#Healthy noodles for kids

[itostea]

the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 

[gravegroves]

Okay, little stream-of-consciousness-moment:

Billy, who's mind is like a steel trap, who isn't a scared little child, but a healthy, angry young adult. And the mindflayer doesn't even know what hit it. One second it's infiltrating grey matter, overtaking neural pathways and becoming one with this new vessel and the next second it's burning alive, it's crumbling and shrinking and screeching in agony as the human body does what is does best to foreign invaders: try to kill it.

I've always loved the posts on tumblr that explore how deeply weird humans would be to aliens. Our physiology, our mentality, when spoken of as animal traits they are all deeply disturbing. We're persistence predators. We're built to last. We can survive unimaginable horrors (and also die from the stupidest, most everyday things). Our main predator, is ourselves. A bite from a child can kill another human just from the bacteria alone if left untreated. Our bodies are designed to kill entities both within and without.

Humans are fucking terrifying.

So the mindflayer is so unprepared for an adult human who's been through too much shit already. Not just a tired little slip of a kid, but a healthy, entering-his-prime human and is eradicated with extreme prejudice by nothing more than a good immune system going into overdrive.

But it's too deeply imbeded, so the body again does what it can to protect itself, it encases it. Within the body, but separate. Calcified. Caged.

So here's Billy, who has a rather spotty memory of a car crash and feels like he has a head cold for a couple of days before he gets on with his life. Only weird shit keeps happening to him, now. Like that time he encounters a pack of dogs while out drinking by the quarry, except they look really fucked-up the closer they get, not like any dog Billy's ever seen before, and just as he's prepared for an attack from these things, they just walk up to him and sniff around a bit with their weird flower heads blooming and closing, but otherwise leaving him unharmed. And Billy's just this side of drunk where terrible ideas seem kinda brilliant and he tells the things to sit. And they do. Amazed, he tosses his beer bottle and tells them go fetch, and again, one does.

And then when it's time to go home Billy offhandedly tells them to get lost and they run off back into the woods, and when he wakes up in the morning it's easy to rationalise it away. Probably the beer had been rolling around in the car for too long and it went bad and fucked him up. Should just have thrown the whole sixpack out. Those were just regular dogs, for sure. Except the next day, when he's out behind the pool building trying to find a good spot to smoke, he steps onto soft soil or something and falls down into a weird ass tunnel and a bunch of those same monster dogs just appear out of nowhere and pile themselves on top of each other for him to be able to climb out. And a couple of days later when Neil smacks Billy around for being out late again, one of those dogs honest to God comes crashing through the living room window to shred Neil's leg up and leaves just as quickly at the first sign of panic from Billy.

And yeah okay, by this stage Billy's figuring out things are kinda fucky around Hawkins, and so it's just Billy having his own little side adventure in the background while the rest of the gang are running around Hawkins trying desperately to find the Mindflayer, not knowing that Billy unknowingly trapped it within himself and is just living his life, teaching these weirdly obedient alien dogs to do tricks because they keep helping him or seeking him out.

Anyway, upside down is doomed because their leader is literally trapped inside Billy and Billy is just teaching these dog-things to steal cigarettes from the gas station and volunteering for the closing shift at the pool because he can just get the dogs to bring the pool noodles back into the shed.

[daisynik7]

Author's Note: this is a very self-indulgent little nanami drabble because I am currently sick and he is definitely the doting type of husband to do something like this. For reference, I'm Filipino, but I'm sure this and similar types of home-remedies/old wives tales apply to all cultures. And the rice porridge he makes at the end is called Arroz Caldo, in case you were wondering! Divider by @/cafekitsune.

Your hubby Nanami takes care of you while you're sick the best way he knows how. But when his efforts are futile, that's when he calls for backup.

"Kento? Is everything okay?"

You hear the familiar voice of your mother on speaker phone out in the living room as you're snuggled up in bed, barking out phlegmy coughs into the sleeve of your sweatshirt. The door is ajar, and your husband, after having fed you his world-famous chicken noodle soup, excuses himself, distraught by the fact that your sense of taste and smell is temporarily nonexistent.

"Hi Mom. I'm not sure. She can't smell or taste anything. I don't know what else to do."

Despite the shitty state you're in, you can't help but smile to yourself. You always love how he calls your mom Mom, how comfortable it is coming out of his mouth. He insisted a while ago that he would do it, and even though it's been years, you still get a kick out of it.

"Okay dear. Here's what you need to do."

Half an hour later, Nanami returns from a quick grocery store run, waking you from your nap, waving a big jar of Vick's VapoRub in his hands.

"Kento?" You call out, eyes bleary, still half-asleep.

"Go back to sleep, honey. I'm just going to try something." He uncovers your feet, unscrews the jar, and lathers a healthy dose of the balm straight onto your feet, spreading it across your skin.

You sit up, laughing, causing you to cough. "What are you doing?"

He doesn't answer right away, doing the same with the other foot. Then, he gets up, stepping towards to the drawer to retrieve a pair of your fuzzy socks, putting them on you. "Your mom said this works. Swears by it."

Your smile grows wider. "She used to do this for me all the time as a kid."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asks, worry in his voice. "We could have tried this sooner."

You reach for his hand, stroking him gently with your thumb. "Honey, I don't think there's any scientific proof that putting this stuff on your feet actually helps."

He squeezes you back. "Well, it doesn't hurt to try right?"

That night, you learn that the home remedy your mother gave to your husband isn't the only advice she offers. You smell a comforting aroma wafting from the kitchen, and soon enough, Nanami serves you a hot bowl of your Mom's famous chicken rice porridge, almost exactly the way she makes it.

And maybe it's just coincidence, but the next day, you actually do feel better.

[itsabouttimex2]

you’ve dragged me into the LEGO monkey kid fandom

so I was wondering macaque with a healer kid? If that’s not too much

I’m very sorry but I love your writing

Little Healer Headcanons

Macaque and Ne Zha

(I always love hearing that I got someone into Monkie Kid- it’s one of the things that makes me happiest to read!)

You spend a lot of your time patching this guy up- by design. Since Macaque has an adorable little friend to mend his injuries, why should he temper his powers? The sable simian never bothers to hold back in the slightest.

