#(most of his issues are with texture and taste though)

[official-l]

Do you get overstimulated easily?

I suppose in some circumstances yes, but I have removed all bothersome aspects, like clothing texture or the taste of many foods, in order to minimize such a response.

[mononijikayu]

think about things — fushiguro toji.

“I don’t want to mess this up, babe.” he finally admitted, the words coming out in a low, almost reluctant rumble. “I don’t want to mess him up. I don’t want to be like my father, babe. I wanna be a good father to him. I want to love him so much and I just….” Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you. “You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: intense fluff, romance, mild-angst, pet names (baby, babe, treasure etc), love, humor, light-hearted, parenthood, married life, healthy relationship, newborn baby, being in love, slice of life, domestic life, family, anxiety, emotional trauma, emotional suffering, self-doubt, encouragement, depictions of anxiety, depiction of healthy relationship, depiction of married life, depiction of parenthood, depiction of self-doubt, depiction of emotional trauma, mention of familial issues, mention of childhood trauma, mention of emotional suffering, mention of breast-feeding, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader, baby! megumi, normalize having a proud house-husband and father at home, ladies, gents and non-binary friends!;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: after writing so much sad stuff, i knew i had to write something really cute and something relatively happy, for the most part. i asked my beta reader what they wanted to see from me - toji or gojo and they said toji. and well, here we are. the song this is based off from is called think about things by daði freyr.

also what megumi accidentally said was ゴミ which expresses waste/garbage, encompassing things made by human acts. precious little megumi intended to say ごま which is sesame. megumi is still only a few months old!!! he's still learning how to speak!!! in any case, i hope you enjoyed this. i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3

masterlist

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FUSHIGURO TOJI THINKS HE’S NEVER BELIEVED IN WONDER. From the moment he was born, such a thing did not exist. Not even his mother believed it. Not even when he was born. But he thinks that after her sufferings, he wouldn't doubt it that he too inherited such grief and pain too.

Even having grown up in a sorcerer clan, where he saw things that could make anyone go in awe — nothing about it had made him feel like there was anything worth the thought. Nothing about being a Zenin was worth wondering or for that matter, worth remembering. 

But everything after that, especially when you came into his life, did he think they were possible. That wonders did exist in this life and he could have it. He was worth having. He was worth giving such wonders to.

And everything about wonder, he had learned from you. Every sense of the word, the texture, the taste, the feeling. Everything started when he met you. Every good thing sprung into life, like spring, when he met you. 

Fushiguro Toji believed that each person has only truly had three special wonders in their lives, nothing more and nothing less. It was almost something out of a genie’s lamp. Three wishes, three gifts, three wonders.

And Toji likes to think that he’s used up all his three wonders. But he was alright with that. He liked to think that he was content with having used it up. Because everything about his life now consisted of those three wonders. 

The first was when he first saw you, and then smiled at him so warmly. The second was when you agreed to marry him and spend the rest of your life with him. And the third? Oh, nothing could ever beat the third. That day when you made him a father, the day when your precious son Megumi was born into this world. 

Toji couldn’t help but stay there for a moment, his large frame silhouetted against the soft light spilling in from the hallway. He didn’t dare move too quickly or too loudly, worried that even the smallest disturbance might wake his precious son Megumi. And yet, despite the quiet, his mind was anything but still.

He had fought the worst of the worst in life, faced death more times than he could count, and lived a life dictated by survival. But none of that had prepared him for this: the weight of fatherhood.

Not the kind of weight that came from responsibility or the logistical burdens of raising a child. No, this was heavier. This was the realization that he was holding the entirety of someone else’s future in his calloused, scarred hands.

When Fushiguro Megumi had first been placed in his arms at the hospital, Toji had frozen. The baby was impossibly small, a bundle wrapped in a soft blanket that felt foreign against his skin.

Toji had stared down at the little face, this precious little face and saw that little face be endlessly red and then pale. He saw that face turn red again as the features scrunched up and echo into those heart-wrenching fits of crying. 

For a split second, all he could admit to was his heart racing so fast against his chest. He was nothing but panicked. Toji never thought he would ever end up finding himself terrified of something.

He was terrified that he couldn’t stop his baby from crying. He was terrified of how small he was, and how big his hands could be to hold something as precious as this little boy. Just as fast, Toji had ended up thinking about all the things he didn’t know: how to soothe him, how to feed him, how to even hold him properly.

He didn’t know how to. How does a father look tenderly at his baby son and tell him it’s going to be alright? How does a father let his voice be the calmest and quietest comfort in the world? How does a father have soft kind hands with such scarred, brutish hands?

Toji couldn’t help it but he stood there, holding the most precious wonder in life and had just as quickly thought of all the ways he might fail — panicked and afraid, wondering if there was ever going to be a chance that he’ll end up doing well. That he’d end up doing right by this precious wonder, this precious treasure. 

But now, almost eight months later, Fushiguro Toji stood here watching his son sleep, something shifted.

His little Megumi’s tiny fingers twitched again, his expression relaxing into something peaceful. He was so precious in this way, Toji thinks. The world stops and becomes a bright wonder for his son.

Toji’s lips quivered into a crooked smile, a tender warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn’t known ever existed before he’d had his little boy, his precious treasure. He crouched down, resting his forearms on the edge of the crib, and let his voice drop to a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

“You’re so small still, hm?” he said softly, almost as if confessing to the baby. “Smaller than I thought. And yet you are growing so much. Even bigger than back at the hospital, when you were born. But... I guess it’s cos you’re a big boy already, aren’t you? Our Megumi’s already growing, huh? Doin’ everything you could to be stronger.” 

For a moment, he couldn’t help but hesitate as his fingers brushed against Megumi’s back. His little son moved slightly, against the touch. He must know his father was here. But Toji felt weary about waking his little son up.

He was up for a while, and only just fell asleep a while ago. But Megumi went back soundly to sleep. And Toji felt some relief. His precious boy is going to get some rest tonight.

“Hey ‘gumi. I’m gonna be here, okay? Not like my father.” His voice felt thicker at those words, despite the fact that  Every step of the way. I don’t know if I’m good at this... but I’ll try, kid. I’ll always try.”

The words came out unpolished, unpracticed, but there was a rawness in them that surprised even him. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type, but Megumi had a way of drawing things out of him that he didn’t even know were there.

Maybe it was the way your little son had come to look like you, or maybe it was the undeniable fact that your precious treasure named Fushiguro Megumi was part of him—a part he didn’t know he could love so much.

As he continued to watch, Megumi stirred again, this time letting out a tiny sound that made Toji’s chest ache. He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over the crib for a moment before finally brushing against the baby’s blanket-covered chest. It was a small, tentative gesture, but it felt monumental.

“I don’t know what you’ll think about the world, or me one day, you know?” Toji murmured, his voice almost a whisper now. “But I want to know. Someday, when you’re big enough to talk, I’ll listen. To every little thing. And until then... I’ll keep trying to figure this out.”

The baby’s breathing deepened, a soft sigh escaping him, and Toji let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He straightened, glancing down at Megumi. The truth was, Toji had never expected to live a life where someone else depended on him. 

He’d grown up in a world where strength was currency, where attachments were liabilities, and where survival meant keeping your guard up at all costs. That was how it was when you were born a Zenin. No ifs, no buts.

He had lived in the shadows of loss and anger for so long that the idea of something so beautiful and uncorrupted and pure, something as delicate and innocent as his precious treasure Megumi—felt almost impossible to comprehend. And for that pure existence to be born from him, because of him. 

Toji couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t real. That something with such a cursed existence as him could ever have something like happiness. And yet, here he was. His precious son, born out of love between you and him. And he could see him. 

Even now as he’s standing outside that room, chest tight with a strange combination of fear and determination — he convinces himself that his son was here, his precious son was here, because he loved him. Because he loved you. And he deserves this. This was the life he deserves. He always will. 

For a moment, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. Before long, he whispers a good-night to his little one and flees to the living room, just near his son’s room. If Megumi gets hungry, he’ll bring him some of your milk stock from the fridge. There was no reason to wake you. You still had work later.  

He goes to the couch and closes his eyes again. He had to go and get some rest here. If he comes back to bed, he might be too loud when he gets back in. And he’d want to be there quickly if Megumi needed anything. That’s what he was here for, as your loving house-husband. But he finds that he can’t sleep. 

Even now, he still can’t help but feel restless. What if he gets too much sleep and he doesn’t wake up? He had to make you and Megumi breakfast in the morning too. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling before a soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Toji? Baby?”

It was you, standing a few steps away, wrapped in the oversized robe you always wore around the house. Your hair was slightly mussed, your face soft with the haze of sleep, but your eyes were sharp, focused. You must have noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as though he was wrestling with himself.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle but edged with concern.

Toji turned to look at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small, almost sheepish shrug, he nodded. “Yeah. He’s asleep.”

You stepped closer, your hand finding its way to his arm. Your touch was grounding, and Toji found himself leaning into it without realizing. “You’re sure? You look... tense.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Tense, huh? Guess that’s not wrong.” He glanced back at the door, his voice dropping to something softer, more vulnerable. “I was just... thinking.”

“About?”

“About him.” His blue–green eyes met yours briefly before flickering away, as though the weight of his thoughts was too much to share directly. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, you know? I look at him, and... he’s so small. So... breakable. And I—”

He stopped, biting back the words, his brows furrowing. You squeezed his arm gently, waiting for him to find the rest of his sentence. You knew that your husband has had a lot of concern about being a father.

He’s told you some of what he’d experienced as a child, and sometimes about his father. But not everything. So, this was the first time you’ve heard things from him personally, this loud and this vulnerable. Your face contorts at his pain.

“I don’t want to mess this up, babe.” he finally admitted, the words coming out in a low, almost reluctant rumble. “I don’t want to mess him up. I don’t want to be like my father, babe. I wanna be a good father to him. I want to love him so much and I just….”

Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you.

“You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”

He let out another shaky breath, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “Trying doesn’t feel like enough,” he muttered. “Not for him. He deserves... more.”

“He deserves you, baby.” you corrected, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “The you who’s here, who’s holding him, who’s promising to be there. That’s all he needs. That’s all we both need.”

For a long moment, Fushiguro Toji just stared at you, his blue-green eyes searching your own bright orbs as though trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. Finally, he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible dip of his head. His face looked a little bit more relaxed, with your reassurance.

“Yeah…..” he said quietly. “Okay.”

You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “Come on. Let’s get some rest. You’ll need your energy when he wakes up in the middle of the night.”

“Babe, I should stay here—”

“No, no. You have super hearing, baby. You can get up when he wakes up. Come on, stop being a helicopter parent already and let our son sleep.”

Toji groaned softly at your words, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he let you guide him down the hall. For now, he would take things one moment at a time. One step at a time.

Because for all the uncertainty, for all the fears that lingered in the back of his mind, one thing was clear: he had a family now. A real one. And for them, Fushiguro Toji would do anything.

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YOUR MATERNAL LEAVE IS FINALLY OVER. So in a way, the house was quieter now. Quieter than Fushiguro Toji had expected it to be with a growing baby around, though the stillness wasn’t something he disliked.

And with how you’d gone back to work today, leaving him to take care of Megumi for the first time on his own. So Fushiguro Toji was certain, he was going to have all hands on deck. 

He’d joked about it before you left, tossing off some comments about how hard it could be. But now, standing in the living room with his tiny son in his arms, he was realizing it was more daunting than he let on.

He’d had you around the house for a long while and he had gotten used to it. He had become a rusty house–husband and more so, an already rusty father.

Fushiguro Megumi couldn’t help but fuss a little, with his little face scrunching up in that telltale way that meant a cry wasn’t far behind.

Toji sighed a little, looking softly at his precious boy as he shifted him gently, cradling him against his chest and bouncing on his heels like he’d seen you do a hundred times before.

“Hey, ‘gumi. Easy, okay?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I gotcha. No need to get all worked up.”

Megumi quieted, though his tiny fists still curled and uncurled against Toji’s shirt. Toji looked down at him, his expression softening. Tired as he was, he was always content when he looked at his son. Everything pays off.

It wasn’t often he let himself feel this—this quiet kind of contentment. But when he was holding Megumi, feeling his warmth and hearing his little breaths, it was impossible not to. Everything Toji does, everything you both do; it’s all for Megumi.

“Toji?” You’d asked that morning, lingering by the door as you prepared to leave. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Me?” he’d scoffed, smirking. “I’ve handled worse than a baby, you know. I’d be fine with our son, babe. Trust me.”

But now, hours later, Toji found himself pacing the living room, humming softly under his breath to keep Megumi calm. A melody came to him,something his mother used to sing. It was very rare for his mother to hold him for that long, that he’d remember. But she’d held him enough to hum melodies to him. Those were Toji’s first memories.

