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[xstarlesscity]

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GUIDELINES:

- you can be anon, but you don't have to be anon. you take full credit for your pervy thoughts if you like, but don't feel pressured.
- one prompt per post, please.
- read over the requests and fill them with fic and art. both are encouraged!
- a post can be filled multiple times. just because someone drew it doesn't mean you can't write it, or draw it again. and again and again and again. the more the merrier.
- absolutely NO hating on other people's kinks. there is a 0% chance that writing or requesting fic or art will hurt anyone, so live and let live.
- pimp us around! most of this fandom isn't on lj, so the more this gets pimped, the more likely it is that your requests will get filled. post the banner on tumblr with a click-through link to this page!


this fandom is seriously lacking in kink.
let's get this party started.

Comments

Sweet Tooth 1/3

[(Anonymous)]

Please don't cry Sebastian, his mother would insist, I made you something. Eat, my little boy.

It's in memory.

The pointless, often physical little fights they has as young brothers were easily laughable, but to Sebastian, they stayed with him forever. Overcome with childish anger and envy he remained for most of their arguments. In result of her son's endless pouting, Sebastian's mother would often bake his sorrows away. Tiny treats and goodies that were made especially for him and no one else. He gushed with pride whenever she lavished him, claiming to be twice as loved as his brother Noel was, but underneath it all was a comforting feeling. Knowing that you were given something out of love was enough, but to make something solely to ensure their happiness was a bit more. He had been more attached to his mother since and could name every delicacy she ever brought to him. They were more than just sweets, they were gifts. They were edible promises of his mother's affection.

He's alone now, with no one to defend his urges, no one to assure him that all he really has are common tendencies. There is nothing wrong with an extra serving. Seconds will not kill you. It is not a problem as much as it is a weakness. It provides substance, dependability. It will always be there. If he is upset, if he is content, if he simply cannot define himself within a single emotion he can always eat. Eat until he can feel his meals at the edge of his throat, until his jaw is sore from constant chewing. A sense of fulfillment, he jokes to himself, and despite the dry humor it's enough to comfort him for another night.

It's just pastries in the beginning. Tarts and pies and maybe even a few cookies. That's all. Over time he's developed somewhat of a talent for it. In desserts there's so much more than just taste. Flavor may come first, but then there was texture, display and so on. Sebastian was also fond of ordering in large quantities. If he ordered a dozen eclairs, he would eat a dozen. Of course the few extra pounds he had once ignored seemed to multiply, and apparently everyone was taking notice. Not just his musical comrades, but the media, his fans, everyone. The comments on his weight drove him to even more starving frustration. He could handle himself, though. He had control of himself. Addiction was such a harsh word for such a harmless habit.

Thomas interrupts his thoughts suddenly, offering him a third slice of cake. He hesitates, but nods, thanking him.

"You're still hungry?" Kavinsky whispers beside him, opening another glass of champagne. 

"You're not drunk yet?" He snaps back, as he takes another bite of frosted heaven.
_____

He's eaten much more than his fill tonight.

He staggers in the greasy stall, hacking and puking until the acids stay strong in his mouth. Hands part their ways as they crush against the walls, supporting him in his shaking state. He breathes a little harder, spits the remaining chunks and shuts his eyes. Face soaked in sweat, cheeks flushed, fingers trembling. His chest hurts from his irregular breathing and he really can't see straight anymore. The stench he's filled the entire restroom with fuels him with another rush if nausea.

"Aye, Sebos," Kavinsky calls as he enters. "You okay in there?"

He isn't. The foul taste has yet to leave his mouth and he knows that when he cleans himself up, he will gorge again. He's upset. He's afraid. Food will ease him.

"I'm fine."

Sweet Tooth 2/3

[(Anonymous)]

He's lost it.

Rummaging through pantries and cabinets he takes every last edible thing available, taking apart boxes and ripping wrappers to shreds as he gets his dose. Crackers, cereal, slices of bread. Often times he not even aware of what he's consuming, but the way it slides down his throat is what he's after. The mere sense of nourishment. Tonight he feels worthless above anything else and devouring everything in sight will surely help.

It's just not the same.

