It’s cooked with love… you think.
You watch Laios skin and dice the creature, carving meat off the bone. He does something to it in the pan that makes it smell incredible instead of just raw and dead.
When he’s done, he picks up a perfectly neat square. It’s still steaming, doused in the sauce he’s somehow managed to whip up in this hellhole.
He touches it to your lips, first. Let’s the heat and tenderness of it permeate your skin. You’re slow to open you mouth for him, in a daze as you half-listen to his rambling. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s making too much eye contact as he presses the morsel to your tongue. It’s exactly the right size, a nice little bite, but his fingers stretch your cheeks ever so slightly. His fingertips brush against the flat of your tongue. They feel lead-heavy, though he’s not using any force at all.
“It’s sweet, right; Isn’t that interesting?”
You’ve forgotten how to taste, the sensory details lost among the overload. You move your tongue, bowing lightly around him and the meat, wanting to ask him to finally take his fingers out of your mouth, wanting him to stay here, longer, forever.
He’s looking at you with stars in his eyes and he doesn’t even realize, can’t tell that you’re squirming, barely holding yourself back from doing… something. You’re not sure; you feel like a monster yourself, all pent up and cornered, all liable to lash out.
He’s smiling at you, going on about habitats and natural cycles. He’s petting your tongue, lightly, on the edges, nearly flush against your teeth. He must not realize he’s doing it, a motion devoid of purpose or meaning. And you can’t help it—
You bite.
Not hard enough to sever, not even hard enough to break the skin. But you can tell it hurt from Laios’ flinch, from the way his tirade has stopped right in the middle of a sentence.
You think he’s about to draw away, watch him gear up for the movement. You feel the ghost of a touch against your canines, the teeth that just sunk into him. He’s feeling them, testing their sharpness, their length.
“Oh…” he murmurs, and you’re not sure he even meant to say it, you’re not sure what he’s doing now.
When he finally (finally) pulls back, his fingers are glistening with your spit. There are red marks just beneath the knuckle where you bit him.
He seems unfazed by all of this, just picks up another piece, holds it out to you expectantly. You open your mouth for him, because what else could you do?
He watches the corner of your mouth, flinching at the faintest glimpse of your canines. He’s blushing.
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The way that Rhett just has so much odd shit on him at all times.
On your first date, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hunk of jasper. In the middle of a store, he reached into his shoe and pulled out a broken ruler; said something about forgetting that he put it there and meant to throw it away. Your friend was musing about how ridiculous coin collecting is, and he, for some reason, had a rare penny lurking in his shirt pocket.
More than once, you've turned around and caught him chewing on something he didn't have before. Boiled peanuts, hard candy, gum. He'll offer you some, but it's always warm from being snug against his body all day. At an obscure diner outside of Wabang, Rhett suddenly pulled a gift card out. He'd been carrying it for two years by that point, and he's still got it because there's a dollar and some change left on it.
There's a packet of salt that came in handy when you were given the blandest fries the earth has ever seen. Amy gave him a charm when she was three, and he's still carrying it around. He's got a key that goes to something on the ranch, but nobody remembers to what. You forgot a bracelet in his truck and only realized he had it when you saw it around his wrist. For safekeeping, he said.
You found a little pony figurine in the grass, and it spent a month riding in his shirt pocket until it jumped out and briefly became lost. Now, it sits on a shelf in the bedroom. Amongst all the other trinkets that have spent time hauling around with your beloved cowboy.
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As a biochem student and certified nerd, I feel the responsibility to bestow this knowledge upon as many people as I possibly can:
You do NOT need to "earn" meals through exercise.
You know why?
Because exercise only accounts for about 20% of your calories. The majority of the calories your body burns, it uses to keep itself alive. It uses them to power your brain and metabolism. In fact, your brain ALONE is responsible for spending about 20% of your calories.
Your BRAIN, just to keep itself going, uses up just as many (or even more!!!) calories than all the exercise you do.
Your RESTING metabolic rate is responsible for burning between 60 and 75% of your calories.
You don't just deserve food because you're working out. YOU DESERVE FOOD BECAUSE YOUR BODY NEEDS IT TO STAY ALIVE.
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today’s family debate is bagels. so, I’ll ask the question:
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