They weren’t overcomplicated tunes, if one was to hear it. If anything, they were the kind you don’t think about too hard—something simple, warm, and steady. But sometimes, he’d remember the lyrics. And Toji would find that those words would stir something in his little son, as much as they do for him, remembering his own mother.

Toji didn’t know if his voice was good enough to be heard, or to be enjoyed in a song. But Megumi seems to not mind his voice. If anything, little Megumi seems to be fond of his voice. And Toji relished that thought. He might not be the best in the world in singing, but he’s glad that at the very least, it comforts his son.

“When we are together….” he sang quietly, his deep voice surprisingly tender. “There isn’t anywhere that I would rather be.”

Megumi stirred, his dark blue–green orbs tiredly blinking up at his father, and Toji couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight. He kept rocking his little boy gently, the words of the song coming easier now, as though they belonged to this moment.

“Three birds of a feather…..” he continued, his lips quivering in a half-smile, memories of his mother flooding his mind. “I just hope you enjoy our company.”

His little son couldn’t help but gurgle softly at his words, and Toji took that as a good sign, his confidence growing. He walked to the large window overlooking the bright flourishing garden he had planted and let the beckoning sunlight spill over them both.

“It’s been some time and though hard to define, as if the stars have started to align…” He continued to sing softly. Toji looked down at Megumi again, his expression uncharacteristically gentle. “We are bound together, now and forever. And I will never let you go.”

His little baby boy cooed, his little hand reaching up to grasp at the fabric of Toji’s tight shirt. Toji stilled, staring at the tiny fingers that clung to him as though Megumi understood every word he’d just sung. He couldn’t help but snicker.

“Yeah, you and me, kid.” he murmured. “And mama, too. Never forget your precious mama, hm? We’re always going to be three birds of a feather, okay?”

The quiet stretched on as Toji carried Megumi back to the couch, easing down into the cushions while keeping the baby close. He thought about you, about how hard it must have been for you to leave this morning, even though you tried to hide it. He thought about how much you trusted him to take care of Megumi, how much faith you had in him to do right by your son.

And as the baby drifted off to sleep in his arms, Fushiguro Toji felt it again—that strange, overwhelming sense of belonging. It wasn’t something he’d sought out, and it sure as hell wasn’t something he thought he deserved. But as he sat there, holding Megumi, he realized that this was it. This was everything.

When you returned home later that day from work, you were tired. But you couldn’t stop smiling. As you got closer inside you found them both on the couch. Your husband Toji was leaning back, his head tilted to the side, dozing lightly. Your treasure, little Megumi, was nestled against his father’s chest, his little hand still clutching at Toji’s shirt.

You stood there for a moment, your heart swelling at the sight, and whispered. “Three birds of a feather, all three of us. Just like you said, huh, baby?”

And though Toji didn’t stir, a faint smile tugged at his lips, as if he’d heard you all the same. You stepped closer, the quiet creak of the floorboards barely stirring the peaceful scene in front of you. Toji’s chest rose and fell steadily, his broad arms wrapped protectively around Megumi. 

Your heart swelled as you watched them, a moment of stillness in your otherwise chaotic world. It wasn’t a sight you’d ever imagined when you first met Toji, but now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Careful not to wake either of them, you crouched by the couch and reached out, gently brushing your fingers through Megumi’s soft hair. His tiny face was relaxed, his mouth slightly open in the kind of sleep only babies seemed to achieve. Your gaze shifted to Toji, his sharp features softened by the faint glow of the setting sun spilling through the window.

“Toji, baby.” you whispered, keeping your voice low. “I’m home.”

His bright blue–green eyes cracked open, the colors of his irises catching the light. He blinked slowly, as if pulling himself out of a dream, and then his gaze landed on you. He processed the world and it stopped when he looked at you. Like when he met you. A small, lazy smile crept onto your husband’s beautiful lips.

“Hey, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. “You’re back. Welcome home.”

You nodded, your fingers still brushing over Megumi’s hair. “How was it? Your first day as the primary stay at home parent for the first time?”

Toji huffed a quiet laugh, shifting slightly without jostling Megumi. “Didn’t burn the place down, did I?”

You grinned, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch. “I don’t see any scorch marks at all, baby. I’d say that’s a win.”

He snorted softly, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his expression—something vulnerable. “He’s… a lot quieter than I thought he’d be. I’d always thought that young kids would be like that but….Megumi spent most of the day just watching me like I was some kind of puzzle he was trying to figure out.”

“That’s Megumi for you, you know?” you said, your smile softening. “He’s always been observant. Like someone else I know.”

Toji raised a brow, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked down at the baby in his arms, his hand shifting to rest against Megumi’s back. For a moment, he was silent, and then he spoke, his voice quieter this time.

“He’s a good kid, our little ‘gumi.” he said, almost to himself. “He doesn’t even cry much. Just stares at me like he’s waiting for me to say something smart.”

You laughed softly, careful not to wake the baby. “And did you?”

“Course not, babe.” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “But I… I talked to him. Sang, too.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You slowly smiled. You loved your husband’s voice too. And you were certain that your love for his voice was transported to your son too. “You sang to him, baby?”

Toji rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, babe. He seemed to like it, that’s all.”

Your heart melted at the thought of Toji singing to Megumi, his deep voice wrapping around words meant only for his son. You reached out, your hand covering his where it rested on Megumi’s back.

“You’re doing great, baby.” you said softly. “You know that, right? I’m so proud of you.”

He glanced at you, his expression guarded for a moment before it softened. “I’m just… figuring it out as I go. Don’t wanna mess this up.”

“You won’t, baby. I’m certain about your success.” you assured him. “Not with how much you care about him.”

Toji didn’t respond right away, but his grip on Megumi tightened slightly, as if to anchor himself. After a moment, he nodded, his gaze dropping back to the sleeping baby. He lets out a relieved sigh before letting a small smile echo on his lips.

“Yeah, I guess so.” he murmured. “We’re figuring it out. The three of us.”

“Three birds of a feather, you told me before.” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could think about it. “We’ll figure it all out.”

Toji’s lips echoed into a bigger smile, and he glanced at you, his green eyes warm. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the room, you stayed there by the couch, your hand resting over his. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t always be easy.

But as you looked at the two of them, your husband and your son, you felt the stars aligning. You were bound together, now and forever. And none of you would ever let go.

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TODAY WAS A DAY OFF. So Toji had let you doze off for a little while longer. He thought that with how you were trying to still settle with balancing life as a new mother and also a career woman, it takes a toll on you.

And more than anything, you deserve a chance to have some chance to just relax. So, you hadn’t noticed how long you had actually slept until you saw the clock by your bedside table. 10:30 am. You sat up immediately.

The moment you stepped out of your room, you tried to be as quiet as possible. A smile echoes across your lips as you find yourself stopping and listening for a moment. You could hear Toji’s deep voice coming from the living room.

It had that playful lilt he used only with Megumi—low and teasing, with just a hint of childish mockery. You smiled to yourself as you moved toward the source of the commotion.

In the living room, you found the two of them on the floor. Your two boys had a little bubble of their own. And you suspect that they've had that bubble since before dawn. Megumi gets angsty and wakes up at that time, wanting some milk.

Your husband Toji was sitting cross-legged, Megumi perched in front of him on a soft play mat. Your son’s little face was scrunched up in what could only be described as a glare, his tiny fists clenched at his sides. Your husband Toji, still rather oblivious to the budding storm brewing in his child, was grinning like an idiot.

“Megumi, hey..... kid….what’s that look for?” Toji was saying, leaning down so their faces were at the same level. “What’s with that intense focus, huh? You pooping or what? You gotta let papa know, so he can prepare. Your poop goes nuclear, you know that? Papa smells it on his hands even after he washes, hm?”

Megumi let out a frustrated sound, his little glare intensifying, which only made Toji laugh harder. “Yeah, you’re definitely working on something, aren’t you? What’s it gonna be, huh? A big one?”

“Gomi!” Megumi suddenly blurted, his little voice sharp and determined as he glared daggers at his father.

Fushiguro Toji couldn’t help but freeze up. He found himself blinking in surprise. For a moment, the world stood still as he tried to process what his little son just said, as perhaps — his very first word.  

“What?” he asked, tilting his head like he’d misheard. “Did you just call me gomi?”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh anymore, clutching the wall for support as you doubled over. The absurdity of the situation, paired with Toji’s stunned expression, was too much.Your son was always so full of surprises. 

“Oh my god, baby…..he called you trash!” you managed between laughs.

Toji turned his wide-eyed gaze to you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to figure out how to defend himself. “Hey, wait a minute! I don’t think he meant—”

“Gomi!” Megumi said again, louder this time, pointing a tiny finger at his father. His glare hadn’t wavered in the slightest, his baby cheeks puffed out in sheer indignation.

“I swear to the heavens above…” Toji said, now more flustered than you’d ever seen him. “I’m not gomi! What the hell, kid?!”

Still laughing, you finally found your balance from the laughing fits. You walked over and lowered yourself as you scooped Megumi into your arms, kissing his head as his tiny arms flailed indignantly. Your husband’s frown was evident frustration. 

“I don’t think our son’s not calling you trash, baby.” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “He’s trying to say goma. Sesame. He’s been seeing it in TV commercials when I feed him some milk these past few nights. He might have caught up with it and babbled it and…it just didn’t end up as translated.”

Toji stared at you, then at Megumi, who was now nestled against your chest, still glaring at him like he’d committed the ultimate betrayal. “Sesame?” Toji repeated, frowning. “Why the hell is he glaring at me, then?”

“Maybe because you keep asking him if he’s pooping, baby.” you said with a grin, bouncing Megumi lightly to calm him down. “Honestly, baby, would you want someone to do that to you?”

Toji groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. First real word he says to me, and it’s calling me gomi, babe. Kid’s already taking after you.”

You snorted, pressing another kiss to Megumi’s cheek. “Don’t blame me because he’s got taste, baby. Our son takes after his mother well!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Toji grumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He reached out and ruffled Megumi’s hair, despite the baby’s continued glare. “Fine, kid. I’ll let it lose this time okay? You win this time, hm? But papa is not a gomi, got it?”

Megumi didn’t respond, but the glare softened just enough for Toji to let out a relieved sigh. “That’s what I thought. Just like your mama.” he muttered, before looking back at you. “Are you laughing at me the whole time?”

“Absolutely, baby.” you said with a grin. “And I’ll be telling this story forever.”

Toji groaned again, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching upward, unable to hide his fondness as he watched Megumi settle back into your arms. Even when his son thought he was trash, Toji couldn’t help but adore him.

As the laughter subsided and your little Megumi relaxed in your arms, you couldn’t help but keep grinning at the ridiculous scene you’d just walked in on. It was like your husband found himself in outer space. And he was still debating whether aliens were real.

Fushiguro Toji sat back on his hands, still looking flabbergasted as his blue-green eyes darted between you and Megumi. HIs eyes narrowed for a moment and then a short breath releases from his lips. He shook his head, muttering under his breath.

“Unbelievable.” he grumbled, though there was a clear hint of amusement now in his tone. “First words. Gomi. What are the odds?”

You chuckled, bouncing Megumi lightly on your hip. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He’s been trying to say goma all week, and you just happened to push his buttons at the wrong time.”

“Pushed his buttons?” Toji said, straightening up. “All I did was ask if he was pooping! That’s fair game when someone’s giving you that face!”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, glancing down at Megumi, who was still sporting a little frown but had mostly calmed down. “Maybe he’s tired of you questioning his dignity, baby.” you teased. “He’s got standards, you know.”

“Standards?” Toji repeated, narrowing his eyes at his son. “This coming from a kid who tried to eat his own foot this morning?”

“Gomi!” Megumi declared again, his little finger pointing accusingly at Toji, as if to double down on his stance.

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling as you tried to hold Megumi steady. “Oh my god, Toji, baby. It's rough! you’ve been officially labeled. There’s no coming back from this now!”

Toji let out a long, exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand down his face before flopping dramatically onto his back. “This kid’s out to get me. This is just....ugh.” he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. “First it’s gomi, next thing I know, he’ll be telling his teachers I’m a garbage dad.”

“You’ll survive, baby.” you said with a grin, moving to sit beside him on the mat. Megumi squirmed in your arms, reaching out toward Toji with his chubby little hands. “See? He doesn’t mean it. He loves you, trash talk and all.”

Toji sat up just enough to take Megumi from you, holding the baby in front of him at arm’s length as if inspecting him for further insults. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Megumi.” he said, narrowing his blue-green eyes towards his little boy.

Megumi stared back at him, his lips twitching as if he was trying to form another word. For a moment, both you and Toji held your breath, waiting to see what would come out next.

“Gooooo-ma.” Megumi finally said, his voice softer this time, and he clapped his little hands together as if proud of himself. "Go-ma!"

Toji blinked, his expression shifting from stunned to triumphant. “There it is! Goma! That’s what you meant, huh? Not gomi. Goma! Great job, ‘gumi!”