Macaque goes out of his way to go overboard, knowing that his dear white mage will be there for him with a stave and a worried frown.

Unfortunately for him, it seems to be that you have a longer line of clients and customers than ever before- not that it’s really a surprise.

Someone was on the other side of all those fights he was winning, after all~

And he’s willing to leave a few more bruises if the crowd can’t part for him fast enough- after all, Macaque will always be first in line to receive your services.

And sure, maybe he’ll ignore your squawking and protesting when he forces you to shut down the itty-bitty clinic (probably just an unlicensed street stall) early to get in a good snuggle, “repaying the favor” by tossing you over his shoulder and heading home so he can coddle you like his own child.

He’ll force you to take breaks by jamming stolen handheld consoles into your hands, setting you up with slow turn-based games and decoration simulators to slowly lull you into a cozy sleep- all while resting your head in his lap, of course- he’s gotta get that fatherly skinship in.

Plies you with healthy snacks and fruit-infused water made to keep one’s energy and health up, ensuring that you’ll always be at the top of your game- but only for him, of course!

If you ever do come around to calling him “dad”, he’s going to be over the moon- in his own subtle way.

He’ll sneak into your room late at night, Rumble and Savage casing the perimeter, and… press a soft kiss to your forehead, snap a little tracker-embedded bracelet around your wrist…

And then drag you off the bed and take you home for good.

Oh, he loves you so, so much.

Assuming that you, as a healer, fall into the “white-hearted healing cutie” stereotype, then you are Ne Zha’s de-facto favorite person.

He finally has someone who stays out of trouble and does as told? He finally has someone who listens to his commands and acts when told to act? Someone loyal and sweet and obedient?

Perfect.

“As always,” he says frequently, one hand on your head, “I am proud of your efforts to serve our realm.”

“Thank you,” is your return, polite and curt. It earns you another head pat, though Ne Zha is always careful not to muss your hair.

“Very good. I’ll send in the next soldier.”

This is the life he’s built for you, safe and slow and useful.

And with him by your side the days drift and bleed, every moment of your time micromanaged and utilized.

It’s rare to get a break unless you work yourself to the point of sickness, at which point he’ll tuck you in with a mug of hot tea and a small basket of fruit on the bedside and “Maybe a bowl of those noodles from that mortal store you like, if you behave yourself, Y/N.”

He tries to be sweet and gentle, but Ne Zha still has a temper and is still very stressed out by the stunts of the Monkie Kids- it’s not impossible that he’ll snap and take his anger out on you.

And though this is pretty much the literal worst thing he’d ever do to you (aside from MAYBE a very mild flogging given the Celestial Realm practices that in the novel? It doesn’t fit with his character at all to any degree so I’m split. He seems more like a non-physical lecturer) it still hurts like hell to work so hard and be so good and still get punished for something that wasn’t even your fault.

And Ne Zha feels like trash afterwards but is too proud too apologize, and regardless is too worried that he’d lose his control over you if he treated you like an equal and outright said “sorry”, so he just takes a trip to the mortal realm and buys you something hot and fried.

He’ll wrap the grease-stained paper in a cloth sack to prevent any confused stares that might arise in the Celestial Realm, and book the horrid food down to your room.

Though the quality leaves quite a bit to be desired, and the healthy value makes him want to scream and slap the burger from your hands…

You’ve stopped sniffling.

And that’s enough for him

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man- Part Five//W.W.

Information: lots of fluff Warning: adult (Willy) breastfeeding sorry not sorry, also mention of sex and sperm

You and Willy were definitely surprised when you gave birth to twins: a boy and a girl. It was only fitting to give them sweet flavor names. Your baby boy was named Mocha, and your little girl was named Maple.

Maple and Mocha Wonka. You were so in love and so proud to be their mom. They were both perfectly healthy, and dark headed like their daddy. You felt so blessed.

After the birthing session was over, you could tell that the whole “producing twins the first time he had sex” thing was really stroking Willy’s ego. “I can’t believe this, darling.” he said, holding one of the babies in his arms, he got close to you, whispering so the midwife wouldn’t hear, “Twins! Honey, I have magic sperm.”

You just laughed at him and shook your head.

Willy sat on the bed with you. Each of you held one of your babies, and you took some time, just admiring the little ones. Willy was in awe of how tiny and beautiful they were.

“They are so perfect, y/n.” he said softly, in total adoration.

“I know. We are so lucky.” you responded, teary eyed. You kissed Willy on the cheek. He, in turn, rested his head on yours.

……

It was not easy adjusting to life with not one, but two newborns. Your parents were supportive of your relationship with Willy, and they were over the moon when it came to being grandparents. They came over from time to time to help and watch the babies while you and Willy took breaks to nap, clean, and cook.

Even Willy’s friends volunteered to help. They had been with Willy from the laundry house to the chocolate shoppe, and now to help care for the Wonka babies. Willy's young friend, Noodle, started developing a special bond with the twins, and it made you both so happy. You were so grateful for all of them, you couldn’t believe the support system surrounding your family.

Besides your wonderful family and friends, Willy was the best with the babies, even better with them than you, you thought. Willy would disagree, but it was true that he had a magical way with them. He could sing them to sleep, even when they were crying. Even with them being so young, they could recognize Daddy's voice, and their little eyes would search the room for him.

Willy was a doting partner; he never left your side. You tried to make up a 'shift' system, where you'd take turns taking care of the babies while the other one slept, but Willy didn't abide by it much. "If you're up caring for our kids, and miserably tired, then I'm right there with you." Your man was truly one of kind.

In the beginning, you had trouble producing enough breast milk for the babies, so Willy would infuse some of his creations to give the babies enhanced nutrients, with giraffe milk as the base, of course. You sent your thanks to Abigail at the zoo. She was given as many Wonka mints as she could eat.

Eventually, the babies started to sleep for longer periods of time, and you started to feel sane again. You had more energy, and you had gotten the hang of breast feeding. It was routine for you and Maple and Mocha now, and they knew to latch on instantly.

