eat he rude

lunamusings  asked:

A small gray and white woman stops as she is walking past, carrying a basket. "Nice hat! Want a cookie?" -thelithiumprojectlm

@thelithiumprojectlm


“Ooo cookies, thanks stranger!” the young man gobbled the treats in a blink of an eye. Giving food was a extremely quick way to win his attention but he leaned on his intuition when it was about trusting people he didn’t know beforehand. 

 “Who are you by the way? Wanna join our crew?”

To: haanigram

It’s just an idea for Homer and my cast for he. It’s only my opinion, I don’t want you to change your own Homer.

Liam Aiken as Homer (Hannigram Au / Murder Family Au: here for the people are reading this)I think of Hannibal when he was a boy & when he grew up I remember Will,so is a mix of both of them, And also in my AU there is MPREG.

He is going to prison because he is a problematic boy (or maybe is just a rebel(?)) but he enjoy killing his parents. He likes dogs and he defends animals, he shares the same idea about “eating the rude” like Hannibal,so he eats rude people since he was a baby.

‘This is my design’: Transgression and Possession by Hannibal’s Cannibals

[Note: You guys said you were interested, so here goes! This is a little different from my previous metas. It started as a paper I wrote for an MA class called ‘Exploitation Cinema’ where I placed the NBC show Hannibal in a wider context of cannibalism in film. It’s pretty rough, since I’ve cut it down by about 2,000 words and edited it to make it a little more accessible.]

In what is now an iconic scene from Silence of the Lambs (1991), Hannibal ‘the Cannibal’ Lecter taunts FBI trainee Clarice Starling by telling her about a census taker he once killed. ‘I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti’, he says, sucking in a hissing breath as though relishing the taste that lingers in his memory. Lecter and his psychiatrist enthrall Clarice—and, by extension, the audience—with verbal reconstructions of his murders, lingering on the cannibal’s perverse sensual enjoyment. Yet while the early Lecter films show only titillating glimpses of the killer’s ‘art’, the camera in the NBC serial Hannibal (2013 –) lingers with an almost detached fascination on the artist’s corpse-tableaus and haut-cuisine dishes, as though tempting the audience with their grim beauty. Instead of titillating us with tales of gore, Hannibal’s Hannibal dismembers and prepares each corpse in front of our eyes, holding the finished plate under our noses as though to say, ‘There, doesn’t that look good?’ Lecter’s pleasure is no longer a sign of incomprehensible monstrosity; it has become our pleasure as well.

Where does this perverse allegiance between audience and killer come from? The cannibal figure in fiction has evolved significantly over time. In Cannibalism in Literature and Film, Jennifer Brown argues that cannibalism is common in fiction not because it has been much practiced in reality (anthropological evidence shows incidents of cannibalism are actually very rare) but rather because it is an almost universal taboo, thus serving as an easy indicator of threatening and encroaching Otherness. The view of the cannibal is that of dangerously ambiguous figure, one who crosses or disregards the essential dividing line that separate the human body (in most cultures considered sacred, superior, or inviolate) from animal bodies. Human consumption of human flesh upsets what Brown calls ‘the most fundamental boundary between the “self and else”’ (7).

Keep reading

Insecure

A/N: damn, my imagines are always depressing af. Happy imagines coming next ahah.