“Good job, my little treasure!” you cheered, clapping along with Megumi.

Toji puffed out his chest, grinning at you like he’d just won a major battle. “See? I told you the kid doesn’t think I’m trash.”

“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t sweating there for a second, baby.” you teased, nudging him playfully.

“Whatever.” he said, pulling Megumi closer and nuzzling his cheek, much to the baby’s delight. “This little guy knows his old man’s the best out there, hm? Don’t you, kid?”

Megumi giggled, reaching up to grab a handful of Toji’s hair. Your rather contently resigned husband snickered, taking a deep sigh and letting his son do as he wished.

You let out a small laugh, your heart warm. Life was great like this. And you were truly grateful, as much as you know Toji was, that this was your life day to day.

“Yeah, yeah, baby.” you said with a fond smile, watching them. “For now, at least. Just wait until he starts picking up on all your bad habits.”

Toji shot you a playful glare, but there was nothing but warmth in his eyes as he cradled Megumi against his chest. “Bad habits, huh? I’ll teach him the important stuff. Like how to dodge a jab and—”

“And maybe not how to taunt people until they call you garbage.” you cut in, smirking at your husband.

Toji groaned, but the sound was filled with affection. “Fine, fine. You win this one. But just wait. Next word he says is gonna be dad. Calling it now, babe. Third time’s the charm!”

“Whatever you say, gomi–kun.” you teased, unable to resist one last jab.

He shot you a look, but the soft laugh he let out was enough to tell you he didn’t mind. In fact, you could tell he was enjoying every bit of this—your teasing, Megumi’s growing personality, the quiet chaos of your little family.

And as you watched him hold Megumi, the baby now giggling uncontrollably as Fushiguro Toji playfully poked his chubby cheeks, you knew there was no place any of you both would rather be.

Especially your beloved husband. Even if Megumi decided to call him gomi again tomorrow. That all didn't matter. As long as you were together, happy and content.

══════════════════

epilogue 

The next morning, after breakfast and while you were doing the laundry, the air was thick with anticipation. The kind of anticipation that only a determined father can have when his child is on the verge of accomplishing a great feat—like calling him "oto-san" or "dad".

Toji, sitting on the floor cross-legged like he was preparing for a life-altering event, had a ridiculous amount of hope in his eyes. Megumi was seated in front of him on the playmat, his big bright blue–green eyes wide and serious, as if he understood the gravity of the moment.

“Oto-san.” Toji said, his voice impossibly soft, practically dripping with encouragement. “Say it with me, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it, little man.”

Megumi, who was sitting cross-legged just like his dad (it was adorable how he tried to copy every little thing Toji did), looked up at him, his tiny face scrunched up as he processed the words. He was staring at Toji like he was decoding some ancient language, his eyes darting from Toji's mouth to his eyes, clearly focused.

Toji waited, leaning in a little closer as though the two of them were sharing a secret. “Oto-san. Come on. Say it.” Toji repeated slowly for his little son. “O-to-san.”

Megumi blinked once, twice, and you could practically hear the little gears turning in his mind, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was exaggerated. “Gomi!”

You couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. The way your Toji looked completely deflated at the sound of the word—again—was too much. He had been trying so hard to do what he could since this morning and so far, Megumi hasn't been cooperating.

He slumped back onto his hands, shaking his head in mock exasperation, though you could see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts to act annoyed.

"Not again, kid!" Toji groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m not gomi! I’m Oto-san! You’re really gonna call me trash again, huh?”

Megumi, blissfully unaware of the comedic frustration he was causing, grinned up at Toji. His tiny face lit up like a lightbulb, pleased with the attention, clearly proud of himself for having mastered the art of taunting his father in a single syllable.

“I swear, kid…..” Toji muttered, but his voice was full of affection. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You leaned against the doorframe, watching the whole thing unfold, utterly charmed by the two of them. Toji, the intimidating figure who was capable of single-handedly taking down enemies twice his size, now reduced to a pile of goo over his son’s simple interactions. 

And Fushiguro Megumi, with his wide, innocent eyes, staring at his dad like he was the most important person in the world.

“Let’s try again, okay?” Toji said, his tone shifting back to encouragement. “Come on, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it.”

Megumi was still focused on Toji, his big eyes narrowed in thought, like he was really going to work for this one. And for a moment, Toji’s gaze softened, watching his son struggle so seriously with something as simple as a word. There was no trace of impatience on his face now, only patience and quiet joy at being in this moment with his son, who was so determined.

“O-to-san” Toji repeated slowly, the words rolling off his tongue like they were sacred, full of meaning. “O-to-san.”

Megumi blinked again and then, just as you thought the whole thing was going to repeat itself with another triumphant “Gomi” — your little treasure of a son did something that was rather unexpected, even for his own father.

He looked down at his little hands for a moment, and then, in a burst of focus, he looked back up at Toji. This time, his little mouth formed the word slowly, with effort. “O...to...san.”

Toji froze. His entire body stilled, as if the universe itself had shifted. He blinked, then blinked again, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Did... did you just say—” His voice was breathless, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you just say... Oto-san?”

Megumi’s face lit up with an innocent pride, a mischievous little grin spreading across his face as though he knew he’d just done something monumental. He reached up, patting Toji’s cheek, as if confirming what had just happened.

Toji, his heart swelling with emotions you didn’t even know he was capable of, immediately scooped Megumi into his arms. The baby squealed, giggling in surprise as he was lifted up, and Toji held him close, pressing his cheek against his son’s own chubby ones.

“You did it, kid. You really said it. O-to-san.” He repeated it like he was relishing every syllable. “Dad. Oto–san.” he whispered, almost in awe. “You said it.”

You couldn’t contain the warm laugh that bubbled up from your chest, a soft, happy sound that filled the room as you walked over to them. You bent down, brushing a hand through Megumi’s soft hair as he clung to his dad, who was still holding him in a vice grip, clearly elated.

“Oh my god, Toji, baby.” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “You did it. You’re officially Oto-san.”

Toji looked up at you, a grin breaking across his face, his eyes shining with joy. “You hear that? Oto-san! He said it!” His voice was practically vibrating with excitement.

You leaned in to kiss Megumi’s cheek, and he responded by beaming up at you, his tiny arms reaching toward both of you as if he was basking in the love that was flooding the room. "He’s got his first word," you said softly, holding him gently. “Oto-san.”

Toji’s expression softened, his hands tightening around his son as if he were trying to hold onto this moment forever. “Man, I never thought I’d get to hear that. First ‘gomi’ and then ‘Oto-san’... I’m already getting my father of the year award.”

“Definitely, baby.” you teased, sitting down beside them. “First he calls you trash, now he’s calling you dad. You’re on a roll!”

Toji grinned widely, holding Megumi up like he’d just won a trophy. “Yeah, well, I’m Oto-san now. All the ‘gomi’ in the world can’t take that away from me.”

Megumi, as if he understood the gravity of the moment, raised his hands in a victorious gesture, causing both of you to laugh. Toji’s joy was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell that, for him, this moment, this small, perfect moment—was everything to your husband.

As you all sat together, with Megumi snuggled between you and Toji, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Toji might have started this whole "Oto-san" lesson with a bit of desperation, but now, he was on top of the world. 

The way Megumi had slowly figured out the word, and the way Toji had been so patient—there was a deep love in the room. It wasn’t just about the word itself; it was about the bond they were building.

“I think he’s got it, baby.” you said, watching as Toji continued to whisper the word to Megumi. “Oto-san... your first real word. He’ll be saying it a lot from now on.”

Toji, still holding Megumi close, sighed happily, a sense of peace settling over him. “Yeah.” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “Oto-san. I’m good with that.”

And in that moment, with the three of you together in the warmth of your home, everything felt right.

[autistichalsin]

PSA for omnivores

Hi! Vegetarian here.

I just wanted to let you guys know a few things for reference!

Vegetarian and vegan is not the same thing. All vegans are vegetarian, but not all vegetarians are vegan. Vegans are generally much stricter in their diets; while most vegetarians generally will eat eggs, dairy, and honey, vegans do not. However, some vegetarians don't eat eggs, either.

Most vegetarians do not eat seafood, though some do. No vegans eat seafood.

Not every vegetarian is also gluten-free, though some are.

There are many different reasons one might be vegetarian or vegan. Sometimes it's an animal rights or environmentalist issue, sometimes it's religious, sometimes it's health-related, and some people just don't like the taste and/or texture.

Please don't try to argue with us about our reasons for not eating meat, or try to convince us our diets are unhealthy. Yes, this includes concerns about protein and/or iron. With beans, legumes, and other such things, some vegetarians can eat even more protein than omnivores!

For the love of god and everything holy, please don't try to sneak meat or meat products into food, even if you're sure we "won't notice."

In general, if you wouldn't like a vegetarian doing it to you, don't do it to a vegetarian, whether that's tricking you into eating something, debating their religion, or expressing invasive health concerns.

That said, if you know a person well and have genuine, good-faith questions to ask, it is okay to ask them if they'd be willing to talk about it. Just don't be upset if they say no!

When in doubt about if something is suitable for a vegetarian, please ask! Most of us would rather read an entire ingredients list front-to-back, back-to-front, up-to-down, and down-to-up than eat something we try to exclude from our diets.

If you are at a setting (potluck, holiday dinner, etc) with a vegetarian, and there are both meat main dishes and vegetarian ones available, please wait for the vegetarian(s) to have gotten food before trying the vegetarian ones. You have no idea how upsetting it can be to be one of maybe five vegetarians at a gathering of fifty, and watch as all of the meat-eaters devour the cheese and veggie supreme pizza slices first, so that by the time we reach the line, there's only ten meat lovers pies left. If there is only a single vegetarian option, please don't eat it unless you absolutely have to.

Some items are often considered vegetarian-friendly, but in truth, aren't. Some of these include:

Worcestershire sauce. Aside from a few specifically vegan brands, these contain anchovies.

Meat broths, bouillons, etc. Yes, we do consider chicken broth not to be vegetarian, even if the soup itself has no actual meat in it.

Many kinds of miso are made with bonito flakes, and are therefore not vegetarian.

Many foods contain seafood derivatives for flavor; this also happens fairly often with chicken being added as well.

Caesar dressing contains anchovies, and is not vegetarian.

Foods cooked on the same surfaces as meat. Some vegetarians do not want to eat these (though others are more lax about this). In general, fast-food places and chain restaurants do not have designated vegetarian-friendly surfaces, and would therefore not fit the dietary preferences of a vegetarian who doesn't want to eat food cooked with meat.

"Jojo" potatoes (also known as fried potato wedges) are traditionally cooked in the same fryer as meat items such as fried seafood, chicken, etc.

Aside from some specific kinds, such as mushroom or onion, gravies are not vegetarian.

Many canned beans, refried beans, etc are not vegetarian as they are often cooked in lard.

Many brands and flavors of stovetop stuffing are not vegetarian. Ironically, the only flavor of Kraft's stovetop stuffing that is vegetarian is the pork-flavor one, while the savory herb one is not suitable for vegetarians.

Food that once had meat on it. Many, though not all, vegetarians do not consider "picking the meat off" of an item that had it (I.E. pepperoni pizza) to be acceptable. Part of the issue is the contact with meat, and another is that the flavors and oils will have seeped all over it. Have you ever noticed how much greasier the boxes are for pepperoni pizzas than for cheese ones? You are definitely free to ask, but please don't get offended if a vegetarian doesn't consider picking meat off of a dish to make it vegetarian-friendly.

Many storebought brands of puff pastry, pie crust, and etc are made with lard.

Many cheeses are made with rennet (an enzyme crucial for the making of many kinds of cheese) that is derived from animal stomachs and therefore not vegetarian. While some brands use microbial or plant-blased rennet, which are vegetarian, it is safe to assume that cheeses like parmesan or gruyere are not vegetarian, especially if they are traditional/DOP cheeses.

Anything with gelatin, as this is a byproduct of meat production. However, please note that some vegetarians are less fussy with byproducts than others, and this definitely falls into the "ask first" category.

Some, though not all, wines and beers use animal products in the process of purifying them.

Protein powder is usually produced using animal proteins.

Sugar, believe it or not, as often bone char is added to improve the whiteness. Try looking for vegan brands.