Willy was putting away clean baby clothes in the nursery and then sat and waited for you to finish feeding the twins so you both could go to bed. "Willy, you can go on ahead, they should be done soon, and they will go right to sleep." you insisted.

"No, it's alright darling, I don't like getting in bed without you." he said. He was so sweet and honest without expecting anything in return. He didn't say it to get you to fawn over him. And that's why you loved him.

"Honey, I love you, but really, you can go to bed, I'll be there soon."

"Okay," he said with a reluctant sigh, he stood up, watching you feed the babies for a moment.

Your night shirt was unbuttoned, and your breasts were free. Your babies were eating and starting to get full bellies.

"Could I.." Willy began to ask something, and you knew exactly what it was. He looked away, so shyly, saying, "Never mind."

"No, it's alright, what were you going to say, Willy?" you needed to hear him ask it.

"Can I try some of your milk? After the twins are fed, of course, and if you aren't sore." his pretty green eyes were almost desperate as he looked at you so tenderly.

You and Willy hadn't been intimate in nearly three months. Sex wasn't in the question when you were heavily pregnant, unknowingly with twins. You could sense that he missed it, not just the sex, or even getting off, but just being close together and bonding with you. Your relationship had taken a back seat with your new additions.

"Sure you can. But don't go thinking that you can use it to put in your chocolate." you said firmly, giving him a look.

"Oh, no, darling. Of course not!" he assured you, frantically.

You giggled, "Go on to bed, Willy Wonka, and I'll be there in a moment."

"Yes, ma'am." he said cheerily, turning on his heels and heading out of the babies' room.

........

You got the babies to sleep in their cribs and joined Willy in your bedroom. You hadn't bothered to button up your shirt, you just covered yourself with the shirt, as you would have felt strange walking around the house with your tits out. Though you knew Willy wouldn't mind.

"Hi darling." you said, greeting your lover.

Willy grinned as you came over to the bed and climbed onto his lap. He gave you a sweet kiss on the lips and held you close.

You ran your hands slowly through his curls. You kissed him on the forehead.

"Aw, I love your kisses, baby." Willy cooed.

You smiled softly at him, caressing his jaw, "You can have my breasts now if you want some milk."

Willy's eyes lit up, and he uncovered your breasts. He held them for a moment. He squeezed your nipple, and some milk squirted in his face, making you both laugh. He then opened his mouth and put your tit on his tongue, closing his lips around it and sucking your milk out.

You rubbed the back of his head lovingly as he drank from you.

"mm, so yummy, baby." he said as he popped off your nipple and switched to the other one. He drank for a moment, and stopped to squeezed some milk out again, letting the drops wet his face. He marveled at what your body was capable of. He lapped the excess milk off of your nipple.

He fed off of you for a little bit, which was kind of relaxing for you. Then you got settled in to bed, snuggling. You were both pretty tired. He looked so darling, with his lips moistened by the taste of your milk and the look of pure love under his hooded eyes.

"I know I said I wouldn't use your milk while making chocolate, but what if it was just for my own enjoyment? Your milk is so delicious. I can't get enough, my love." he cooed, nuzzling his face into your cheek. His silky hair tickled your face. "Would you spare some for me?" he asked, his voice was soft and muffled.

You laughed, "Okay, you can make your own chocolate with my milk." you said, giving in. It was hard to say know to your sweet boy. "I can't wait for the midwife to say it's okay to have sex again. I want you so bad, Willy." You kissed his head.

"Mmm," he raised his head to peck your lips, "I know, I'm so ready to make love to you again. This time, I'm trying for triplets!" he joked.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt

[rottenpumpkin13]

Angeal makes a bet that Zack wouldn't last one week if he had to eat only vegetables. Does Zack succeed?

*Zack sits down with Sephiroth and Genesis at lunch with a plate of vegetables*

Genesis: That's very healthy of you, Puppy, but why the vegetables?

Zack: Angeal said I can't last a week only eating vegetables, so I'm making it my life's mission to prove the bastard wrong. Can you believe him? He thinks I'm some dumb kid who can't handle a little diet.

*Sephiroth bites into his fried shrimp*

Zack, sobbing: WHY DON'T YOU JUST STAB ME IN THE FUCKING HEART?

Sephiroth: ???

Genesis: This is going to be a long week.

-

*Kunsel walks up to Zack, who's chewing on a carrot, rocking back and forth*

Kunsel: Hey man, want a candy bar?

Zack: I wish, but unfortunately I can't eat anything other than vegetables this week.

Kunsel: That's a shame. The interns at R&D are giving out free candy as part of a research project.

*Zack slams his carrot into the wall*

Kunsel: I'm pretty sure they got cake too.

*Zack punches a hole through the wall*

Kunsel: And I saw some Turks walking away with donuts.

*Zack shoves his head through the hole in the wall*

Kunsel: They even have a chocolate fountain.

*Zack screams bloody murder*

-

Zack, walking into Sephiroth's office: You asked to see me?

Sephiroth: Yes, I just need you to fill out some forms. Please, help yourself to those mints in that bowl on the coffee table.

Zack: Oh no you don't. Angeal put you up to this, didn't he?

Sephiroth: No.

Zack: ADMIT IT. HE'S TRYING TO SET ME UP AND IS WATCHING ME RIGHT NOW.

Sephiroth: ...

Zack: IS HE BEHIND THE COUCH?

*Zack checks behind the couch*

Sephiroth: ...

Zack: IS HE UNDER THE DESK?

*Zack checks under the desk*

Sephiroth: ...

Zack: IS HE IN THE CLOSET?

*Zack opens the closet, 300 cups of instant noodles fall out*

Zack: WHAT THE FUCK

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 20 Prompt: Sick Day

Tags: Established Relationship, Mentions Of Past Parental Loss, Eddie Munson Needs A Hug, Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 1290 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve doesn’t get it.

He’s seen Eddie in worse shape.

Death knocking on his door, tubes, and machines keeping him alive. In spite of the shitty cards he was dealt, he always had a smile on his face — cracking jokes with the kids, charming his way into extra pudding cups and sides of mashed potatoes. Steve’s pretty sure they mourned the day he was finally released because he had a way of making even the crabbiest doctors smile.

If ever there was a time to be miserable and wallow in the pain it was then.