Warning: weight issues, eating disorders, and stuff like that

Your pov  

All the guys were over me and Michael’s flat. I never minded that they were always over playing video games or whatever they usually did.Today they invited me to sit with them in the living area since my plans with my friends were cancelled at the last minute.
I sat on between Michael’s lap on the small love seat while we watched some soccer game while the other 3 boys shared the couch. Michael peppered little kisses to the back of my neck being the cheeky aussie he always was. It tickled my neck, where he knew my tickle spot was, but he kept pressing his lips gently on the skin.
I shifted in his lap trying to get away from his lips, but his grip around my waist was too strong. “Mikey stop” I made out in between laughs. Michael didn’t listen and now was tickling me all over. I bounced around in his lap again desperate to get away from him. Moving around like crazy, I heard him groan. It sounded like he was in pain. He stopped tickling me and I stopped laughing.
“Did I hurt you babe? Are you alright?” I asked him.
“I’m fine (y/n) but could you please get off. Your kinda heavy on my lap.” He laughed. I didn’t think that was funny at all. Michael knew I was insecure about my weight still after being teased for being “chunky” until high school ended. I had lost a lot of weight since then and I was what I considered skinny, but I guess Mikey didn’t think so.
“Sorry,” I whispered. I removed myself from his lap and squeezed between Luke and Ashton on the couch. Just the memories of being teased and now my boyfriend shaming my weight brought tears to brim in my eyes. I sat in silence, not wanting to talk to anyone especially Michael.
After the first two halves of the game Michael asked me to order pizza and french fries for the everyone. I nodded; still not speaking to him. I went into the kitchen to order. Large pepperoni pizza, cheese fries, mozzarella sticks, and a small side salad for myself.
The food came about 20 minutes later. The boys all fired up and hungry rushed into the kitchen to get a slice of the cheesy deliciousness.
They all sat at the table, each with 3 slices of pizza on their plates and a mound of fries. I sat at the end of the table with my small salad. Basically just lettuce and nasty vegetables, I didn’t even like salad.
“(y/n) what are you eating? You hate salad. You would normally eat the whole pizza by yourself,” Mikey said to me with a laugh. My eyes looked up from my plate and made contact with his.
“I’m not that hungry.” I replied and started to pick little pieces of lettuce out of my bowl. I didn’t even finish 5 bites of the salad before I decided I had already eaten enough.

*

It had been two weeks since the incident about my weight with Michael had happened. While he was at the studio everyday, I would run five times around the few blocks we lived near. That was 3 miles every day. When he got home, I would go to the gym and work out until the late hours of the night. The gym would close some nights before I left. I lost 10 pounds already.
I was on my early morning run when I received a text from Michael telling me he needed to talk to me. He must have gotten out of the studio early.
I finished my jog and made it home. I was a sweaty mess. I opened the front door with my hand shaking; probably from lack of food.
“Babe” I called out to Michael. I pulled off my running shoes and left them by the door and then hung my jacket up in the coat closet.
“(y/n) why didn’t you eat the breakfast I made for you this morning.” he asked. It was a tradition that even on the days when Mikey had work, he left me breakfast in the fridge. His simple question made my heart beat fast. He didn’t know that I had been starving myself. Sure I would have one protein bar a day but nothing more.
Tears welled up, but I pushed them back and tried to act as calm as possible. “Oh  I wasn’t hungry this morning.” I casually replied.
“(y/n) you said that yesterday, the day before, and Monday.” He sternly said. Shit. He was on to me.
“I guess my diet is changing.”I said. I was desperate to get my way out of this mess.
“Bull shit. When did you last eat?” he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Seriously, when did you last eat?” he asked me more sternly.
“I don’t know, Michael.” I yelled and then the world went hazy and I was dizzy.
“(y/n) whats wrong?” Michael asked concerned. I felt my eyes roll back in my head and that’s the last I could remember.
I woke up in my bed. Michael standing at the edge of it and holding my hand tightly. “Eat.” He rudely spat, shoving a ham sandwich with chips on the side at me. It was laying in my lap. It honestly looked delicious, but the thought of eating made me sick. I wanted to just throw up.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“Why (y/n)? Don’t you understand how bad starving yourself is! Your gonna kill yourself slowly and not even give a damn,” He yelled rudely. He was pacing around the room with his hands balled into fists.
“Sorry.” I whispered as a sob racked threw my body. I didn’t even have enough energy to keep my eyes open. I was just…tired.
“Don’t be sorry for me, be sorry for yourself. Your the on killing yourself right in front of my eyes. Why even do it (y/n)? Why are you starving?” He roared.
I answered with a silent cry.
“I can’t lose you. Eat the damn sandwich (y/n). Right now.” He yelled threw gritted teeth. He had now come closer to me. Back to the position he was in when I woke up, but this time not holding my hand.
“Michael stop. Your scaring me,” I yelled.
“Then tell me why!” He shouted.
“It was for you.” I said.
“What?” He asked still with an angry tone.
“You are the reason I wanted to lose weight. You said I hurt you when I sit on your lap.” I whispered with hot tears rolling down my cheeks.
A look of realization flashed through Mikey’s eyes. “No no no no no no no no no” He repeated. He paced around the room again while yanking at his hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough.” I apologized.
He turned towards me. “No. Don’t you dare ever say those words again. Princess, you are beautiful. I’m the one who isn’t good enough for you.” he said. The anger he once had was gone. Now instead of tears in my eyes, they were in his.
He sat next to me on the bed. We sat in silence. I personally was too tired to talk and he couldn’t make out the words to make things right again. He twirled my hair around his finger tip.
“I love you. Your prefect. I didn’t mean what I said. “He rambled on.
“It’s okay. Im going to eat this for you because I love you.” I said holding the ham sandwich in one hand.