A lot of manufacturers love sneaking animal products into things it doesn't belong in, and it is really a miserable experience to get "meated". If you're cooking for or eating with a vegetarian, no one expects you to know everything, but again, when in doubt, ask! There's a lot of little things you can do to make it easier, especially during the holiday season. <3

[koolades-world]

So I actually just read the post about an MC who is very avoidant and has taste and texture issues with foods and it delighted me because I am a person who loves to cook and actively enjoy being given restrictions in textures when cooking so I can make things everyone can eat. And I'm the exact opposite who with very few exceptions (like allergies) will eat ANYTHING. (and have learned about allergies the hard way once) So - maybe - the direct opposite - the MC who will try ANYTHING that doesn't eat them first.

hi!! so glad you enjoyed that post enough to request! while my requests are actually closed right now, i actually really liked this and decided to do it anyways! this doesn't mean i'll do this for everyone, because then am i really closing my requests?

but anyways! had lots of fun writing this! perfect for right before thanksgiving, because food mmmmmmm. i'm baking a cheesy bread this year for my contribution :)

Mc who will try anything

Lucifer

he won't lie, you do worry him a little

so many devildom foods are not safe for human consumption

but yet, you shove it into your pie hole without a second though

he's always prepared to help you if you eat something bad however

Mammon

he's thrilled because that means he always has a buddy!

you'll help each other out if you're a little hesitant to try something new

it's all fun and games until you accidently eat something that turns you into the human equivalent of drugs again

he will most likely cry and quickly find you help lol

Levi

will ask you lots of questions about the taste and textures of foods

that way, he knows if he wants to try them or not

you’re much more adventurous than he is

he knows you don’t mind being the taste tester for both of you!

Satan

he’s very curious

surely there’s something you’re opposed to trying, right?

boy was he wrong

once, he offered you something you both knew would have adverse affects on humans and freaked out when you still ate it… he never did that again

Asmo

he constantly tells you that you’re glowing

he swears it’s because you’re so open to trying new things

you’re not sure if that’s how that works, but if that’s what he wants to believe, sure

it’s not everyday someone is complimented to that degree by him

Beel

instant best friends!

he's so glad that someone else can see the appeal and how tasty everything looks

maybe even some not foods. so what if that plate looked good?

anyways, he'll call you over as soon as he sees something new and interesting to try!

Belphie

he's quick to learn all of your favorite devildom and human world foods

whenever you're having a bad day, he'll make it appear for you <3

if he sees something he knows you haven’t tried, he’ll pick it up for you

after making sure you can eat it, of course

[thefandomenchantress]

tw:: e/d

I'm starting to think Ace's eating disorder isn't anorexia, but ARFID. Bulimia is an option, too, but hear me out.

Anorexia is when people who hate their bodies and want to make it better. It's the most common eating disorder, but again, has a different meaning than what people believe it to be.

I'll elaborate: When people think 'eating disorder', their mind automatically goes to anorexia or bulimia. But when the e/d doesn't involve throwing up they think-- 'oh, you don't eat? It's anorexia.' Again, anorexia develops when you don't eat because you have self-image issues relating to the body.

It's not confirmed if Ace thinks this way, but based on evidence, ARFID suits him better.

ARFID stands for Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder. It means you avoid food, or you are restricted from food.

Ace fits both categories.

He's a jockey, which means he has a diet and isn't allowed to eat certain foods. I could add the 'he hates meat' thing, but people can be vegan/vegetarian without gaining an e/d, but what I can highlight is why he hates it. He hates it for texture, if I'm understanding correctly, so that fits under the Avoidant category. So, he fits under both.

But here's something interesting: people with ARFID involve other things like ADHD, anxiety, and autism.

I think it's safe to say Ace has autism.

People with ARFID don't eat certain foods because of the taste, or texture, and-- get this-- the fear of choking, dying, vomiting, or pain.

I rest my case.

https://kidshealth.org/en/parents/arfid.html#:~:text=What%20Is%20ARFID%3F,poor%20growth%20and%20poor%20nutrition.

Hmm, I've never had an eating disorder myself, and I don't think I'm informed enough to make any big judgements on this, but your reasoning seems to be pretty sound.

I think the argument for it being anorexia was that Ace restricts out of a need for control. He's always goes on about how there are so many things in life he can't control, but he can control his weight. And since being the weight he is directly connects to his success as a jockey, he also does it as a way to assure himself he's not a failure. Which sounded right to me, though again, I'm by no means an expert.

And honestly, I always figured him hating meat probably had something to do with seeing a horse getting put down when he was a kid and never being able to look at it the same way again. Y'know, because of his whole fear of death thing, and meat is made of dead animals (animals being something Ace is often compared to). And once he thought about it, he couldn't unthink about how the meat he consumed used to be alive.

Still, your explanation also makes sense! Especially the fear of dying part. I never would've considered it being ARFID, despite doing research into it in the past for other reasons. And now I'm a little surprised no one's brought this up before, to my knowledge. Thanks for sharing with me!

[vladdyissues]

Do you think Vlad would force Danny to eat greens and vegetables?, I feel like I'd be screaming like, "Don't you dare turn invisible, young man! You'll eat the carrots!" , For some reason I feel like Danny is very 'special' with food, He has the taste of a 5 year old

Oh, definitely. Maybe not force him—Danny would just dig his heels in and refuse with even greater vehemence—but I think Vlad would be mindful of Danny's health, especially since I feel like his parents weren't very concerned about making sure he eats a balanced diet. I think the Fentons thought as long as he ate something, even sugary cereal loaded with dyes and artificial flavors, they were doing okay as parents.

In the Fentons' defense, it's difficult getting kids to eat, especially picky ones or ones who may be autistic and have texture issues. It's a game of tug-o-war. If they can get Danny to eat something healthy, even if it's drowned in butter or salad dressing or served alongside the greasiest, most bacon-laden, heart-attack-inducing cheeseburger ever created, it's a victory.

I actually touched on this subject in Familiar. For context, Vlad has taken Danny in after the Nasty Burger tragedy and is trying to get him to eat more vegetables, which may benefit his core powers:

[Danny] turned and headed toward the stairs. “I’m starving. I’m gonna go finish off the rest of the pizza.” “Have a salad with it, please.” “That’s less room for pizza.” “Eat the salad, Daniel. I don’t care if you smother it with dressing, just eat something green.” “I eat green stuff all the time,” Danny complained, though he’d already decided to eat a salad. Vlad made a killer homemade ranch dressing. “The school lunches are half vegetables. My spectral class is gonna be chlorophyll if I keep this up.” A grin came to Vlad’s lips as he wrestled off his boots. “That’s hardly the worst that could happen.” He raised his head. His cheeks were still pink from the chill. “Please? For your miserable old cousin Vlad?” “All right, fine, God.”

Vlad may not have children, but I'm certain he's clever enough to know how to make certain foods more appealing to Danny. (I headcanon that Vlad is something of a gourmet. I mean, did you see that banana split he made in Torrent of Terror?)

[toxintouch]

Cooking headcannons for touchstarved Li’s when? 👀

Apparently now, anon! Some Cooking/Baking/General Meal Time headcanons. Sorry as always that I am so late, lol. I got distracted by Halloween/October things. ✦✦✦✦✦

Vere: ✦ Canonically, he’s bad at it. But W H Y?? ✦ When I thought about why Vere might be a bad cook I decided he is likely the kind to get distracted, try to make everything at once, get bored with the instructions, etc. It's not the kind of food he craves, so cooking is very low-stakes to him. ✦ I’m trying to decide if I think his sense of taste is remarkably different from a human. Since his nose is impeccable, he SHOULD be able to determine if something is going to be good or not… ✦ Perhaps the real issue standing in his way is: Human food does not satiate him.

✦ Though he does have human foods he likes to eat. He's a texture person.  Loves a delicate texture, easy to slice through with his fangs.  Something supple. ✦ When he gets the cooking urge, he cooks a ton of food at once. Absolutely no intention of eating most of it. ✦ MC: “Who is going to eat this?”   Vere: “I’ve been fairly blatant about my interest in doing so, but you are willfully obtuse.” ✦ If you'll allow me to quote myself:

"Vere cooks how others might enjoy a leisurely stroll. 

Which is to say: he seems to be having fun, but you’re not convinced he intends on really going anywhere." The journey is often the destination. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: (If he likes you:) "I suppose. If you think you have the stamina." If he doesn't like you it's still a yes but you're the meal. ✦ If you're helping him cook, BE CAREFUL WITH THE KNIFE!  If you nick yourself and draw blood...you might get more than you bargained for...

Leander: ✦ The fandom has spoken. This man can't cook. He's just...too innovative.~ He could follow a recipe. He won't...but he could. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: He actually sounds awkward for a moment. “Ooohh, uh... you want to cook together?”  But he bounces back quickly.  “Of course we can do that! Sounds like fun. I’m sure our favorite barkeep won’t mind, we can use the kitchen here!”  (She minds.  She looks in on the two of you frequently to make sure you’re not going to burn the Wick down.) ✦ If you know your way around the kitchen already, he's happy to take a backseat. :) He measures out ingredients and has them all neatly ready for you. ✦ If you make him take the lead: Is that sweat sliding down the back of his neck? And his face is awfully red. "Ah, actually, I just thought of a better idea." How about the two of you rely on the expertise of your favorite cooks/bakers from around town for this one? Really immerse yourselves for a day (er, a few hours), learn from a professional. Who would you like to teach you? He can pull some strings and make it happen! :) :) :) ✦ ~Magical meal prep.~ He slices and dices with spell work. Like it's a party trick and not a potentially grisly weapon. Don't think too hard on the other potential applications of that spell, okay? :) ✦ Everything can be improved with cheese! (AKA: He puts cheese on top of everything.) ✦ He's unlikely to share this part of himself of his own accord, but... Naturally, he still knows all of his high society dining etiquette.  He can tell you all about place settings and the correct formal silverware order and how to tell which fork is the dessert fork, etc. Hopefully you'll never be put in a situation where that's knowledge that you need. He really doesn't want to subject you to that kind of person, if he can help it. Those people are closer to the Senobium and most would do anything for a favor. Best to stick to places where it's more safe. Right here next to him is free. ✦ He has a brilliant mind for what wines go with what foods. One of the few drink recommendations you can trust him on. "Of course, these are all just suggestions. What matters is that you're drinking what you like, right?" (<- He's trying to sell you on his new mixolology concoction. Do not trust.) ✦ Could hold a formal tea for you but you will really have to wheedle it out of him. And he'll only say yes if you agree that it stays between the two of you. "You have to pinky promise." ;) and it only counts if it's bare skin. ✦ That said, he's at his most comfortable when he's in some little hole-in-the-wall, enjoying great local food that someone else made. ✦ Extremely interested in any dishes you enjoy that are local to your home/culturally significant to you. Will hunt someone down who can make them for you if you're feeling homesick. (Or will find the ingredients if you prefer to make it yourself.) He's a good guy like that. :)

Kuras: ✦ He tries to make the recipe but he just makes things worse. Like many things in his long life. ✦ He's worse than Vere. A lot worse. 'Possibly the worst cook in the entire city' type worse. ✦ Cooking is just so outside of his realm of existence. ✦ It doesn't help that Everything tastes like p u r e n o t h i n g to him. It's not just that he doesn't need to eat, the very sensation of taste is beyond him. ✦ But he occasionally likes to try to make food for his friends and loved ones. He understands that food sharing is an important human social behavior and he'd like to participate how he can and show that he values his bonds with the people he chooses. ✦ He is uniquely awful at it though. Time has made very little improvement. ✦ Ever since that Valentine's Day cake, baking is his ✨passion.✨ Mhin had a good reaction, so he's decided not to give; he made such an obvious breakthrough with that one. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: He accepts immediately. He's overjoyed. "I'm sure this will be an enlightening experience. I confess myself as rather lacking when it comes to this activity so please consider me your humble student. Anything you wish to teach me would be appreciated." ✦ Of course, the two of you will have to work around the clinic's schedule. (You ought to realize quickly that he does not have a good gauge of time when it comes to meals. Take the initiative or starve tbh.) ✦ He is very attentive to everything you say.  His earnest face while listening to you is unbearably adorable.  Frequently tilts his head like a cat. ✦ He hangs off your every word and even asks questions.  Though, some of the questions you don’t quite know how to answer.  (“When you chew, do you instinctively know how many times is appropriate, or must you count?”  “....I…what?”) ✦ You think that particular question might be a joke... Hard to say. ✦ Even when you are running the show and watching him to make sure he does everything right…every time something somehow ends up going wrong. ✦ Pro tip: don't let him put anything into the oven or determine the cooking/baking times. Otherwise, things will get...strange. ✦ You are the test subject–I mean: taste tester.  Kuras insists that your opinion is of the utmost importance.  Are you brave enough?  If not, are you tough enough to politely decline when his eyes are sparkling softly with affection and excitement like that??

Think of it this way:

If you get sick (which you will) you’re already at the doctor’s!  ✨Convenient!✨ ✦ Comfortable silence in the kitchen when they two of you are working together. <3 ...As soon as you accept that nothing will be edible. Actually, maybe you should stop this. This is probably more food waste than a post-apocalyptic world can afford.