And yet, a winter cold has managed to knock Eddie on his ass, turning him into the most miserable, helpless version of himself.

Steve hates it.

Not because Eddie is whiney and dramatic (he’s both of those things on a good day), but because he doesn’t know what to do to help.

Days and nights blend together as Eddie stays sheltered in his bedroom. His bed is a nest of blankets and pillows — half the time he’s burrowed under them, no doubt making his fever worse, and the other half he’s propped up on pillows, desperately hoping the elevated position will ease his cough. A hoard of half-empty bowls of soups and napkins full of nibbled-on crackers are scattered on his nightstand along with the cold medicine Wayne picked up three (maybe, four?) days ago. The one Eddie refuses to take because it makes him feel worse.

His usual unruly curls are flattening by the second and his cheek has a near-permanent indentation of his wrinkled pillowcase at this point. If it weren’t for his frequent trips to the bathroom, Steve would be worried about muscle loss and blood clots on top of the hundred other ways he’s worrying about Eddie right now.

Steve’s tried everything. His grandmother’s chicken noodle soup, coaxing Eddie into a warm shower, even phoned Ms. Henderson to see if she had any home remedies he wasn’t thinking of. Nothing seems to be working.

At a loss, Steve tiptoes into Eddie’s room hoping to find him sleeping beneath the covers.

He’s not.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve coos. Toeing his shoes off, he pads his way over to the edge of the bed and runs a hand over the corner of the bed in search of Eddie’s legs. When he’s certain they’re not there, he sits. “What can I do to help?”

Eddie groans and presses the right side of his face deeper into the pillow. A single tear races down his cheek as he sniffles. “Could you just lie with me?” he croaks, voice horse from lack of use and the sore throat he’s been fighting for the last few days.

“Course, baby. Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

He doesn’t wait for the answer and instead shuffles up the bed. Resting his back against the headboard, he kicks out his legs over the hoard of blankets and lets himself sink into the warm mattress. Once he’s situated, Eddie shifts until his back is pressed against Steve’s side. It’s weird feeling the heat that radiates from his body — he’s usually the one with cold hands and feet in the relationship.

“Didn’t want to get you sick,” Eddie mumbles eventually.

“Don’t mind getting sick, if it means you’ll feel better.” Steve means it. He would shoulder all the sickness and pain in the world if it meant that Eddie and everyone else he loves never had to feel anything but happy and healthy. If only the world worked like that. “Do you need anything?”

It’s silent in the room as Steve waits for Eddie’s response. So quiet, Steve wonders if maybe Eddie’s drifted to sleep and he’s waiting for a response that’s never going to come. But then Eddie shifts beside him, slowly rolling onto his other side so he can face him.

“I need my mom,” Eddie whispers just as the floodgates open, tear after tear falling from his eyes in that slow dramatic way they only do in movies. At least, Steve thought it only happened in movies.

His heart seizes in his chest as Eddie reaches for the soft sweater he’s wearing. Doesn’t complain when he buries his face into it, staining it with tears and snot and whatever else as Eddie’s body shakes under the weight of his tears.

Christ.

He doesn’t get it, not entirely. His own mother was never the nurturing type — she’d slap down medicine on his bedside table and leave a list of places she’d be if he needed to reach her, but that was it. Never once did she rest her hand against his forehead to check his temperature, let alone sit at his bedside.

But he knows Eddie’s mom would have done those things. Probably did do all those things judging by the way his boyfriend is sobbing in his arms right now.

Admittedly he doesn’t know much about Ms. Munson — he’s gathered it's hard for Eddie to talk about her. But he knows enough to know the world lost an incredibly kind soul way too early.

“Eds,” Steve sighs, scooting down until he’s lying down with Eddie firmly curled up on his chest. He gets both arms around him, squeezing him tighter. “I wish I could.”

“She always—” Eddie hiccups, wincing as the motion burns his already aching throat. “She always used to lie down with me. Run her fingers through my hair until her ring got caught in my curls. Then she’d move to tracing up and down my arm.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice. He lets one hand drift into Eddie’s tangled curls, scratching his scalp before gently carding his fingers through a few strands. His other hand ghosts up and down his arm, goosebumps erupting in his featherlight touches wake.

“Like this?”

Eddie melts under the contact, nuzzling deeper into the warmth of Steve’s sweater. “She made the best grilled cheese sandwich when I was sick. And she’d cut them in weird ways. Let me eat them in bed while she told some story she made up on the spot.”

“Well, m’no storyteller. But I can make a grilled cheese. Probably not as good as your mom's though.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he looks up. “She had a secret ingredient she never told me.”

“Bet it was love.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, shaking his head, “That’s lame.”

“Yeah, it is. She wouldn’t have had a lame secret ingredient.”

“She was the best,” Eddie sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before they flutter open again. This time he wiggles out of Steve’s embrace and moves his head back to his pillow before grimacing at the wet stain left behind on Steve’s sweater. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Eds. S’just a sweater.”

“I know. I just…” he groans and rubs circles over his eyes with his fists. “I always miss her more when m’sick.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says, pulling at him until Eddie’s back on his chest and his hand is back in his curls. “You can tell me about her, you know? Whenever you want. I like hearing you talk about her.”

“Maybe when my throat doesn’t burn like Satan’s living room.”

Steve laughs.

There’s his boy.

“You know, that medicine over there might help with that,” Steve teases, gesturing to the untouched medicine.

Eddie wrinkles his nose in disgust, shaking his head.

“Alright, you big baby,” Steve chuckles. “Why don’t you get some sleep then?”

“Will you stay?” Eddie asks, already fighting sleep judging by his fluttering eyelashes.

“Course I’ll stay,” he whispers. “I’ll even make you a grilled cheese when you wake up.”

“Full of love?”

“Yeah, Eds. Full of love.”

