cheek meat

anonymous asked:

Okay but i swear to you i will sacrifice my entire being for someone to write that pens!bitty fic or one shot. I need like air

(Alright, you monsters, I did this one, but I’m not great with RPF so this is probs it for Pens!Bitty <3  tw for concussion)

A sprained ankle here, a blown ACL there, and Bitty’s on the Penguins starting line flanking Sidney Crosby like it’s nothing. Like it’s no big deal he’s racking up assists left and right for the man who is going to displace two of Bad Bob’s career records this season. Like Eric didn’t have a debilitating fear of physical contact less than five years ago and is now playing for a team defending a championship title.

From behind, Sid looks like Jack. Or at least he has Jack’s ass, which is a hell of a thing to realize after being slammed into the boards. He’s disoriented enough to ask, “Jack?” when his captain skates up to check on him.

“Bittle, you okay?“

Eric blinks and the illusion is gone. No Jack, no Samwell, just the Pittsburgh Penguins beating the snot out of the New Jersey Devils. And the Devils beating the snot out of Eric.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Eric says, pulling himself to his feet and blinking through a blossoming headache. “You know you look a lot like Jack Zimmermann from behind?”

“Better not be a crack about my ass, Bittle,” Crosby elbows him lightly, herding him back to the bench.

Aboot,” Eric echoes, “I wouldn’t joke about your ass, Captain. Special kind of cheek meat.“ 

That didn’t come out right…and why are the lights so bright? Are they always this bright?

Crosby slides to a stop and Eric bumps right into him. “You sure you aren’t concussed?” Though he’s asking, Eric can clearly see Sid waving over a trainer. Eric takes a moment to reflect on his situation, what he’s just said to his teammate.

“No, but you really look like my boyfriend.”

“You just said I look like Zimmermann.”

“I know. Jack Zimmermann looks like my boyfriend.”

Crosby connects invisible dots in midair with his finger. “I look like Jack Zimmermann, who looks like your boyfriend, who looks like me.”

“Yes. No?”  That sounds right. Kinda.

“Bittle. Do I look like your boyfriend from behind?”

Eric nods, even though the motion makes his world tilt sideways.

“I look like your boyfriend, Jack Zimmermann, from behind.”

“Yes.” Wait. That’s a secret. “Shit, that’s a secret.”

“Fuck, yeah, you’re sitting this period out, buddy.”

Malkin slides up beside Crosby and gives Eric a once over. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Got his bell rung, thinks I’m his boyfriend.” Crosby slaps the rail twice with his glove and shoots Eric a wink. A couple of the boys whistle and holler while the trainer shines a light in Eric’s eyes. The part of Eric’s brain still functioning properly is probably really upset right now.

“I don’t think it’s a concussion, he’s just dazed.”

“I’m ready to go in, coach, just give me a chance.” Eric jokes, though no one laughs. “Ace Ventura? No?”

The arena turns sideways along with Eric’s stomach and he burps wetly. Sullivan makes a face and says something to the trainer and just like that Eric is being directed to the locker room for further examination.

Eric hopes this makes for a really funny story later.

as much as I love the tropey gorgeous show that still star crossed is, I would also be very happy with an hour of the nurse just fucking roasting everything and everyone because nothing will be as iconic as “it’s not very good, is it?”

anonymous asked:

I understand not feeding cats a vegan diet but have wondered if a certain compromise would be acceptable? The compromise being feeding food made with biproducts, the logic being that then I'm at least just using the leftovers from animals other people are responsible for killing that would otherwise be wasted. I guess I'm curious if that is incorrect logic or if feeding such food would be bad?

Most commercial pet food is made with meat byproducts. Nobody is raising livestock for the cheap pet food industry, they raise it for human consumption and the unwanted bits end up in the pet food industry.

That might be animals that were killed for illness or injury reasons, chunks of meat with too much scar tissue, or unpopular cuts of meat (necks, cheeks, etc). Sometimes it includes offal, at least the cheaper bits but liver is usually listed separately.

This is perfectly fine to feed. We have a whole group of raw-feeders exclaiming the benefits of feeding organ meats to their carnivores. We also have a whole group of them decrying the evils of feeding meat byproducts, but that’s a whole other issue.