Ais: ✦ Of course he knows how. ✦ Well.  Maybe not him specifically. But give him a moment, he’s pretty sure he’s got the equivalent of a Michelin 3 Star chef (or two, but who’s counting?) “in here somewhere.”  (He taps on his temple.) ✦ He doesn't have an interest in human food. "You want recommendations try asking Pretty Boy." ✦ He does like to experiment with making treats for his Soulless.  He’s bought them snacks from the market on occasion, but he likes the feeling of taking care of them and providing for them contributing with his own hands.  Plus, he can make them treats that are a lot less grain heavy.  They prefer meat.

✦ (Most aren't stupid enough to try and poison the treats he buys, but he did kill someone for trying once. Not that the shit they put inside was strong enough. He ate the stupid biscuit right in front of them just to prove a point. Last thing they ever saw.) ✦ If the Sea Spring has a kitchen…look, he hasn't been in there in a while. There might be mold.  There is almost certainly mold. ✦ Luckily, Kuras has a kitchen!  And he doesn’t seem to use it, so it’s basically free real estate.  If Ais is ever in need of somewhere to cook or bake, he’ll be using Kuras’ space. ✦ He can do meat preparation really well (he’s an absolute butcher with anything sharp) and smoke meat really well but spending an overabundance of his time preparing meals (meals that aren't even the preferred sustenance of Monsters like him) feels like a poor use of his life. He's got shit to do. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: "Huh... Nah. Don't think I will..." <- neutral bastard “Or what?” <- He feels like riling you up a little extra today. ✦ (You're more likely to get that experience if you catch him doing it of his own accord and join in/keeping him company in the clinic while he works.)

Mhin: ✦ Diametrically opposed to Leander (and Vere), they will follow the recipe exactly whenever possible. ✦ The only one you can trust to make something edible without fail. ✦ Mhin is an alchemist.  Cooking and baking are both easy for them.  None of these components are even going to explode or create poisonous gas if mixed.  The worst thing that will happen is that they’ll eat a meal they aren’t completely satisfied with.  (And honestly, what else is new these days?) ✦ They are impressively quick and precise in the kitchen!  They can cut things so fast! Can also cut fruit into animal shapes for reasons that they will not explain. ✦ When they cook, they are making meals to feed themself.  It’s a necessity that they are performing to keep themself able to tolerate their strenuous life. At the same time, it relaxes them to an extent–it grounds them, it’s something concrete to focus on that isn’t … –but it’s a necessity first and foremost. ✦ Mhin’s cooking has a tendency to be b l a n d.  They are filled with too much self-loathing to season more interested in the nutritional value of the meal than its flavor.  Plus, spices are costly and they aren’t about to spend any of their hard earned money on the luxury of taste. ✦ Mhin’s baking is significantly more inspired than their cooking.  If they have the good fortune and the wherewithal to bake themself a little treat, they have a good intuition for (delicate, sweet) flavors.  They never get the opportunity, but.  The ability is there. ✦ In another life (an easier life) baking could have been a hobby. ✦ You ask them to cook or bake with you?: "..." Mhin isn’t the type to teach someone, but… If you're any good, you could be a useful second pair of hands. If you're hopeless...they should really leave you to your own devices, but… someone needs to tell you to stop holding a knife like that. It's annoying to look at. It will just take them a few seconds to correct you. And then you're on your own! (They still stay. They were using Kuras' kitchen first.) ✦ Will scold you for holding the knife wrong.  Tries to explain the correct way–which is to say, the safest way–to handle it but...  They’re not used to having to verbalize their thoughts/instructions to people, since they are always alone. ✦ So they'll finally just settle in behind you and show you how to position your hands and cut away from yourself. ✦ Backs off ASAP because being able to feel your body heat and being so close to you flusters them.  (Not to mention whatever is happening with your hands.) They go off into their own little corner to meal prep extra because they want to be prepared–definitely not so that they can look away from you and focus on something else for a while. ✦ Mhin can tell you about the chemical reaction that makes bread rise.  Mhin can tell you why and how each ingredient is important, which ones you can skip and substitute if supplies in this post Fogfall world are running low.  Mhin can tell you that you are not doing that right, what are you doing?  Stop.  That is way too much vanilla extract. ✦ If you ever reach their maximum affection level: Their face looks like it is absolutely on fire when they offer to share their favorite dessert this dessert they’ve really been craving with you.  They’ll even teach you how to make it, and you two could make it together if you'd like...

[zoobiefish]

I am WAY behind on Auctober again! Ugh, university, am I right?? 😩 Hopefully for the final 2 days I’ll get some art done for it, but in my years of accepting my Autism I’ve come to understand that I can’t always meet NT expectations—and that’s okay 😁 Anyway, let’s get caught up:

22: Disabled

Yes, Autism is a disability. Yes, I am disabled. And that’s okay! I often see able-bodied and able-minded people treat the term “disabled” as if it is a dirty word. They’ll try to fluff it up by replacing it with “differently abled” or similar terms. But the truth is that by fluffing up the terminology, you do more harm than good—all it does is make disability more stigmatized than it already is. So yes, the term is “disabled.” It’s not a slur, it’s not a dirty word—it’s just a word! And it accurately describes me as well. There are some things that I will never be able to do that NTs can do with ease and take for granted…and that’s perfectly—you guessed it—okay! I have challenges in my daily life that will never go away. All that means though is that I need the proper supports in place so I can function. Now, I do need to acknowledge that my Autism is considered “high-functioning” (clinical words, not mine!) so I understand that I don’t face nearly the same struggles as “low-functioning” or “middle-functioning” (again NOT my choice of words) Autistic people do. I do struggle with the things the majority of Autistic people across the spectrum struggle with though; I have extreme difficult reading non-verbal cues, understanding tone of voice or text, facial expressions…and this can often lead to unintended hurt feelings—whether they be mine or someone else’s. I also struggle very much with sensory issues. Crowds, loud noises, squishy, rubbery textures, and certain smells can set off a panic attack and/or meltdown in me. I often have to wear headphones if I know something like construction is going to occur where I live—power tools are my KRYPTONITE!! I also get stressed and overwhelmed extremely easily. I find I have to come up with a lot of strategies and life hacks to keep up with the demands of university life that most don’t have a problem with. These are just to name a few of my struggles—I could be here all day explaining all the ways Autism affects my life, but I got more prompts to catch up on!

23: Synesthesia

Oooo, a fun one! I wish I could say have the really cool synesthesia people talk about in the media a lot—but I don’t 😅 I have associative synesthesia I believe it’s called. Basically, I don’t literally see sounds as colours in my peripheral vision, or literally taste colours when I see them or anything like that. But I do *associate* different stimuli with senses they shouldn’t be related to. There are different subcategories of associative synesthesia, but I don’t have the spoons to explain them here so please Google it haha! Anyway, what I do find is that I associate certain colours with tastes. Blue for instance tastes like icing/frosting/whatever you wanna call it on a cake. Red tastes like sour cherry candies. Yellow tastes like Lucky Charms marshmallows. Another weird synesthesia thing I have is that certain numbers are always certain colours in my mind. 1 is black, 2 is light green, 3 is red, 4 is navy blue etc. Also I read somewhere that this particular thing is synesthesia, though I could be wrong: but as a kid I always associated numbers with certain character archetypes. I even cut out paper dolls of them and played with them! 1 was the “everyman” kind of character. 2 was kinda ditsy and the sidekick to 1, like Patrick from Spongebob. I don’t remember any other numbers in between but I know that 5 was a conniving used carsalesman type of character, and 7 was the logical, rational one that was always trying to get 5 out of trouble—much to his chagrin. Man, this last factoid would’ve fit with the vivid imagination prompt! 🤣🤣🤣

24: Genetic

I don’t know honestly what all to say about this one, sorry! But I do know that while we don’t have *all* the answers yet, Autism does seem to be caused by several genetic factors. It can also run in families. I’m Autistic, 2 of my nephews are Autistic, and there’s a couple other older family members I suspect could be Autistic too—though I’m no clinician.

25: Pets

I grew up with cats all my life!! They have always been my comfort animal and I think it might be because cats remind me a lot of Autistic people: they’re misunderstood as being cold and unfeeling, but if they get to know you they can be your best friend. They can be very loving and show affection in ways you may not understand but should be appreciated regardless. They like quiet, they tend to gravitate towards their “person,” they are typically introverted, and they can get laser focused on an object of interest. My current cat is named Curry, though I call him “Sir Curry” because he’s my knight in fuzzy armour! He always knows how to comfort me when I’m sad, having a meltdown, or panicking. And he makes me laugh and gives the best cuddles! 🥰 🐈‍⬛

26: Fidgeting

I fidget a lot when I am nervous. I’ll typically play with stuff like buttons or zippers on my sweaters, or play with my lanyard that has my student card on it.

27: Stimming

Stimming is something I do A LOT!! For the uninformed, stimming refers to repetitive behaviours in Autistic (and other neurodivergent) people that helps us to regulate our senses and/or emotions. Stimming can be done for a lot of reasons—we might be super happy, we might be overstimulated, we might be *under*stimulated, we might be anxious…it could be any number of reasons, but it’s usually a way to burn off extra energy at least in my case. When I’m really, REALLY happy, I’ll kinda bounce on the ball of my feet or tap my fingers together repeatedly. When I’m excited or nervous, I shake my foot. Sometimes I rock back and forth when I’m sitting as well if I’m happy or nervous. A lot of times though, I’ll have a fidget toy with me! My favourites are any that nake clicky noises or have buttons and switches and such on then, like my fidget cube!!

28: Safe Foods

“Safe foods” refer to foods that Autistic people can eat all the time no problem because we know exactly what to expect from them. Autistic people are often stereotyped as being “picky eaters” but more often than that there’s more to it than just being “picky.” A lot of foods can taste different or have a different texture depending on how fresh it is, how ripe it is, how it’s prepared etc. which is why many Autistic people have trouble with fruits and vegetables. Myself, I don’t have much problem with most fruits and vegetables. I would even go as far to say I’m a bit of a foodie if it weren’t for the fact that I tend to eat small amounts throughout the day instead of 3 square meals a day 😅 However, I do refuse to eat pasta, any kind of noodles, jell-o, pudding or anything similarly squishy and rubbery. I just can’t do it! It makes me gag! 🤢 I also can’t deal with blueberries. The smell alone makes me nauseous!!

29: Empathy

Ahh, another commonly misunderstood aspect of Autism. Despite popular belief, most Autistic people (at least that I know) are *very* empathetic people—myself included! In fact, I would say I feel *too* much empathy, and many Autistic people feel the same. I don’t claim to be a professional so take what I say with a grain of salt and fact check with your own research, but my understanding is that today’s literature on Autism claims that Autistic people usually struggle with specific *types* of empathy rather than empathy altogether. For myself, I struggle to put myself in another person’s “shoes” so to speak. But that doesn’t mean I can’t understand what emotion a person is likely feeling in a given moment. I have an example that isn’t my own experience but rather the experience of another Autistic person I know, but I very much relate to it: When this person was a kid, they saw their mom get hurt and saw that she was in pain. They didn’t know what to do because they couldn’t exactly understand their mom’s perspective, but they understood in general that the mom was in pain and they empathized with that. So they grabbed their favourite comfort toy and offered it to their mom. Now I don’t know about you, but I would certainly call that “empathy” of some kind! I will say though that there *are* some Autistic people who don’t experience empathy at all. However, it’s important to know that lack of empathy does not make a person “evil” or anything. There is more to being a decent human being than empathy after all.

Anyway, that’s all for now! We’re almost done Auctober, I can’t believe it!! It went by so fast aaaaaaa!!!

[a-killer-obsession]

Android!Killer notes and lore

Post will probably be updated over time as I think of more things 💙

Official name: Killer 2.0. Bounty posters call him Metal Man Killer. Marines considered him a new pirate, so he had to start his bounty from scratch, and as such is no longer considered a Supernova

Built by Kid to deal with his grief after Killer dies. Android contains his brain, retrieved from his original body after it took too much damage to support life

If you see posts with him interacting with original Killer its cos its just a fun lighthearted alternate timeline where Kid just built him as a replacement just in case. Don't ask me how he gave it Killer's personality, those posts are just for the giggles

Uses his original mask (repaired and restored) as headpiece. Lights have been installed in the holes to fill the gaps and hide the underlying electronics and brain

Helmet contains lenses for vision. Equiped with higher level vision such as nightvision, thermal imagining and xray

Aerial on side of helmet allows for better hearing as well as allowing others to communicate with him directly via den-den

Just as strong and agile as he was in his human body, though it did take a lot of physical rehab to get used to the mechanical body

Metal sections made from high quality metals making him essentially bullet proof

Basically, he's a purpose built super soldier

Water resistant, but not submerge safe. Kid is a skilled engineer, but hes no Vegapunk. Killer 2.0 can not submerge his chest section, or his systems will fail to work, and much like a devil fruit user he would sink like a stone. He can be pulled out and repaired, his brain is well protected, but he can't save himself

Chest, abdomen and buttocks are squishy, imagine the texture/firmness of those silicone chicken fillets you use to make your tits look bigger

Has a cock that's essentially a dildo that can emerge from a slit in the rubber between his legs, and yes it can vibrate

He can feel touch on most of his body, though mostly it just feels like pressure, he's basically a touch lamp, but Kid had Franky help him wire some parts to feel more, such as his hands and dick, allowing for pleasure, though he doesn't really have the ability to 'finish'. He can recieve an artificial boost of hormones to simulate pleasure and satisfaction but thats as close as it gets

Why did Kid give him a dick? Because he's a good friend, that's why totally no other reason

No mouth or asshole though, bit of an oversight on Kid's part tbh

Doesn't actually plug his hair in to sleep, those cables are entirely just scrap for show, hastily spraypainted to replicate Killer's hair. He does get plugged in to charge, but his cable comes out of the panel on of of his hands (both hands have charging cables for convenience so he can use whichever side is easier)

Lights flash when he's on charge because Kid stole the wiring and coding from some random electronic. He regrets it every fucking night.

