#breadboy

[margravigne]

All this time, has our Breadboy's love of a good loaf just been a subtle joke by his writers in reference to what he's being forced to endure?

[stinkystarboy]

Weird fact: your foot is as long as your forearm.

Makes your feet look really long lol.

ik, i’ve put my forearm right against it so i could measure them, it’s true

[fuckin-nancy]

Kim: Are you afraid I'm gonna tell everyone you like to be little spoon?

Nick: Everyone likes to be little spoon! It makes you feel safe!

[johnjaesandwich]

Update - I'm still not over Jaehyuns body and I need to not see his face for a moment, because how is someone, visually, that perfect of a man??

[savvylark]

Indulgence

The topic has been Thanksgiving and healthnut relatives, which turned into a story idea about healthnut!Gale and carbloving!Peeta. After T's suggestions it practically wrote itself.

Happy Thanksgiving! Hope this makes someone smile. -SavvyLark

I checked my work email, and groaned. There was another lengthy article from Gale about the extensive health benefits to eating a plant-based gluten-free diet.

This triggered my bad mood for the day. I had spent night after night fantasizing about thick juicy burgers, pizza, dinner rolls, cakes, and maybe just ONE beer with gluten. Only to wake up to intense pressure through the guise of “encouraging texts” from my sort-of-boyfriend Gale to prepare the healthiest breakfast known to mankind. It tasted like resentment and disappointment.

This was all my co-worker, Peeta’s fault. That bastard eats the most amazing, delicious, succulent, carb-filled, mouthwatering juicy meat-ridden lunches.

And I just want him.

IT, I mean I want his lunches.

I went about my work day, sipping my anti-oxidant health infused blah blah blah smoothly that was supposed to give me energy. How about a damn cup of coffee?!

That is IT!

I jump to my feet, and reach for my coat, determined to find a decent cup of coffee. “Maybe I’ll go crazy and get an early lunch?” I thought.

The knock on my office her door interrupts my thoughts. “Come in.” 

There stands Peeta with his sculpted, fit and solid body in all his carnivores ways, hidden under business casual attire. That's a bread boy. I can practically smell the baked goods wafting from him as he approaches me.

“Hey Katniss, oh were you heading out?” He raises his eyebrows noticing my coat in my hands. “There's a new restaurant that opened up nearby. I'm told they have excellent g-free options. They wanted me to review it. What do you say? Should we go check it out together?” He asks kindly and sincerely. Blue eyes sparkling. Smile enchanting.

This hunger is clearly going to my head.

“Sure.” I answered as I grabbed my purse and headed to lunch with Peeta-bread.

Mmm bread.

I subtly leaned over to give his shoulder a little sniff when Peeta wasn't looking.

Oh my gosh he smells delicious!

Cinnamon rolls and fresh baked bread.

This is dangerous.

Once we’re settled in the restaurant, I order their “Big Salad.” They claim it is sensational with roasted carrots, arugula, avocado and a dressing that is “to die for.”

Peeta orders the house steak.

THE STEAK.

As he eats, a little bit of the juices run down his chin. I stifle a groan.

He wipes his chin and gives a hearty chuckle. I couldn't even look away if I tried.

A wave of heat travels through my body.

As he slowly butters his roll, I'm mesmerized. By the roll. The smattering of butter. Ohhh no that's too much butter. His hands keep buttering, slow and sensual. I want his hands on me.

I hadn’t even realize I'm leaning into Peeta until I have his collar bunched in my hands.

The air is electric.

I barely make eye contact before crashing my lips to Peeta's.

He kisses me back with vigor. Aggressive, but reverent. His strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me tighter. Ugh, he's so strong.

We're both breathless and pull away just looking at each other. Slightly shocked. Such intensity.

Then I smirk, and before he can say anything, I steal a bit of his steak.

And it's Soooo goood.

Mouthwatering, mind blowing.

A deep moan escapes.

Peeta's eyes grow wide.

I wink and reach for his bread.

Four months later Peeta and I are seated at his parent’s house for Mellark Thanksgiving dinner.

Peeta is expected to write a piece about his own family traditions, so we take note of every delectable dish.

The juicy honey ham. The soft flaky Turkey. The warm buttery delicate rolls. Turkey and herb stuffing. The garlic mashed potatoes with an indulgent amount of butter. Peeta's mom's traditional twice baked sweet potato dish with “a secret ingredient” that I will find out from her eventually. The tart cranberry sauce.

I won't even tell you about the pies. They were insane.

Peeta and I can't seem to keep our eyes or hands from wandering after we've finished our pies. We say our goodbyes and hurry home to add our own new tradition to the day.

It was a happy Thanksgiving indeed.

[coyolxauhqui-pendejowey]

Duckman.

[badculturefilms]

Another Michael at No Fun 4/25/22 #nofuntroy #anothermichael #breadboy (at No Fun) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc0gOTlOaTx/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[badculturefilms]

Bread Boy at No Fun 4/25/22 #nofuntroy #breadboy #anothermichael (at No Fun) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cc0fwKXuHOB/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=