Nothing tastes as good, as warm, as sweet. His perfect little theory had finally failed him. This is even more unsettling. It's not long until he makes his way to the refrigerator in uncontrollable sobs. Even when he's proved himself wrong he still finds an emptiness, one that he is positive can only be filled with food. He sees fruits, left overs from dinner, Danishes and plenty more that gives him that glint of hope. Before he can grab a single pastry he's in a chokehold, gasping for air. The arm tugs at his throat, making him gargle and burn in the face. He still struggles, still makes his useless attempt to reach for anything and lets out a screech when the door closes in front of him.

He already knows. "Get off me," he growls when the grip loosens. "I'm hungry."

"Bullshit." Kavinsky tears him away from his safe haven even further, releasing his neck and locking him by the waist. He doesn't get far with all the resisting, so he pins him against the table and gets a hold of his wrists. Their bodies are pressed against one another, his breath warm and drenched with alcohol.  Sebastian shakes as he pleads, but they shift to death threats in seconds. Bits of food still cling around his face, syrup glides down his chin. His bloodshot eyes and cracked voice almost frighten Vinco. He's an absolute mess. "Tell me...tell me what's wrong."

"Fuck you." Comes the reply, along with more churning and tossing. His eyes squint shut and his fingernails dig deep into Kavinsky's hands. He doesn't want him to help. He just wants to eat.

"Ungrateful shit!" He yells back, "I'm helping you!"

"I don't need help." Sebastian says dryly. "I don't need anything from you."

"Sebastian. Sebastian, look at me." Kavinsky whispers, firm but easy. Nimble fingers assist his hold of both his wrists in a single hand, while his free one cups his face, tilts it upwards so that they look directly at each other. "You are not hungry. You have to stop."

A few broken laughs leave his lips. His eyes flicker open, his breath hitches. "Why do you give a fuck? Are you afraid I'll lose my figure?" He swallows hard. "Afraid I'll be too fat for you to fuck?"

There's a chilling silence between them, one that seems to last hours. All they can hear is the creak of the table while Sebastian is still slightly resisting.

"I don't mind a little weight on you. For fuck's sake, it looks good on you. You'd be stupid to think I'd leave you for that."

He scoffs in reply, eyes rolled, lips parted to speak but Kavinsky beats him to it.

"We may have started out...fucking." His brows furrow with concern, "But this is something else now."

Sebastian is speechless. The fact that his long time friend and recent companion just somewhat admitted a relationship between them has him realize that he has only good intentions. His frenzied movements stop altogether. He wants to apologize but all that escapes him are croaks and groans.

"Please, Sebastian." His hands slip slowly, freeing him. "Just tell me."

There's another cold pause, then, "Okay. Yes, okay."

Sweet Tooth 3/3

[(Anonymous)]

They both sit over the table the entire time. Sebastian truly starts from the beginning, to his earliest memories of brotherly disputes. He goes on about his mother, how caring she was, how she sort of fed on his happiness and triggered it all. There's a few tears here and there, but some chuckles too, because in all honesty the majority of topics they fought over were just plain silly. Kavinsky pushes him into his chest, listening, soaking every word. Sebastian has never before felt so at ease, and never dreamed of feeling this way with Vinco. It was unexpected.  

"I liked knowing she made them for me, the treats." He adds, head burrowed in the linen shirt. "They were for me. Just for me."

"You were jealous. He was older."

"...A little." 

"Why didn't you try other things? Why couldn't you just stick to making music-"

"Because music doesn't always make me happy." He replies sharply. "If you're in the studio and your track is filth, it's the worst. When I ate, all I felt was full. It was..." 

"It was..." Kavinsky repeats.

"It was as if it was my mother who was feeding me." Sebastian licks his lips, a blush on his moist cheeks. "She only wanted me happy. She made me happy with food."

"It wasn't the food that made you happy though," Kavinsky says softly.

He smiles weakly. "I know that now."

"It's who made it for you."

"Yes."

Kavinsky pulls away briefly, and when Sebastian looks up, they kiss. It's been a while. "Look at this mess, christ. It'll take hours to clean this. You really scared me there, Sebos."

"I scared myself."

They laugh for a while, and in between there's even more kisses and a little touching. When Vinco pins him down again he grins, "What about my mess?"

Kavinsky shares a smirk. "Mm, it can wait."

Re: Sweet Tooth 3/3

[(Anonymous)]

;___; Omg I wanted to cry, it was so sad and aaaaaa writeranon I love you. It was sweet and sad at the same time.

Plus I liked the ending. :>

Re: Sweet Tooth 3/3

[(Anonymous)]

BOHHH