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕎𝕚𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hii I love your pjsk stuff! Could I request hcs of n25 (seperately) with a reader that cries very easily? like they start crying when they trip and fall, or when someone insults them or when they get scared, i just love n25 sm

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ OMG THANK YOUUU

Hahshwhah I did my best here hihi >w< Hopefully you'll like what I did!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Kanade was always on a bit more empathetic side... whenever she saw someone in pain or struggling, she immidietly wanted to help

✧ so whenever she sees her partner struggling with emotions... she can't help but feel sad as well

✧ she'll do her best to comfort her lover every time she sees them even a little bit sad

✧ she doesn't actually mind that you're so expressive... in fact, she kinda likes that you're not hesitant to show your emotions

✧ whenever you'd be crying because of something traumatic that happened, or just over spilled milk, she'll still comfort you as well as she can

✧ if you meet with anyone laughing at how easily you cry, she'll make sure to say some positive words to cheer you up

"No... don't think about it that way... the fact you're so expressive is very adorable. And it's not healthy to bottle up your emotions, so I'm happy you let them show."

✧ but if the situation repeats too much... she won't be able to tolerate it any longer and will just confront whoever made you feel like it. And as shown in Mafuyu's focus... she CAN confront someone who's bothering someone dear to her

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @modyuki @miguelito-maruti-blog @ravenmoon903 @hakulivesformusic @hayillaaaaaaa - come get your noodle lover...

✧ Mafuyu's reaction depends on the self of her you're dating...

✧ you'd most likely date her real self bur assuming you didn't knew about it yet, because maybe relationship is fresh? She would be extra caring

✧ she probably also finds some psychological excuse to why you might be like this and react so strongly

✧ though her real self? She won't understand it... maybe it's because she never really felt emotions in the first place?

✧ you'll have to describe that your heart feels like it's being shattered and that your throat is begging to yell... only then might she understand

✧ but be careful with descriptions! Because she might accidentally mistake it for some sickness...

"Twisting in stomach? ... Maybe you just ate something over the date?"

✧ she's not really good at comforting people... so when you're constantly crying, she'll only pat your back and stand there awkwardly not knowing what else to do

✧ though she still likes you a lot... so she tries her best to help you, but she figures it might help if you just let it all out and say whatever's bothering you

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @modyuki @miguelito-maruti-blog @ravenmoon903 @wabatle - come get your aquarium lover...

✧ at first, Ena will think it's kinda cute that you're so emotional... you kinda remind her of a little kid

✧ she'll always be there for you if she sees you crying and have hand on your shoulder

✧ though she most likely won't hug you unless it's really necessary because she doesn't want to risk her outfit getting ruined...

✧ that's ar first though... as much as she loves you, when you're met every day with constant crying about everything, it can get annoying...

✧ she still tries to keep calm since she knows yelling won't help a single bit but you may feel sometimes that the comfort is a bit forced... especially if she's after bad day

✧ but she's an older sister! So despite it being a bit forceful, her comfort is still kinda good!

"Hey, hey... it's alright... Let it out, yeah? I'll do my best to help you. We can get through this together."

✧ she knows how it is to not have support in anyone, so she makes sure you know you can always lean on her for even a bit of support

✧ and no matter if you decide to face it with her or not, she'll still help you deal with your problem. Even if it'd mean facing some people for you

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @modyuki @miguelito-maruti-blog @ravenmoon903 @muffin-the-dog121 @akiritoz - come get your cheesecake lover~

✧ Mizuki doesn't really mind! Everyone expresses themselves in different ways and THIS is simply YOUR way! And they love you all <3

✧ though they also know crying over everything is certainly nothing pleasant, so they make sure to always take action if they see you in state like that

✧ they'll always offer a hug first but it's up for you to take it! If you don't like being hugged, they'll just hold your hands or wipe your tears from your cheek

✧ they like to give some comforting words first and when they see it's slowly getting better, they'd quickly do their best to make you laugh or giggle, at least a bit!

✧ and if they can't make you giggle or find anything to say, they'll just offer something you might enjoy to take your mind off bad things

"It's alright... I'm here for you... Hey, why won't we figure it all out with hot choco? We can go to our favorite cafe! Yes, the cat one! C'mon! My treat~"

✧ after seeing you cry once, they won't leave your side for the rest of the day... they're just too worried to let you go like that!

✧ and looking at the fact you cry almost every day... they're literally at your side almost 24/7

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @prsk-krow @modyuki @miguelito-maruti-blog @ravenmoon903 @superstar-ethereal - come get your cuties lover~

[fallen-flier]

the moon will sing (time traveling tim)

so. i saw this super awesome post by @puppetwoman17 about time traveling tim drake and got obsessed, so here's a small ficlet i wrote about it!

part 2

The thing is, Tim expects it. He’s faintly aware of the blood seeping from his stomach, staining his hands red— hands which are uselessly putting pressure on his wound. If he survives this, he doesn’t even want to think of all the weeks of pure agony and fever, brought on by the wonderful lack of his spleen and the fact that healing from wounds sucked, period.

Death isn’t surprising— he really didn’t think he would live past, what, twenty-five? Thirty? To live until beyond 50 with his lifestyle was, well. It sounded painful, anyways. And you would need to be a deeply paranoid neurotic. Like Bruce. Because as much as he respected his father and looked up to him, if Tim turned out anything like Batman, he’d probably find a bullet through his brain sooner or later.

Half because Tim was reckless and his plans were so convoluted and insane that nobody really knew what was going on either, just to confuse his opponent. The other half was, well. You can guess.

So. He’s bleeding out, the night is uncomfortably cold and the wind bites into his skin, sand grating against his back, and all Tim can think about is how much he hopes Ra’s al-Ghul doesn’t show up like a damned wraith and drag him kicking and screaming to the nearest surgery table and take out his kidneys or something. 

Tim’s also thinking about his family. And the probable inconveniences that come with his death. Like arranging his funeral and all his assets and his Nest and the fact that Tim is a very integral part of the family and Dick will probably fall apart and Bruce will mourn and brood, and, and damn it. Tim should probably revoke his thinking process or something.

—

Tim is twenty three years old when he bleeds to death alone, and nobody finds his body until three weeks later when his family has scoured the Earth and his distress signal rings, rings, but nobody sees it. His predictions about his family come true.

But that isn’t quite relevant, because Tim isn’t aware of such a thing. 