Nutrition-wise feeding these bits of the animal is going to be just as suitable for the carnivore as feeding the fancy cuts humans like. It’s just cheaper.

However you choose to justify it, you either feed your cat, an obligate carnivore, food with meat in it, or you keep a herbivorous species as a pet instead.

More touken parent hcs WOO

  1. Like everything else kaneki does, kaneki is a genius when it comes to tending the baby to the point touka becomes jealous. Kaneki had to question who exactly the child was in this family when the baby wanted to be held by touka rather than kaneki with touka responding ‘GET WREKTED, BITCH!’
  2. Kaneki is in the middle of a very important speech to boost morale and all until (like all children in public) his kid yells out 'look! It’s daddy! HI DAD!!’ And kaneki struggles to continue his serious speech whilst half giggling and half waving back to his child.
  3. Touka and Kaneki are forced to wear gas masks when the smell of baby food becomes too much, especially with the kid throwing it everywhere. They cry out for one of their human friends, but they’re left alone with everyone else busy. The only reason why kaneki is the one to clean up the mess afterwards is because touka knows his biggest weakness and fear: withdrawing sex.
  4. Kaneki has finally found the reading buddy of his dreams (that doesn’t want to eat him…Most of the time) and they have their own little corner in which they read together, which touka finds downright adorable. When kaneki is busy in the study or something, the kid always barges in when warden touka is busy and asks for kaneki to read with them. Kaneki is always close to rejecting him, but he didn’t want his kid to go through the loneliness he went through as a kid and always gives in. Secretly, the kid actually prefers touka reading to them sometimes, but touka encourages her child to drag kaneki away from work, knowing it’ll be good for the both of them. However, she makes sure puns are excluded from the bookshelves at all time.
  5. Whenever kaneki and touka finally get some alone time (wink wink), the kid always wakes up, feeling scared from loneliness and the parents are forced to let the child sleep in their bed…again. Touka doesn’t mind taking naps with her child when kaneki is away, always struggling to sleep without kaneki by her side. So when kaneki ends up regrettably late from their mission, he always find touka hugging their kid tightly in her sleep, making his heart sing with love for his family.
  6. Kaneki, the One Eyed King, strongest ghoul and most wanted from the CCG strikes fear in those with a black skull like mask with pink and yellow flowers drawn all over it. (Touka said it’d be too mean to wipe it all off, calling it artistic and praising their kid for the hard work.)
  7. Since the child is too impatient to wait in their crib whilst touka exercises, kaneki ends up walking in to the kid lying on touka’s back whilst she’s doing press ups, weight lifting the baby whilst doing lunges and the kid giggling silly on her shoulders when she runs on the spot.
  8. You’d think having a child who eats human food would make gathering food for the ghoul parents a lot easier since its only for two. Yet, this is proven wrong as touka and kaneki walks in to the baby roaming through the meat fridge (yes, that’s a thing) with blood dripping down its face and their chubby cheeks filled with human meat. All kaneki is say is 'they definitely got that from your side of the family.’

wildd-dreamerr  asked:

HIII Omg i love your imagines soo much! Can you do 25, 28 and 65 With Chanyeol??? Please??

Mortification was the only thing on your mind as Chanyeol piggybacked you up the stairs to his apartment.

“Alright, no more alcohol for you for a long while.” He huffed, shuffling your weight on his back. “And maybe no more potato snacks.”

“Aw, why?” You hiccuped, still intoxicated. “That one guy at the club said my curves we’re perfectly fine.”

“You have to be kidding me.” Chanyeol scoffed. “You’re obviously too drunk to remember that he called you ‘a fine piece of ass’ that he would like to ‘eat all night long’.”

Your cheeks flushed. “You’re making that up. I know it.”

Chanyeol merely sighed as he reached his apartment door, unlocking it and kicking off his shoes and he stepped inside.

“Let’s just get you to bed so you can sleep all this liquor off.” His low, concerned voice felt soothing, relaxing your tipsy senses.

He continued to carry you to his bedroom and towards the bed, where he sat down. He then delicately removed your arms from his shoulders, gently guiding you to the mattress.

“Damn.” Chanyeol cursed as he began to tuck you in. “You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover headache tomorrow.”

He shut off the lamp on the bedside table, allowing the room to be lit only by the moonlight seeping through the windows.