Spends a lot of time oiling and polishing his hair cables and touching up the paint, it's sort of a force of habit but mostly it makes him feel more normal. Ties his hair up with zipties sometimes.

Serious mental health issues. I mean come on, the dude went through all the Wano bullshit, literally fucking died, and now he's not even human. Please someone get him some therapy. Sometimes uses his old lipstick to draw a big smile on his mask when he's having a mental breakdown.

Still loves to cook, but now he has to have a taste tester with him because he has no capacity to eat or taste

Kid obsessively does maintenance on him every single day because he can't bear to lose him again

Kid also needs therapy. This whole android situation is a cry for help tbh

Kid did his best to replicate Killer's voice, but there's something electronic and uncanny about it

All the Android AU posts

Refs:

[nardo-headcanons]

Kirigakure Worldbuilding II - Specialties

Inspired by a recent conversation I had with @pxssy-stuntin-for-itxchi, I got wanted to add more to my Kirigakure worldbuiling post!

Food Preservation Since except for a month during the winter, it never really gets cold in Kirigakure. This has lead to its citizens becoming very creative at enhancing the shelf life of the food that they have. Meat/fish is dry-aged and smoked, fruits are turned into preserve, cheong, or slow-dried. Dairy is a luxury in the water realm, so there are a lot of plant based dairy alternatives already, so it’s no surprise the wave realm has a quite big vegetarian and vegan population. Even though their spice tolerance is not the highest, when talking SALT tolerance, no village can beat Kiri. They are VERY generous with salting their food. In order to get a smokey flavor to any dish, you can obtain smoked salt everywhere in the country. The water realm was the first region the come up with the concept of fermentation of food. Milk is turned into yoghurt and cabbage is turned into kimchi and its more popular variant - sauerkraut. Fun fact: Suigetsu comes from a high ranking caste, so he actually was able to afford dairy yoghurt and jello with actual gelatine, and they're his favorite foods.

Kimchi and Sauerkraut

The general spice tolerance of Kiri citizens is not the highest across the shinobi world, so kimchi is mostly exported to Konoha and Suna. The cabbage grown in the water realm is specifically bred to be extra heat resistant and crunchy. In order to cut down on waste, the excess is turned into sauerkraut juice. To put less of a strain on the public healthcare system, the water realm government has issued its citizens to exercise and eat healthy – especially children. To get more children to drink sauerkraut juice, it is produced in portable, biodegradable little juice boxes which are handed out for free in the Kirigakure academy. Every Kiri genin has tasted it atleast once. Scurvy was once a big problem for most shinobi going on long term stealth missionas, since most just lived off dried meat and crackers, except for Kiri Nin, since they always carry sauerkraut juice (and kumquats) with them.

Fruit

Mangos: With their sweet and fruity taste, they’re popular amongst children, especially when dried, rolled into balls with an added sugar crust. While other countries see them as a special treat they’re a staple in Kiri. Papaya: Another Kiri staple. It is eaten either as a fruit in its orange form or in its green form in more hearty dishes. The seeds are ground and sold as a pepper alternative. Its extracts of the are used by the Kiri beauty industry, which is the biggest one, closely followed by Suna's beauty industry. Peaches: Often grown on the mountaintops of the water realm, they’re loved all over the country. Peach trees are seen as a sign of fertility, renewal and good luck. The pits are turned into persipan, which many foreigners don't like. Durian: Those stinky fruit are banned in Kiri’s public spaces. However, it is still the most popular fruit overall, so only a few get exported yearly, much to the other countries' durian lovers' chagrin. Jackfruit: Not a lot of Kiri citizens like its fleshy texture but it is often used as meat alternative by Kiri’s large plant-based population. Lychee: They’re often sugared and canned, or added to jelly. They're amongst the most popular fruit to make cheong with.

Kumquat: Kiri nin love them because they’re basically easily portable, vitamin c filled snacks. Other honorable mentions include: Rambutan, Mangosteen, Starfruit, Cherimoya, Soursop, Yuzu and Tamarillo.

Jelly If you’ve read my last post on Kiri specialties, you probably know that instead of manufactured candy, Sweet tooths (teeth?) in Kiri chomp down on dried fruit, fermented sugary sticky rice and – jelly. Gelatine, like most non fish animal products, is a luxury so most jellies are made with agar-agar, a plant based “gelatine”. Just take some fruit juice and set it with agar – and there you have jelly. Most foreigners find Kiri’s obsession with jelly pudding off-putting, but that doesn’t stop them. Fun fact: Suigetsu comes from a high ranking caste, so he actually was able to afford dairy yoghurt and jello with actual gelatine, and they're his favorite foods. Non food fun fact: As genetic engineering gets more advanced and Kirigakure already having no issues using bacteria, they're also the biggest exporter of nutrient agar for agar plates which are used for the cultivation of bacteria and funghi. Kigakure is the leading village when it comes to biological and medical advancements, which is why Orochimaru has visited very often (and eventually ran into Kimimaro)

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Back with more ‘aliens beeduo save human Techno from an interstellar fighting arena and accidentally adopt him’

---

The food on the spaceship is almost worse than what he got at the arena. Maybe not in appearance, Techno will take these sterilized packages of indescribable paste over raw meat any day. But in tastes, there's not much of a difference.

Also, they are much harder to open.

They'd probably not be an issue for anybody with proper dexterity, but Techno's hands have been a trembling mess since he got taken in by these aliens. And part of that is due to stress, though the many scars that litter his palms and fingers would betray deeper tissue injury is also at fault. He's making a very unpleasant expression as he tries to rip at the flimsy foil to no avail.

He doesn't even want the grey stuff inside. It's disgusting and flavourless and has the texture of baby food after a baby's already eaten it.

But Techno also would like to stay alive a little longer, which sadly means he'll have to take any nutrients he can get.

As kind as Bee and Boo have been when taking him in, they don't understand Techno's attempts at communicating. Like, at all. So he hasn't had much chance to enlighten them about the wonders of human cuisine yet. And most of the things they cook for themselves, Techno won't risk. At least he knows the goop won't kill him (unless trying and failing to get into the tube causes a heart attack out of sheer frustration).

Man, what he wouldn't give for a can of spagethios right now.

Suddenly two hands close over his shaking ones, Boo's long fingers gently prying the food from his weak grip. Techno has a protest halfway up his throat - perhaps an attempt at keeping his dignity by telling this alien he'd totally be able to take care of his own meal if prolonged trauma hadn't left him with a tremor. But they wouldn't understand him anyway.

Boo quickly rips the foil open before giving it back to Techno, making a small and encouraging buzzing noise deep in their throat. Techno hated that sound at first, likening it to a broken television.

He has since learned it's meant to come across as friendly.

"Uh, thanks," he says lamely as he takes the food back. Boo blinks at him with lids that close vertically over his dark eyes. They tilt their head a bit. They don't understand his gratitude.

And Techno knows it shouldn't matter, but he feels bad.

Suddenly he remembers what the little pig child does sometimes when the older two aliens help them. It might be a weird bet, but as far as Techno can tell the gesture is meant to convey thankfulness.

So slowly - very slowly, not stupid enough to risk making any sudden moves - He tucks in his chin, bends forward and bumps his forehead into Boo's shoulder in some kind of weird headbutting motion.

When he pulls back Boo is staring at him.

Techno thinks he might have done something wrong, still shaking hands pinching at the foil of his food. But then Boo jumps up, the staticky noise increasing in excitement. It's enough to lure the smaller one - Bee - into the room. Boo instantly starts chirping at them.

Techno shakes his head as he brings the food to his mouth, distracting himself from the taste by watching the two that have taken him in flit around like proud parents whose child just said a first word.

Communication efforts will definitely need to be revisited later.

[sugarishapple]

Pumpkin Spice

(Day 14 of Feedist Kinktober 2024)

Originally I wanted to do a pic, a bit of contrast within the prompt... and this was a short story that would accompany it, however, plans changed and I decided to focus a bit more on the story itself (and it turned, well...).

New OC feedist couple! I will share designs and more details about them asap! They have a different dynamic than Marshall and Gail, btw. This story serves as some introduction to them and their dynamics (and change and contrast of dynamics), but you will see 👀.

Word count: 3515

-------------

It was her favorite. Olivia’s favorite coffee drink: Pumpkin Spice Latte cappuccino.

Whenever Olivia went out with Nicolas during the autumn, she always asked for this coffee drink. She liked the way it tasted. The way spices like the cinnamon or the nutmeg or the ginger rolled so well with the pumpkin and the coffee milk.

Of course, she knew that the one offered at the coffee shop wasn’t THE real thing, but it always reminded her of the pumpkin pies her grandmother made when she was younger, especially after her grandfather brought all those huge pumpkins he got back in the farm he worked in, just before October was over. And the best way to make the most of them was pumpkin pies or pumpkin candy (chacualole (1)) with similar ingredients.

“It is nostalgic. I guess that’s why I ended up loving it”. She explained to Nicolas, a few months after they started dating. “It makes me cozy, I guess? It’s too delicious.”

“I think I get it, though.” He responded. “I think it’s the same with me and salted caramel. Once you taste it in other things than chocolate bars, it’s kind of nice”.

“Well, of course. It’s caramel and it’s a bit salty. They got together well.” She thought. “Hmmm. I could make some pumpkin pies with caramel over it, though…” Olivia jostled Nico as they were getting out from the coffee shop. “Maybe a couple… four? Just for you, as always.” She muttered as she quickly grabbed his growing belly and gave it a jiggle.

“As always, fattening me up.” He sighed. “I’m not going to be able to keep walking out and coming to these places at your pace if you keep feeding me up like that.”

She giggled at what they considered flirting. “Buuut, I want to see that, you know? I plan to keep showing up how my man is getting fatter and fatter as long as we keep going out like this. The more they see you and the more you get plumper and unrecognizable… they will eventually realize it is you.”

“Heh. I wouldn’t mind. That sounds quite fun, actually.”

--

When Olivia got the perfect pumpkins she could use, she didn’t waste time in gutting them. The stuffing would be used for dessert, and the seeds would be a nice snack to grab a bite from time to time. She knew the recipe for her grandmother’s pumpkin pies by heart as she tasted it many times (although, admittedly, she had to write it down the last time she was at her parents’ house), and was longing for that flavor that was so nostalgic and cozy for her. And sharing it with Nico, her boyfriend, was the best she could do with it. She assured herself that he would love those pumpkin pies as much as she did, that he would love them so much while feeding him one by one, and perhaps make him long for its flavor and desire for it past the Autumn season… and, eventually, he wolf them down without any issue as the gluttonous pig she knew he was able to be.

The pumpkin pies came out as excellent as Olivia expected them to be. The hypnotizing smell of the pumpkin and its many spices, the texture of the filling and the crust, the taste, even. They were exactly as many as she wanted for her boyfriend, so she invited him at her house to have a fun evening accompanied by a delightful special meal and dessert.

As soon as Nicolas was at Olivia’s house, he sat down on her living room’s couch. That’s how these special meals have been since they started dating. He wouldn’t mind, as he knew she was always looking for the most comfortable places he would be sitting (or laying down) as she would feed him.

Olivia walked in with the four pumpkin pies and put them in the low table in front of him. She looked at him, from the head to the toes, with those dark brown eyes of hers and a smug smile embellishing her face.

“See, babe?” She took a good look at Nicolas’ figure, calculating how fatter she wanted him to be, imagining him taking much more more of his seat in that couch, overflowing it with his corporal mass. “I told you I would prepare four of these small pies just for you.”

He laughed.

“They are anything but small.” He shuffled so he could get even more comfortable on his seat. “I didn’t expect anything less from you, Liv. You never break a promise.”