Instead, Tim closes his eyes and falls and jerks up on his bed, clutching his chest as years of memories flood his brain, too much for a mere eleven year old. It feels like his head has been cracked open and molten lava had been poured through, scorching his veins and circulation. It feels like agony of the highest level and Tim is faintly aware of the darkness creeping in, his mind too overwhelmed and overstimulated from years of memories flooding into his brain.

And so for the second time in a few minutes and a lifetime, Tim welcomes unconsciousness with open arms.

The next few hours are spent in pure agony, his body being too weak to move and his limbs too short for him to coordinate. He’s pretty sure that there’s a pool of dried blood underneath him from a nosebleed, but he’s too tired to turn around, so he just uncomfortably shifts away from it. Not for the first time, he thanks his lucky stars that his parents are neglectful, because he doesn’t even know how he would explain all of this. 

Two days later, he musters the strength to stumble out of bed, gulp down the bitter, carbon dioxide-filled water next to him and get to the kitchen. It’s April 1st, twelve years ago, Tim is eleven years old, and his family doesn’t know him yet.

Half of the terrible things that have happened to Dick haven’t happened yet. Jason hasn’t died yet. Duke is still a kid and his parents are healthy. Babs hasn’t been put into a wheelchair by the Joker.

Steph is still living with her father. Damian and Cass are being trained as assassins.

Mrs. Mac is due to come in a few hours. Tim looks at the blood-crusted covers of his bed and his crumpled clothes. 

Oh, shoot. 

So instead of researching or training, Tim spends the next hour trying to get the bedsheets off with his tiny, noodle arms, half stumbling on his feet because he’s way too damn short, and making his way to the bathroom so he can take a shower and get some of the blood off so it doesn’t stain too badly. 

It’s probably a lost cause. Not that his parents will notice or care about a missing bedsheet, but it feels wasteful to just throw it away to hide evidence of his unintentional time travel.

Two and a half hours later, Tim stumbles out of the laundry room, his bedsheets and pillow finally in the washer. He collapses on the nearest chair and scans the room for his father’s computer. 

He lets out a shaky breath. His family is generally unscarred. Jason is Robin again. Jason. The boy who Tim had held with a certain degree of, well, disdain. Thinking about it kind of makes him want to punch is past self in the face, or cringe in the way that you can only do when you think of something embarrassing you used to do. Like victim-blaming your older brother for getting beat to death while trying to find his mother. 

It wasn’t the only way he looked at Jason, but he had always thought of him as too reckless. Maybe he really did deserve the beating. Well, not that he believed that young teenagers should be beat up by young adults in Robin cosplay, but at least Tim wasn’t exactly traumatized by the experience. Better him than some other poor civilian kid Bruce could’ve adopted.

And Tim did get his revenge. By getting Jason on his private parts. But whatever. Revenge was revenge, and Tim was better than the whole crime lord setup his older brother had. In practice, anyways. 

Chewing on the ballpoint pen, he writes down the first thing on his list (in code, of course) since coming back in time.

prevent jason’s death 

Well. Now that he had a comprehensive list, Tim was down and ready to plan. 

—

A hour later, Mrs. Mac appears, none the wiser to what happened to him. Tim greets her as she walks in, and she smiles and greets him back, putting lunch in the fridge. She notices nothing wrong about how he stays sitting on the chair in the living room, and Tim says nothing about it. When she leaves, he pulls the piece of paper out of his book and the pen from his hair, scratching down some extra points.

Hmm. Maybe the Court of Owls should go early. Or perhaps that would create too much change?

Dick would have a better time in the future if they were gone, though. Tim frowns, dragging his pen back and forth in a short line on the table. 

He still needed to factor in the fact that he was an unknown to the family. The thing is, Tim loves their dysfunctional, broken family and he knows Bruce and Dick loved him back. But to be honest, it would be easier to change events if he wasn’t being scrutinized by Bruce every day. And it wasn’t like Tim had any shortage of money, with his parents still alive and his family fortune enough to cover whole lifetimes, so he wasn’t worried about his own safety.

It would be nice to go to college too. Maybe Stanford. He was smart enough to make it, and the location was close to the vigiliante community that if he so wanted to, he could probably join and watch his family from the outskirts. Last time around, Tim just couldn’t leave Gotham. Being a vigiliante was his life— he couldn’t even justify it as a temporary thing anymore. Their family had gone through so much tragedy and Gotham was still filled with crime and Tim had an obligation to keep her safe. It just… he couldn’t escape his mantle because he loved it, and Tim had a difficult time letting things go once he loved them. 

But if Tim could change things from the start, he didn’t need to be pulled back into the life. (He couldn’t have it, even if he loved it, because it was never his in the first place.) He could start anew, be a vigiliante when he was in college and far away from the family he hopefully would’ve fixed by then.

Well then. First things first, he needed to remove a factor from Jason’s death so he wouldn’t die in the first place.

—

Mrs. Mac comes by and cooks him lunch, and they eat in silence. Typically, Tim would fill the silence with chattering, glad to have someone to talk to in the empty manor.  But Tim’s mind is whirring, drawing up and discarding plans. By the time Mrs. Mac stands up and tells him she’s going to leave now, Tim has thought of three contingencies and twelve more future events he needs to address.

He mhms when Mrs. Mac prompts him to, and eventually she leaves out the front door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. It’s spring break and Tim doesn’t actually have anything to do because he’s in middle school now, so he mulls over the Jason problem for a few more hours.

It comes to him when he’s microwaving the leftovers from lunch, and Tim is pretty sure he’s a genius, or something. Sheila Haywood worked at a refugee camp in Ethiopia handling medical supplies, but she was embezzling funds from the organization she was working for. It wouldn’t be difficult for Tim to trace it and report her. By the time Jason began tracking her down, she would most likely be in prison, just for a few years and everything would hopefully blow over and the Joker wouldn’t blackmail her because she had no use to him in prison. 

It was cold, perhaps. But her life wouldn’t be over with a few years in prison, and Jason would be alive. Nothing more than they deserved.

Jason, alive. Then Damian, Cass, and Steph. He would see to his family, whole and happy. Then perhaps, in the future, when he was older and safely out of Bruce’s adoption zone, Tim could perhaps work with them. Laugh about how he never expected the Wayne family to be vigilantes, just to throw them off his trail. 