CLOSED RP with Undauntedgunner

journal-from-the-void:

Grilby’s was particularly busy tonight. over at the largest table, as was normal, the ex-members of the royal guard were chatting, and playing poker. laughter and barks surrounding the table, over at the booth Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys were chatting. Papyrus seemed greatly disturbed about a joke his brother had told, while the two ladies talked amongst themselves.

It was a goodbye party, that Grillby was hosting, as they all prepared to leave the underground for good. the seat scan was at was warm by now as he waited for his order -Y̸̛̠͙͇͕̥̯͔̩͢ọ̸̶̬̺̫͕̦̯̪̭̠̟͓̭̗͔͖͔̕͞͞ͅú̶͜͏̦̮̫͕͇̭͍͙͓̫̩ ̼̪̜̼͓͎̠̙̰̹̘̙͙̣̹̩͢ş̵̵̼̳͎̝͕̻̝̰̳̖̹͍͚̦́͢h̛̙͍̘̦̭̰͉͇̟̼͕͢ͅo̷͚̟̙̺͈̹͓͡u̸̠͍̼̥͓̘̗̗̥͇͓͇̭̞̩͉̞͓͘͜l̨̡̞͕̻̰̟̼̼̬̺̝̥͙͓̲͖̀d̶̡͙͓̼̙̣̟̙͉͖̩̳̞̫̩̗̥̙͘͢͜ͅn̷̡̛͖̗̻̩̻͕͖̺͈̹̲̖̣̟̲̟̜t̴̴̯͇̬͇̜̹̜̻͝͠ ̴̢̦̜̹̞̱̳̙́ȩ͙̱̮͉̻͇̖̹̦́͜͟͟x̕҉̻̫̟̞̤͙̮̜̪̤̤̟͕͎̦͚̗̀ͅi͠͏͙̝̯̤͉̯̭̟̩̖͞s̵̵̷̡̟̭͖͇̤͈̞̯̲͔͈͇͓̠͍̟̮ţ̶̪̺̪͙
c̛̗̤̯̠̙ͅh͕̘̭̙e̛̩̦̝͇̳̝c̤̖̙k̸̙͇͓i̶̟̗n͍̖͜g̥̜̘̦̱̤̦ ̺N͉͔̙̲͎V̹̫̰̠͕̹̳͢R͎A̱̺͢M̢̠
I̸̪͖n̼̯i̯̮͍͉̦͍̳̕t̰̦̝͉̝̥͘i̖͕͚̕al̶͍͖̪͇͈̲i̱̪ͅz͚͙͙͙̹̤̞i̗͎͠n̶͎g͚̰ ̸̠͖̬̬̪c̜̜̯͉͉͟ͅoṋ̹̙̲͘t̹̳̖̰͇̗̳r̲͖̜̦̜̫͚o͓l̸͚͎̪e̵̮r̛̪̟̣͚͔̖
̶̳̼̦̦̻̳.̝̫̻̥̪́.̨.̣̳̻̲̖͘
̷̝͎̳.͍͚̫͔̤.͜.̴̙̳̟̘̠͇
̸͍̙̪̖̝͉ͅ.̜̟͉͖̰͠.͈̹̰̥͙̟̰.̰̩̠̞͕̗
̛̟̮̜̲̮̦ͅA̢̪̠͉u̗͈̮͖̱̜͡t̬̪͈̦̗̗̮o̤͓̳-̧̳̙̣̻̭d̵͙͉̲͉e͉t̰e̶̻̬͔͈͖̞̫c͙͚̼̹t̰͈͟:̵̻ ͕̩̤̩u̶̝̘͖̝nd҉̺̼͖̞e̖r̗͈̯̫͕g̶͎͖͓̝̰̥ŕo̱̠̫͚u̪̞n̸̜̭̲͇̹͚ͅd͙̞͙̭̰͈̖
̞̖̳̱̝̘̯ḻ̨̩͓̘̪̗o͉̯̭̯͡ad ̻͙̱͕̬f̡͔̤̥͈͎ͅa̜i̴̯̠̜̜̲̞ḻ͎̩͎̝e̖̘̯̰̲̻d̪͙̟̲
̜͇͕l̴̥̲̖̭͈̪o̗̞͡a͍̲̰̥͖̭ͅd̵̮̦̠̝̺̭-͙̜s͚̟̹̼̱̣̣͞t͎͔a͍̜̩͙̰̝̲t͕ḛ̛̤̘̭̩:̶ͅ ̰̗͖̗͜2͈̖̞̲̤̼ͅ
̙͔̝ͅl̸o̩̟̗ͅà̼̖d̨͕͓̠̙̮̯̭ ̀f͕͈̞͖͝a̹͓̬̱̟̞͇i̡͇̲̯̻͖͚l̘̖̪̤͔̗e̸͎̩ḓ̡̻̤
̰̙̣͍̹̗̖l̙̞̕ơ̜̱̟͔a͉d̦̝͍̘͈̩-̛͎̜s̻̥t҉̤̹͖̭̜a͎̰͚̦t̵̯̫e̯͚͓̞͖͎̻:̱́ ̴̘̭̘̺̱2͏̫͈̜ͅ
͔̦́Co̭̘͉̞͕͖̟͘ḿ͔͚͕͚̞̞̦m̪̙̱͓̳a̶̠̤̖n̰̯͚͉̤̱d́ o̬͔̹v̩̦̥͕͓̗̘e̖̩͘r̥i̦͉͙͟d͏̦̦͈̙̯̮e̤͓̺̻̘
͕͓̟̘̬s̺t͉̖͎a̴te̸̙͇͍̟̜̖̖-̵̫͖̝̳̝̱2̱͕͔̱͇̱ ̲̦̩l̨̥o̴̪̝̝̠̤ad͎͙͓̣e̹̗̖͉̖̝̙͡d̥̺͈̬̬͖