She sat at his side, sliding his shirt up and started rubbing that soft gelatinous mass of a belly he had. It wasn’t so big, yet, but it was starting to reclaim more space from his lap. He was admittedly a corpulent guy when he and Olivia started dating, but oh, how much these two wanted him to soften up so, so much more. Patting it a few times, she couldn’t help but smile and blush.

Grabbing one of the pies and a knife, she started cutting a nice and thick slice, the caramel oozing on the sides.

“You are looking so good, now, Nico. I wonder how much more good you will look and get when I help feeding you those delicious pies, huh?”

“I will surprise you, Liv”. He tilted his head to kiss her. And as soon as his lips touched hers, she immediately kissed him back and harder.

She would feed him slices at first, but eventually opted to give him thick handfuls with her small thin hands, which he reached with his mouth, with enthusiasm and eagerness, almost like desperate to get that delightful dessert from his feeder girlfriend’s hands, even playfully licking her fingers, grabbing every leftover he could with his lips and tongue. The pumpkin and spices flavor was slowly becoming addictive to him. Moaning while gulping it all down, Olivia knew exactly where she would grab and touch, squeezing his belly fat, also fascinated with the hunger and gluttonous ways of her amazing boyfriend. He perfectly knew, as well, that it was all making her moan, getting so worked up as he devoured everything she gave to him.

“You are doing great, Nico… so, so great.” She bit her lips. “I love it.”

“It’s all thanks to you, you know, Liv?” He smiled, before opening his mouth again, ready to be stuffed with more of the pie, gulping it down before talking to her, again: “You have been a great encourager…” He felt a belch coming out from his chest, letting it out. “Urp… You have been doing an excellent job in making me this way...”

“Heh. I am certainly proud of it.” She cheekily smiled, fixing her long hair lock right behind her ear, out of nervousness, attempting to hide how wet he was making her feel down her thighs. “I want to take you to a no-return point, so, so bad...”

He laughed. “With the way you are doing this, I may not be so far away from that point”.

Olivia grabbed the last of the pies’ plates, with no much left than a small handful and gave it to him.

“Mind in making me the honors, my glutton hog?”

“Of course. All for you.” Nico took the plate and grabbed the handful of pie with his bare hands and shoved it into his mouth, not wasting any time onto it. As he ate it, he couldn’t not smile. He was proud of being Olivia’s glutton-feedee boyfriend.

“See?… I knew you will finish them up.” She snuggled her face into his chest, before tilting her head and giving him a kiss. “Now, I’m the one wanting her dessert…” She wrapped one of her legs onto his waist, ready to make out with him.

-----

It was her favorite. Olivia’s favorite coffee drink flavor: Pumpkin Spice Latte cappuccino.

Olivia always orders it whenever it is autumn, and during the past two years, there hasn’t been an exception where she doesn’t order one of these coffee drinks. She and Nicolas knew it wasn’t THE real thing, of course, but nevertheless, it still tasted as wonderful as always.

This year, however, Nico was enchanted by the lovely idea of buying her a full box of Pumpkin Spice flavor mix for dairy products. Especially since he knew how exactly he wanted to prepare and mix it with, even after the autumn season ended, just for her. However, Olivia couldn’t expect his choice: heavy cream milkshakes that he was going to feed her.

Nicolas’ intentions were very clear in how he wanted to do this. For the past few months he was looking something perfect to help her in gaining weight and making her addicted to it, while also pampering her in the process. And as soon as the autumn started, he remembered the pumpkin spice flavor she loved the most, so “why not making her some milkshakes with this and heavy cream?”

“Maybe, I can even add some caramel syrup into them to add not just a sweeter flavor but more calories…”

Nico wanted to focus on his beloved Olivia now, partly because he wanted to reciprocate all of her amazing work in fattening him up, and also because he developed a growing desire to see her getting fat as much as he got.

Although he was a gluttonous feedee at heart, Nico also had some feeder tendencies, and he would be lying if he hadn’t imagine in being Olivia’s feeder at some point during the past whole year, especially as he realized a couple of things about her, like noticing that she wasn’t very subtle in sneaking a few bites from all that delicious food she made for him, and finding out that the fading stretchmarks she had in some areas of her body were there because she used to be overweight in the past. He simply couldn’t stop thinking about all of it as a whole.

“Wouldn’t you be opposed to the idea of me feeding you?” Nico remembered telling her as he finally decided to express his desire to fatten her up.

“What?” His question took Olivia by surprise. “You want to feed... me?”

“Well, you have been very sneaky, Liv.” He responded. “But, you cannot trick me. Recently I have seen you grabbing bites here and there when you are not just going to feed me, but when you are doing it, as well.”

“We… well! Of course, I have to… I can do that, you know?” She responded nervously.

“Exactly, I know you can do that. But…” One of his hands reached her face. “I can feed you. I want to feed you, and I want to make you fat, too…”

As he started to caress her face, her ears got very red.

“What are you saying??” She kept replying in a nervous manner. “Making me fat???”

He giggled, and with a smug face, he told her: “Your reactions say it all, Liv. I bet you have been thinking about it. You told me that you were overweight before, but I suppose it’s possible that spending all this time with me could have turned on a switch inside you.” He grabbed one of her hands and he put it against his chest and his upper belly, jiggling it. “I mean, you made me aaaalll this fat… wouldn’t you want some of it as well?”

Liv closed her eyes, her face all red, as she grabbed Nico’s thick upper fat roll, before making her hand go to his left juicy moob. She felt like her heart would come out of her chest.

“This is all your work.” He whispered to her ear. “And I want to repay you as nicely, too, while also making you my gluttonous piggy.” He teased her.

She bit her lip just with those three last words, losing the little concentration and balance she had left on her, slipping on the couch, as her boyfriend ended up above her. Nicolas was, in a word, huge. He was already corpulent when they met, but his figure got wider and heavier with time. His arms softened up, his elbows almost buried in fat. His whole torso was drooping on her, his abundant stomach with thick rolls all over his Liv’s stomach, and his moobs sagging close to his girlfriend’s face. From Olivia’s angle, she could trace how rounded and chubby looked his face, with a prominent second chin. His breath was becoming quick and heavier.

“See...? All because of you… I’m 360 lbs now… Wouldn’t you want me to feed you… and fatten you up at my current weight, babe? To a point of no return?”

Olivia moaned when she heard his proposal, her legs trembling under Nico’s weight. He didn’t take long to observe this, and started giggling.

“Are you fascinated by this? Feeding you and making you soooo fat…?”

She looked him into his eyes, until she slightly averted them into another direction.

“...Yes.” She sheepishly responded. “...Could you?”

--

This all brings Nicolas to the present time. It’s been some months since that confession/talk he had with Liv, and he had since applied his “magic” on her all that past summer. And, although he manifested his want to feed her and making her fat, all he wanted was to spoil her, to pamper her.

That morning, Nico prepared for her, as much as he could, a vast breakfast composed of the same dishes she usually made for him when she started staying over at his house. It was a nice gesture, but he his intentions were obvious, as well.

“Wow, Nico... you shouldn’t have. This is a lot.” She said as she contemplated the whole table full of rich and hearty food.

“Nonsense, Liv.” He said. “I know you can handle it all fine. We didn’t spend the whole summer in training your appetite, and that peeking belly of yours is enough to prove it.”

He pointed to her ‘small’ tum peeking though her sleeping shirt, which she sheepishly rubbed it, before attempting to hide it with her shirt, slightly embarrassed.

Olivia sighed as she sat down at his table. “Oh, what the hell. I will try. It smells good and looks REALLY good.”

She took her plate and started to fill it with a couple of pancakes oozing with butter and syrup, scrambled eggs, and she also decided to grab a couple of bacon strips. She took a bite of the eggs, and a bit of the pancakes and couldn’t avoid moaning out of how delightful it was all. She then grabbed a few more forkfuls from her plate and stuffed them into her mouth, before gulping it all down.

“Mhmmm. You even tried to do my seasoning.” She noticed, tasting the pancake with syrup on her lips. “This has cinnamon on it”.

He nodded and smiled. “Of course, how couldn’t I. I was inspired by you, after all.”

She giggled as she went to fill her place with more pancakes, and picked up some fried ham and jam. She also picked up some fried potatoes with chili and chorizo, and more scrambled eggs. Nico was looking at Liv, all fascinated at her growing appetite, because he knew his girl was capable of eating as much like that, and he also knew it could grow more if she got bigger.

She noticed Nicolas was looking at her, as much as she usually did when he ate a lot, which was exciting to say the least. And the more he admired her, admittedly, it made her want to eat and stuff herself much more. Her legs trembled a little, and passing one of her hands over her tum, giving it a rub, she became eager and continued her eating.

“Owww… I don’t think I can fit anything more here…” She reclined on her chair, caressing her tum. Almost all of the breakfast was gone (although Nicolas grabbed some bites as he saw her eating speed was decreasing). “Maybe next time… but this is all I can handle now.”

“Oh, come on, Liv.” He stood up. “A few more bites? For me? You always push me up a little more…”

“Yeah? But you are you. Trust me, I cannot do so much more right now.” She started to rub her tum once again. “I’m not a big glutton like you.”

“Yet.” He corrected. “And I will make sure of it. Besides, I have a little treat for you and just you. And I will give it to you if you eat juuuust a little more. All calories count~”

“Hmmm…” Liv groaned, but was curious. “What is it?”

“Eat a little more, and I will let you have it.” He teased her as he sit down at her side, and grabbed a fork to pick some leftover pancakes, that he wrapped with ham. “Say ‘ah’.”

She opened her mouth and Nico shoved the piece of pancake into her mouth. She chew it and gulped it.

“A little more.” He cut more of the pancakes and offered it to her, which she again opened her mouth to eat it, chew it and gulp it down. “Good girl. Come on, you are almost there.” And, once again, he offered the final leftover from those pancakes he grabbed, which she also ate. “There. I think you deserve your prize now.”

He stood up once again and walked up to his refrigerator. His belly was jiggling up and down as he went to open it, and grab Olivia’s well-deserved treat: a glass of milkshake made with that pumpkin spice flavor mix he bought earlier. He also grabbed the caramel syrup and put some into it.

“And here it is.” He smiled as he showed it to her. “It’s a milkshake that I am very sure you will grow to love.”

“A milkshake, huh?” She reached her arm to attempt to grab it, but Nicolas refused.

“Nope, I will feed it to you, instead.”

“For real?” She kept rubbing her full belly.

“Sure as hell. It’s your prize, babe… but, let me have some fun out of it as well.”

Olivia remembered all those times she flirted and teasingly did the same with Nico, so, she couldn’t back off. Regardless, she wanted him to enjoy the moment, too.

“Okay, big guy. Let’s find out what this milkshake taste.”

“Of course.” He smiled as he made sure Liv was at least somewhat comfortable. “Recline your head a little more, okay?”

She followed his instructions and did so, as he was grabbing the glass and bringing it closer to her lips.

“Drink up~”

As Olivia separated her lips, Nicolas tilted the glass to let flow the creamy liquid into her mouth. Instantly, Olivia tasted the pumpkin spice flavor, but she was forced to drink it up as quickly as more of the milky liquid was flowing into her. And as she started to chug, she noticed how thick it felt, and how incredibly sweet it was, too.

“Caramel syrup… and it has heavy cream, too?” Olivia identified the rest of the flavors as she chugged the milkshake. She started moaning as she felt how sweet it was. It was so rich… so delicious. So heavenly like. So she kept drinking, and drinking… and drinking, until it started to hurt… until there was nothing left in the glass.

“Wow, look at you… You surely enjoyed all of it.” He gave her a belly rub, and patting it made her let out a burp.

Groaning, Olivia tried to shuffle into her seat with some pain. “Pumpkin spice, huh? Urp...”

He nodded, as he kept rubbing her tum.

“Gosh…” Liv responded, groaning. “And heavy cream, too?! Fuck, you really want me to get very fat like this… There’s no way I’m not going to get addicted to these now!...”

“Figured it out?” He responded, giggling, as he also caressed her hair. “I knew you would love it. I can make you so much more, you know that, right?”

“I mean…” She fidgeted. “I dunno… I wouldn’t mind, but… fuck… how much did you buy of that pumpkin spice flavor stuff?”

“Enough to last until winter… or I would hope so, of course.” He replied with some tease. “We could finish them sooner if you want that…”

“So, so fat…” Olivia mumbled to herself, before reclaiming: “You are so mean, Nico!”

“Maybe? But, look at the good side of it, it’s sweater season, too!” He kept teasing her, even sticking his tongue out, before kissing her forehead.

“Ugh… don’t do this to me...!” She trembled with pain and laugh.

“Take it easy, Liv.” He grabbed her hand, helping her to stand up. “Relax, okay? At least for now. Let’s go to the couch so you can rest and digest it all.”

He reached down as she also titled her head to give each other a kiss on the lips.

“Can I ask you to be gentle while I rest?” Olivia asked.

“Of course. All for you.”