Tim allows himself this one selfish thought, because he has nothing else but the shattered remains of a future that will never come to be, and a family he left behind but still exists.

a/n:

i wrote this in two hours under an inspired haze of time travel and tim, two of my favorite things

tim is a super unreliable narrator if you haven't already noticed lmao

also if i get any characterization wrong feel free to leave some discourse or ping me on the head

but like please be gentle cause y'know constructive crit, not bashing

thanks for reading! :D

[writingforatwistedworld]

The order fits into self aware au. How would Malleus, Jade and Leona react to an extremely caring reader?

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, violence, murder, injuries, family problems, unhealthy relationship

Leona Kingscholar/Jade Leech/Malleus Draconia-Player is extremely caring

Let's be honest, Leona is a sucker for attention even if he doesn't show it

I mean, house cat over there was deprived of affection throughout his entire childhood so what did you expect? A healthy headspace? Haha no

So when he was sitting there, daring at the student who just stepped on his tail when he felt it for the first time

And at first it was not a great sensation

He always felt someone looking at him, watching him, him never being able to escape...

But after he also watched the black haired annoyance he soon understood what was going on... or at least he thought he did

Malleus and his little fanclu-I mean his “friends” were known for having a rather “interesting” interest in the Overseer and since that started they were saying that they were watching them

Ok so he has his own little pair of eyes staring at him no. Great great. No way he likes tho-WHY IS HE PURRING??!

Now that things have been going like that for a longer while he does notice though that you treat him different than others

Whilst you would be like “may, I can wait with your spell material” you are with him “OUT OF THE WAY! I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF MY CAT!!!”

Whilst everyone is just trying to get a tiny bit of that attention and care he is just like “I have no idea what I did but I like it”

But I think I mentioned him being starved as a kid of attention and care from his family and his general surroundings, right?

Well it's going to show right here, right now

Whilst he basis in what you give him like sunbathing he is more or less just terrorizing others

If someone dares to try to get close to him so that they might get some of his cake he will create a new sand pit

Even though his family doesn't know Leona is aware that they would be at least thankful that his magic doesn't leave any trace to follow at the scene of the crime

Just keep that attention up! Otherwise he might just snap and make short process with everyone

Confusion. Just confusion (at first at least)

Here he is, hat stand extravagance, witnessing how an all-knowing entity starting down on them is especially caring towards him

I mean, it all started on the day that exchange student ran after their friends after they got entangled in a contract with Azul

At first he thought you hated him

You were known as someone who was for fair contracts

And danger noodle over here knows that Azul plays dirty

Like “dumping mineral oil into the sea” kind of dirty

Why else were you always sending him out there to “squeeze the fishies” (-Floyd Leech, the not-so-extravagant hat stand)?

Why else were you always staring at him when he was talking to Yuu?

You gushing about him and how much you liked and wanted to take care of him didn't even cross his mind

Well, until the team was defeated for the first time

Oh boy, you were angry

But you were even more concerned about him

S-so you were just caring for him? Ha...Haha... HAHAHA- (Don't forget to breathe, Jade)

Is he overjoyed about that? Yes

Does he play dirty to keep that care to himself? Absolutely

The next time you see an NPC they might be a bit silent and avoid you

Jade is good at collecting dirt on people, you know?

Aww how cute! We like the lighter!

Jokes aside, Malleus knew immediately that you were there even though he wasn't present in the prologue ceremony

So when Lilia came home that night he just bursted through the front door, doorknob in hand, yelling words about the Overseer

The general had to calm down so that the "young" fae could finally understand what the was saying

Ah, so you were here... WAIT WHAT??!

But then... *sad dragon fae noises*

Why? Well he thought he was either so boring that you left him alone or that you avoided him because you disliked him

I mean, imagine, the one being you always looked up to, thinking they understood you to some degree, is now staying far away from you

But then why were you always heading into battle with him? And why were you so angry the first time he had an elemental disadvantage?

When you finally had enough material you shoved that straight down his throat, saying something about “can't let him get hurt” and “not this pretty nifty little thing!”

So... you liked him? Why were you avoiding him then? ... You know what? He won't ask

That doesn't mean it's good for his ego though

Whenever he sees the house cat in the garden he just has that expression that literally screams smugness

But if someone dares to say that you don't care for him?

Roasted chicken my friend. Roasted chicken

His letters to his granny are now always filled with “how kind and caring the Overseer is” and “if there is a spell to get you here”

... You know what is waiting for you, right?

[countjortula]

'I have so many headcanons about Matt' ok drop em

here's a few. I'm projecting but it's okay because I am matt jeevas and I make the damn rules here.

- has a vitamin D deficiency from hell

- used cheap hair products until mello came along and saw the absolutely disgusting, crunchy, dye/bleach damaged mop that was his hair. from that day forward, mello basically forced him to use more expensive shit.

- can and will go days on end without sleeping, either helping mello out or getting waaaaay too engrossed in games

- his diet consists of energy drinks and instant noodles (I'm projecting, I'm literally the same). even though he can cook. I like to believe that Wammy's taught these kids at least something about cooking and healthy diets and whatnot. be a bit stupid if they didn't

- prefers savoury to sweet, but likes to take small bites out of mello's chocolate sometimes

- most of his shirts are stripy, but he has some that say shit like "eat, sleep, game, repeat" or "murder is okay if you're sexy" or some absolute cringe like that

- likes salt and vinegar crisps!

- HE DOES LIKE MOUNTAIN DEW! STOP SAYING HE DOESN'T, IT UPSETS ME!

- loves jorts. totally the type or guy to wear jorts in december. he'd probably wear jorts to expensive, fancy restaurants. he would wear jorts to a job interview. this man would wear jorts at a funeral, a wedding, even a fucking baptism.

- he's a 'whatever happens, happens', guy. totally chill, just goes with the flow and doesn't let anything bother him. to be fair, he's probably too high to give a shit

- has crooked teeth and a gap in his front teeth. back at wammy's, they tried to make him get braces, but he refused because he thought hid crooked teeth were 'cool'

- he snores, and he sounds like a lawnmower when he does. it genuinely sounds like at least 10 planes taking off at the same time, it is so damn loud

- the dude ever. actually super hot under the goggles.