Before he could leave you reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I don’t want you to stop.” You muttered, your voice coming out as more of a desperate plea.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened as he looked down at you.

“You don’t want me to stop what?”

“Taking care of me.” You answered, barely letting him finish. “I… I think I love you.”

His stunned silence urged you to continue.

“You’ve always been there for me.” You felt your eyelids get heavy as the alcohol worked its way to your consciousness. “You’ve… Always come to… Save me…”

You lost your grip on Chanyeol’s arm, exhaustion causing your hand to fall limp against the bedsheets.

“I’m not going anywhere, (y/n).” His voice seemed lower and more serious than normal, but sleep had overtaken your senses.

You could’ve sworn you heard something before your grasp on reality faded entirely… Something like-

“I think I’m in love with you too, (y/n)…”


Chanyeol was right. The minute the sunlight reached your eyes you woke up, greeted with a monstrous headache that stung like hell.

You stumbled out of the room, and immediately your eyes met Chanyeol’s tall frame as he leaned over the stove in the apartment’s kitchen.

Your less-than-discreet entrance caused him to turn around. He smiled and nodded towards the kitchen table for you to take a seat.

You complied, scratching your head furiously in contemplation.

“How-… Wh-what… Did I-…” Your embarrassed attempts to recall the events of last night failed. “…How drunk was I?”

Chanyeol just grinned knowingly as he sat a plate of food down on the table next to you. 

He leaned against the chair across from you, crossing his arms. “Pretty damn drunk.”

You banged your already throbbing head against the table in frustration, groaning.

“Relax, nothing went too far at the club.” Chanyeol told you before muttering to himself. “Thanks to me, that is.”

“Huh?” You looked up at him, begging for answers.

“As I recall, I got a text from you saying ‘this guy says he likes my ass, ‘lolz’’ at 3am.” He let out a short, amused laugh before continuing. “I had to drag you out of the building after some sleazeball was eyeing you like a piece of meat.”

Your cheeks flushed immediately, signifying your regret.

“And, I distinctly remember you running away from me towards the tree outside of my apartment complex.” You could only grab a fistful of hair against your scalp as he went on. “Then you climbed the damn thing, yelling ‘look how big this piece of broccoli is!’ before falling off and landing right on your ass.”

“No… No no no no no no.” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s crazy. You’re crazy! There’s no way I let myself get that drunk.”

I swear I’m not crazy, (y/n).” Chanyeol put his hands on the table, looking at you dead in the eye.  “So you’re telling me there’s no way that you meant it when you confessed to me last night?”

You froze like a deer in headlights.

“I- How did- I thought-” You stood up, still unsuccessful at getting a complete thought out.

Chanyeol only smirked, perking up at your reaction. He walked over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders and gazing into your expression of utter confusion.

“I’m just teasing you, alright?” He gave you a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it and eat some breakfast.”

You groaned, but complied and sat down, beginning to shovel the food into your ravenous system. After eating for a good fifteen minutes, you glanced up at Chanyeol who was sitting across the table from you, absorbed in consuming his own meal.

“I meant it, by the way.” You mumbled, half hoping he didn’t hear it.

“I did too,” He muttered back, not taking the focus off if his plate.

“So…” You tapped the fork on your plate nervously. “What happens now?”

Chanyeol looked up at you innocently, but a mischievous glint was hidden in his eyes.

“I think I’m supposed to kiss you. Then take you into my bedroom to make out with you like crazy.”

“So…” You swallowed. “Are you going to?”

“Hell yes.”

Originally posted by moon-min-ah

Welp, you knew the drunk scenario was gonna show up sooner or later. In all honesty though this one was cute af~ Thank you so much for requesting it, hun! And thank you for reading my stories! I’m so sorry this took so long and I hope it was worth the wait!!

~Nunchi

Eclipsed - Nishinoya Yu x Reader

AN: Some love for my favorite libero. Hurray for first post!


Nishinoya Yu was like the sun.

He was energetic, bright, and dynamic; but most of all, he made everyone feel alive.

If Nishinoya was the sun, then you were the moon.

You were calmer, quieter, and wiser. You were a mystery and many classmates didn’t know what to think of you. But you didn’t mind; in fact, you took it as a compliment. Because of this, many classmates were afraid to approach you. It wasn’t that you were mean or hated people, you only looked like you did. But when they were paired with you for a project, they saw past your demeanor and welcomed you with open arms.