****

(1) I was looking for an English word for this specific kind of dessert, because it didn't hit me well with just "pumpkin candy", all I know it as is "dulce de calabaza", but apparently the ES Wiki says it is actually a dessert/sweet coming from Guerrero, Mexico. YET, I know for a fact that we also make it here in the north of the country during autumn (ie October-November). Do they do it in English-speaking countries too? I feel they DO, but "pumpkin pie's filling" also doesn't feel appropiate to name it either, lol.

[pencilpat]

Dukeceitbrainrot here on anon. Do you have any ripe headcanons for Janus/Remus? 💛💚

Who am I fooling, we have so many that I can't even write them all out in one place without overwhelming myself! Here's some juicy ones though, just for you. @dukeceitbrainrot

Janus and Remus both have really bad abandonment issues, both from things Thomas has been through as well as losing Virgil from such a previously tight knit group. They cling to each other very, very hard. They fell in love out of necessity, out of proximity, out of 'you are the only one left for me,' but they still love, love, love.

They both watch a lot of horror films, sure, but their tastes are completely different. While Janus would bring things like Run. or Us to movie night, Remus will bring things like Slaughtered Vomit Dolls or Cannibal Holocaust and spend the whole film infodumping about the horrific backstories and crimes involved. Janus sits there utterly horrified the whole time, but he lets Remus have his fun nonetheless.

Remus eats a lot of weird stuff that's very bad for his health (I headcanon that he has the disorder pica among his menagerie) and Janus has to help him quell those compulsions in any way he can. That resulted in Janus learning to bake and cook creations that look or feel in texture exactly like the things Remus would want to eat. Such as sugar glass for that nasty glass swallowing habit, or fondant to replace fancy soaps. Janus once created candy that looks and feels like razor blades, just for him.

They are SO 'horrible beast and enabling owner' coded okay, "I don't know, I just let him play," and all else are you kidding me?? Janus enables the chaos for his own amusement and Remus's antics are an endless source of entertainment for him. Janus can be pretty easily grossed out, but it's creates flabbergasted affection towards Remus more than anything else.

A bit nsfw, skip if you need to. But their sex isn't actually as weird as you'd expect from Remus. He's a lot softer and sweeter to people he genuinely loves. He gets worried when he loves someone, will he scare them off, will he make them hate him like most others have, will they be just like the others? Their opinion actually matters to him, which is bizarre and terrifying for him to deal with. Janus is very good at reassuring him and keeping him close and safe when emotions do interfere with their encounters. Remus needs a lot of aftercare most of the time, he's very prone to those rushes of negative emotions following sex.

Remus gets injured a lot, either from fights with Roman or his own tendencies to step on/into his own weapons. Janus knows very basic field first aid because of this, and has to patch him up while chastising him pretty much 6 out of 7 days of the week.

Janus has really bad days sometimes, where his responsibilities and his role as Denial crash onto him like a train. He's hiding so much, holding so much back and away from the others. It's a taxing task. Remus shows a surprisingly strong soft side on those nights, caring for and comforting Janus through every trauma reaction he may have, be it screaming, crying, scratching at himself, etc etc. It can be really rough for both of them, but Janus is always incredibly grateful to Remus for staying with him through it, despite.

Remus does not care whether Janus likes affection or not, he WILL be being kissed and laid on and grabbed and tackled and shoved into Remus's chest 24 hours 7 days a week and he is not allowed to complain.

Shockingly domestic, sweet couple. always baking or gardening together or sitting on the sofa together doing nothing at all. The only difference is that There Is An Eyeball On The Coffee Table or Remus Filled That Pot With Human Waste So I Cannot Use It or other bizarre inclusions of disgusting things among their neat little domestic life.

Remus is a coffee drinker, Janus is a tea drinker. There are many arguments over this. 200 dead, 5000 injured.

Janus likes to try and plan civil, nice dates in The Mindpalace for them, but Remus always fucks it up in some horrific way, intentionally. What is love worth if it cannot flourish in chaos, huh Janus? Huh??

That's all for now, I love these two idiots so much

[joannerowling]

I’m a big fan but I will admit that, while I think it’s the most beautifully written of the 7, I thought as a teenager that the ethical core of Deathly Hallows was a bit skewed and haven’t changed my mind having re-read it as an adult. Harry using the torture curse and the narrative approving of his ‘gallantry’ is a real low point. I also have issues with how she handled Snape from a Christian perspective, given that he was the one character explicitly working to atone for his sins. But I mainly put those gripes down to the final book needing to revert to a fable of good vs evil to tie the whole thing up, which necessitated losing some of the nuance of HP’s politics that had been explored mid-series.

The early books were ‘mean spirited’ because they were children’s books set at a boarding school that deliberately evoked the Roald Dahl tradition of writing terrible adults that need to be viciously cut down to size lol. The humour is so distinctly British.

Agree to disagree, i think it's pretty funny that Harry snaps over something like McGonagall getting spat on. It's in the same vein as Hermione cursing Marietta to have "SNEAK" written on her forehead for me. Is it good? No (and i don't think the narrative *says it's good*), but is it satisfying and did Carrow have it coming? Hell yeah! Remember that the Carrows are explicitely said to be fond of Crucifying students and even forced some to use the curse on first years (11 years old kids) apparently for shit and giggles. I think giving Amycus a taste of his own medicine was fine.

You would have to elaborate on the Snape bit for me to comment.

I get what you mean with the third part, not sure that i would call it "the Roald Dahl tradition" - even though he excels at this, but is it not more like a feature of child lit in general? How many fairy tales start with a poor girl being treated like shit by her comically evil step-mother meanwhile her father is completely useless? And child lit, or rather books where children are the heroes in a world of Terrible Adults, is a particularly favoured genre of British writers since at least Dickens.

JKR's work for children does fall into this tradition (i would say the Ickabog even more so than HP), but i think her specificity comes in a) her willingness to target character types that are rarely deemed of interest for kids, such as politicians (Fudge, Scrimegour), state workers (Umbridge, Bagman), journalists (Rita), business owners (Vernon), etc., people who usually are more the targets of satirical newspapers, and b) the fact that her satire is intricate and barely caricatural, compared to say Dahl's. Fudge for instance is NOT a caricature in his behaviour and even appearance, he's a *realistic* British politician… in wizard clothes. Compare that to Dahl's Trunchbull. Or you know, compare two official illustrations of one of Dahl's and one of Rowling's characters:

(Jim Kay on the right, Quentin Blake on the left)

Both have exaggerated features but Dahl's is cartoonish and focused on proportions and attitude, whereas JKR's is allll about the details (the knot, the cats, the texture and colour of those clothes). That is not to say one is better than the other but only to point out the difference.

[russenoire]

For the fruit emoji ask game, please! 🍈 and or 🍇

🍈 who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? free pass to rant about blorbo opinions.

kageyama shigeo. i... identify with him a normal amount. (on the surface, i actually have more in common with his brother! the former 'gifted' kid struggle is real)

he has genetic anemia (thalassemia minor). shigeo keeps up his strength with weightlifting at home and night jogs around his neighborhood on a regular basis, in addition to a balanced diet. he can't work out fasted; he'll pass out. he's also frequently cold, though all the muscle he's built up over time helps some.

i don't think he'd be a stress eater. his appetite would be the first thing to go under duress... except for milk, hot or cold. if he's really stressed out? a cigarette, more for the smell than the taste (he thinks they taste awful; this is why they're a last resort).

he's a salaryman who works for his city government in the urban planning department. his specialty? traffic accident prevention.

i think shigeo is actually a pretty sharp guy when he applies himself, or when an issue is particularly meaningful for him, hence his life's work. he also has a sizable amount of emotional intelligence. since The Incident™ he's gained a reputation for working harmoniously with 'difficult' people. though his current kōhai (subordinate) is testing his limits a bit...

he's got a bit of a prankster streak, though not on the level of someone like his confidant hanazawa teruki. his is more understated: a deadpan, a snarky quip, a seized opportunity to rattle someone's nerves on the spot. as you can imagine, that and the above bullet point are not infrequently at odds.

he still wrestles with big emotions. sometimes they overwhelm him. over the years, he's come up with a few ways to deal: cloudsitting; jogging; cooking or eating a good meal; silent moments with his own thoughts, often sitting upside-down in midair, or upside-down sprawled over the back of his sofa; cuddling with teruki, with or without conversation; deep chats with loved ones in general; getting a good massage from his old shishou on occasion; earplugs or a blindfold or soft, wispy textures on his skin.

i see him as a fastidious minimalist, almost to the point of asceticism. he owns only what he needs and uses and no more. i think over time he'd either make adjustments to help others feel more comfortable in his home... or refuse to change anything at all. perhaps both at different times in his life.

while he and teruki do share a fairly deep and cuddly intimacy, at this point in his life he's single and content with that.

most of these show up in my post-canon mp100 fics on ao3. i have more in the works, i promise.

[birdblorbo]

Loser’s Club as Very Specific Sensory Issues because I have Sensory Issue’s

Also known as me heavily projecting onto my comfort characters. Also brief Stenbrough cause I love them.

Long Post

Bill: Loud noises. For obvious reasons Bill hates storms so the rain and especially thunder tip him off, but anything resembling thunder can also freak him out. For example loud music with a lot of drumming (I was in marching band for years and drumline alone would probably give him a panic attack. I hate drumline). He doesn’t like concerts or movies in theaters because of how strong the sounds are without him being able to control it. Headphones are ok because he can lower it when he chooses, though he prefers to just mute out any sound with ear plugs rather than mute out outside sounds with music unless the drumming in the song is very light and slow. If he can’t do either he likes to lay his head on Stan’s chest or just another loser if Stan’s not around so he can hear their heartbeat. The steadiness helps calm him down while reassuring him they are alive and well. 

Stan: Being touched. There are very few exceptions where Stan is comfortable with touch and he is more comfortable with certain losers touching him over others. He is most comfortable with Bill least comfortable with Richie. (Full scale: Bill, Mike, Ben, Bev, Eddie, Richie) Richie calls it favoritism but its mostly on a scale of movement. Bill is very stable with Stan, making sure to limit his movements. Also he has been helping Stan become more comfortable with casual affection as Bill is very affectionate. Going along with the previous when Bill lays on him it is a comfort for both as Bill can hold onto him while Stan is on the outside able to push him off if needed rather than feeling surrounded. Ben and Mike are just very stable on their own. Beverly is in the middle, she can be still if needed but prefers not to. While Eddie and Richie on the other hand can’t sit still to save their lives and the sudden and relentless movements freak Stan out. When hugging someone his arms have to be the one on the outside, if they are on the inside he feels trapped.

Chewing Noises. He can’t stand any sort of chewing noises and has to stop eating if he can hear himself or someone else chewing. He immediately loses his appetite at the sound no matter if he is in the middle of eating or is about to eat. Saliva in general also grosses him out. For example if a dog drools on him or is excessively drooling in general he loses his appetite as well.

Eddie: Food textures. Eddie is not a picky eater taste wise but the texture could completely make or break it. He hates jello. He refuses to even touch it with his finger. Also he hates excessive oil. If he can feel the oil on his fingers after touching it, then it’s too much. (You know those frosting that leave a film on your tongue? Yeah I hate those and so does he). If he doesn’t like the texture of a food he will completely refuse to eat it.

Richie: Too tight or too loose shoes. He is constantly tying and untying his shoes as they are never perfect. Also it’s a nervous habit. He mostly despises too tight of shoes but fears if they aren’t tight they will fall off when he runs so he is always trying to find the balance between the two. This also applies to button ups. He always leaves them unbuttoned because he fiddles with the top button if it’s fully done up. On the occasion he has to dress nice he hates the top button. When it’s undone it feel too loose and rubs at his skin, but if it’s buttoned it feels like it’s choking him.

Beverly: Fabrics. She hates anything knitted, (Seriously knitted clothing and blankets feel horrible and I will die on this hill. I also can’t stand the feeling of jeans so I’m choosing to ignore her overalls). She exclusively wears faux denim as real denim makes her itch. She both hates and loves dresses. She hates them because of the objectification when she wears them but loves them because there is less fabric touching her and if it does it is very brief so as long as the top is comfortable she doesn’t have to worry about the bottom.

Ben: Tight clothing. He can’t stand the feeling of restriction tight clothes cause, especially on his legs. He hates the way pants tighten on his thighs when he bends his knees thus wears either very loose thin pants or shorts. (There’s this pair of pants I own that never tighten on my thighs no matter how I sit and I love them) He also cannot stand long socks, they squeeze his calfs too much. 

Mike: Smoke. Any bit of smoke makes him cough and along with that sometimes strong smells do too, like a really strong candle. He hates cities because of the amount of cigarette smoke and if he sees someone smoking he holds his breathe until they pass or he passes them. He cannot sit close to the fire and especially cannot sit in the direction the smoke is blowing.

Can you tell I project myself onto Stan highly?