It was dark. Grillby’s seemed closed now…everyone was gone. the door to the bar and grill seemed to have been removed, torn off its hinges, where everyone sat there didn’t seem to be any chairs. in fact the entire establishment seemed to almost have up and left. the shack was in tatters, the only thing still there was the seat Scan was sitting on, and the bar Grillby normally tended to.

a cold draft blew in through missing planks in the wall. outside a pair of shuffling footsteps could be heard, followed by a second pair of footsteps which sounded like they were giving chase.

a sound, almost indescribable soon followed. several clicks, and a machine like hiss. the sound was quickly followed by angry shouting “YALL CANT RUN FOREVER! YOUR GONNA RUN OUTTA PLACES TO LOAD TO EVENTUALLY”

The voice would begin muttering as it stepped into the bar, and stared at scan in disbelief..”…wait…someone is here?…Who the hell are you, Never mind you can answer later, we have to go” the ground shook, and the wooden building creaked in disapproval “This place is about to fall apart we have to go NOW”

“… What the fuck, dude.”

[Scan didn’t know what had happened. One moment, he was enjoying another timeline’s success. The next… Well, everything went to shit, and another cowboy was standing in the door.]

[Whatever just happened, he was HUNGRY. he wasn’t about to leave Grillby’s with an empty stomach. He pulled out some beef jerky, and stared at Travis. Munching on the jerky, he listened to what the other had to say.] 

“Hmm… I don’t really feel like getting up right now.”

“My name’s Scan, to answer your question. Now, I hate to bother you, but who the hell are YOU? Fuckin’ breaking down Grillby’s while I was about to eat… Rude.” 

[He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that the building was probably gonna crash down soon.]