinct sound coming from your husbands pocket that made your eyes narrow in suspicion.

two distinct clicks.

it took you a second to realize what it was, but an annoyed huff left you when you saw the smug look on his face. fucking bastard…

“good job, puppy.” you could only push him away as he laughed and heat rose to your cheeks.

it became almost routine after that. yes, you did huff and pout a couple of times after that initial instance, but you were used to the clicker after the first week. it was the same routine every time — you did something to take care of yourself, you got two clicks and a small praise from him.

and maybe… after a while… you found yourself purposefully taking care of yourself just so he could praise you… (you weren’t very good at hiding it, he saw the way your perked up expectantly whenever you told him about something good that you did.)

the thing is: if this whole arrangement started off as an experiment, why was the small, plastic device resting in his palm while you were struggling to sink onto his cock?

“c’mon pup, you got it...” his free hand is squeezing at your hip, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft skin there (it’d probably bruise later, but that’s the last thing on your mind at the moment).

“stop-… stop callin’ me that…” your voice comes out much whinier than you would’ve liked, but who could blame you? it was always so hard to take him in this position.

your bottom lip is in a small pout and wobbling slightly in frustration, your watery eyes fixed on where you and suguru meet. he stays quiet, running his hands over your skin in a comforting gesture to ease some of the tension in your muscles (it works, of course. his touch always brought you an unexplainable sort of comfort.)

you finally take all of him a few minutes later with a small, whimpered curse, the building tears in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks when you feel the tip of his cock nudge right against that spot inside of you.

click click!

“thaaat’s it, puppy… fuck-“ a winded sort of chuckle leaves him. “— squeezed so tight when i used the clicker… you like it that much?” his hips twitch up into you involuntarily, making a strangled little whimper leave you against your will as you shake your head adamantly in denial.

“no? i must’ve been imagining things, then.” he breathes, finally starting the slow rock of his hips (of course he’d never let you do any of the work on your own!)

even so, your hips move to meet his motions while small, punched out moans escape your lips.

“there you go, puppy…” he groans softly. “takin’ me so well, so good f’me.” he’s practically babbling out praises at this point and as much as you wanted to deny it, the annoying little nickname he gave you was getting you close embarrassingly fast.

and fuck, the final thing that does you in are the godforsaken two clicks! that your brain had seemed to be specifically searching for.

his eyes are wide as he watches you unravel on top of him, the small whimpers leaving you only further confirming your puppy-like nature to your husband.

“did you just-” “shut up.” your voice is weak with embarrassment and your orgasm, but he’s quick to listen despite that.

he silently hopes he could train you to do that every time he used the clicker. how fun would that be?

making tres leches tn who wants a piece