That’s how you became friends with Tanaka Ryunosuke.

Keep reading

Sangwoo trusts him with a knife.

He thinks about this now just as he has been thinking about it for days. When Sangwoo is not in the kitchen Yoonbum might even lift it from the chopping board as if to practise wielding it, but all it does is wobble in his unsteady hand.

It’s been…how long has it been, since Sangwoo dropped him into a swivel chair and placed the knife in his hand? He doesn’t know. All he can remember is that his palm had been soft, and his fingers gentle. They had pushed the hair out of his face and left his cheeks glowing.

They had glowed again later to be sure; glowed with the red hot force of Sangwoo’s palm - returned again with its second face.

Every error in the kitchen had its consequence. He began to experience them so routinely that he memorised them. A dropped plate brought him smarting cheeks. Overcooked meat was pulled hair. A failure to respond was a sharp pinch of his flesh, fleshy half-moons in his skin.

If he wanted - really wanted - a cut across his thigh, all he would have to do is break a cup and wait for Sangwoo to locate the sharpest shard.

To his mind, with this knowledge he almost had a type of control over Sangwoo. That was his small and solitary solace.

Madness is when time becomes everything and nothing. He uses time as a measure - of pain, of progress, of opportunity to escape. His life is defined by it, but it has no real weight. He cannot place himself.

He wonders about the knife. It was a test to be sure. Or did Sangwoo really have that much faith in him? He hadn’t seemed suspicious…and before that Yoonbum had done his duties well. Pride rushes up his spine, and he straightens with it. It was possible that…

What other privileges could he win, with time? Perhaps Sangwoo would let him sleep upstairs…perhaps more…

Perhaps – a voice pushes in – perhaps it didn’t imply trust at all. Perhaps Sangwoo knew he was eternally useless with a knife – that’s all.

He deflates, shoulders dropping.

His hand grips the handle of the knife tightly. He’d just have to learn to fight.

Behind him, Sangwoo speaks up from the table where he had been flipping through a magazine. “You know what I just remembered?” he asks in a way that makes Yoonbum – shocked out of his stupor – wholly suspicious. A chill settles over him.

“That time in the basement when you pissed yourself from fear. I had to hose you down like a dog, you were so pathetic! And all I did was nick you a little with a can.” He laughs loudly at this, and his eyes are bright.

Yoonbum stiffens, but forces a smile over his shoulder. The knife is reunited with the chopping board, and he turns around to slice at some leek with renewed vigour.

“Imagine I had used something else. Like the knife you’re holding now.” Yoonbum looks over his shoulder again to meet Sangwoo’s eyes. They’re black with accusation now, serious, his face no longer bright or laughing. His voice is poison. “You would have shit yourself.”

Yoonbum is paralysed by the idea that Sangwoo has a sense for his thoughts. He says nothing, receiving the message and accepting it. Whatever he had done, he had been too obvious.

His silence seems to agitate Sangwoo, who rises with a frown to stand behind him.

He flinches, but Sangwoo only rests his chin atop Yoonbum’s head, letting his warm hands travel over his belly affectionately. “You really have no sense of fucking humour do you, Bum? It’s boring. You can be so boring.” He sighs into his hair.

If there was ever a time to raise the knife and plunge it into Sangwoo’s forehead, it would be now. He considers this very seriously – it would be so easy, he’s right there – but half of him is fighting the burgeoning disappointment searing throughout his chest.

Sangwoo finds him boring.

“S-sorry,” he says, and he is. His heart cracks into two at the idea that he is undesirable to Sangwoo in yet another department.

Sangwoo brings up a hand to smooth along Yoonbum’s forearm and rest atop his own, where he grips at the knife. His other hand fingers the young scar on his collarbone. He suddenly presses into it hard, and Yoonbum whimpers.

“Don’t let me get bored of you, Bum. That really wouldn’t be good for you.”

Yoonbum’s lips wobble into a miserable line, and he nods.

Sangwoo leaves a lingering kiss on his forehead before letting go, leaving the kitchen for the bathroom.

Yoonbum hovers over the counter, breathing harshly. He puts down the knife.

Sangwoo is gone but he will not practice today.