- CAT PERSON. HE IS A CAT PERSON.

-dropkicks or violently throws all his trash in the bin, cause it's fun as fuck.

and that's all I have for tonight because it is midnight and I'm so tired I could die. goodnight.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Endeavor - Intro/Headcanons

Endeavor is a very underrated character.

yes he was an abuser, but he is trying to be a better father. and even though hen still gets mad and doesn't really know how to show his emotions he's still trying. As someone who doesn't have the best relationship with her father, and also as some one who is trying to be a better person I can appreciate that.

I feel like if somebody were to give him a chance, somebody that has little to no knowledge of his past or status he could actually have a stable and healthy relationship with such a person.

but that on it's own is boring so make it a reader who was just recently put in an orphanage as she was saved from her neglectful parents and has no other family. we'll keep her around the age of 4-15 as those were the years that endeavor missed the most with his kids.

now, how would these two meet? I have a couple ideas and I'll write a fanfic (or fanfics) for the most popular one. (there's a poll below for y'all to decide.)

option 1 : Bus stop

reader is around 5,6,7 years old and quirkless.

so you and Endeavor have a similar morning commute at the same bus stop, at the same time, every morning. you go to school, and him to his agency. and while Endeavor never really cared for this, one morning you happen to forget your coat at the orphanage. (not that it kept you warm anyway.) the sight of a child in winter, cold and alone, practically pulled at his heart strings. a feeling overcame him I suppose, a need to protect and provide perhaps. and begrudgingly he got out a sweater, all warm and fluffy and lent it to you, grumbling something about giving it back to him later. now all snuggled up within the oversized cotton fibers of the sweater, warm and happy, all you could really do is mumble out a little thank you. Imma bout' to pull a grinch but Endeavor's heart grew 3 times that day.

Option 2 : support hero

reader is 15 and quirkless but uses support items to help her if she needs anything.

you are the apprentice of his main support hero, a wild, spunky woman who spends her days drinking, drunk, or hungover. ( I mean... good for her.) and yes while she does teach you, she usaully leaves all the real work to you. at this point she's your apprentice. so when Endeavor comes it's not her that really helps it's you! you repair, you improve, you operate the rest of the support heroes, honestly he should give you a raise. and it's nice, having you around I mean, you just always seem to make his day better, either by showing him cat memes, or explaining your latest obsession to him, or just being your self. it's a talkative and optimistic x furious monster that will fight to the death for them dynamic or a brings instant noodles to share for lunch x uses his fire quirk to actually cook the instant noodles with his fire quirk dynamic.

Option 3 : Dabi

more of a Endeavor-Dabi mix for the drama. reader is 4 and gets her quirk in the story. her quirk is a heightened version of shoto's quirk which I'll expand on if this is the fan favorite.

you are the product of Dabi and a fling he had when he was 19 or 20, and while he may not have the most money or have the money, he still tires to protect you and and make you feel as cherished and loved as one can. growing up he never really showed you what a hero was. all you need to know is that they are not good people but don't tell anyone that lots of people don't know that and might get angry. now this is fine and all, Dabi protects your innocence while also protecting you from the world that hurt him. but one thing he negelcted to teach you is who is a hero. because the description he gave you "people attempting to 'save' people and fight 'bad guys' using their quirks often with swarms of people around them." only applies to heros in action and/or heros that the public actually like. so when Endeavor is placed to patrol in a relatively bad neighbourhood (it's the best one dabi could afford HE"S TRYING C"MON) around the time kids go and comeback from school to make sure they get home safe is when he meets you. a little girl with white hair like snow and sapphire blue eyes that glisten with joy.

POLLS!!!

thx for reading!!! byyeee.

[saetoru]

Rich boy reo in college sounds so cute!!! Because you're probably his first real love (and maybe even his first partner), and he would literally buy the world from you,(also, he probs doesn't have an idea how normal, healthy relationships work bc all of his sources come from like, super stereotyped and cliche media about how girls love expensive things, jewelry and money and shoes). And I picture his first real date with you is not at a fancy five star restaurant , but rather something like instant fire noodles ramen outside a conbini, so he's a little bit unsure, y'know this man has a personal chef at home cooking all kinds of extravagant food, until he actually tastes it and now he's addicted to the "broken collage student" diet. He's just so glad to experience new thing with you, even if they might seem mundane to you.

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SWEETS — MIKAGE REO.

✩ — contents ⋮ introducing to you all: college au! rich boy! reo as your boyfriend—this time in your adventures, he tries a powdered donut for the first time

✩ — note ⋮ if you’ve been around for rb! gojo, you know the drill ;) also nonnie ty for the ask it was so cute

“what is that?” he asks, unsure. you look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“it’s a powdered donut, reo,” you raise a brow, “have you never seen one?”

“who powders donuts?” he tilts his head. it’s a bit cute, the slight pout on his face as he tries to decipher your odd little snack, the crinkle of his brow as he thinks deeply. “what’s it filled with?”

“nothing. i don’t like jelly donuts.”

“jelly?” he gapes, “just what do they feed you?”

“what do they feed you?” you ask incredulously. he shrugs, thinking about it deeply like it’s something he can’t hope to list all in one go.

“whatever my pastry chef makes, i guess,” he hums, “my dad had this one come from france once, and he made these—”

“eat this,” you hand him the donut, cutting him off as you purse your lips. “you’re not normal until you do.”

“my mom says those are bad for you,” he says like some kind of know-it-all kid—you suppose in a way, he is. “she says processed foods are not good for—”

“reo,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “your mom doesn’t love you if she doesn’t want you to have a powdered donut.”

“hey,” he pouts, “that’s not true. she’s just looking out for me—”

“just a bite,” you insist, holding it out to him as he eyes it like it’s poison in your hand, “i’ll even feed you,” you tease, reaching to pinch his cheek.

he grumbles, swats your hand away as he blushes and huffs a little at your smug grin—but ultimately, he caves, leaning forward and taking a small, hesitant bite of the confectionery in your hand.

the reaction is just what you expect: he chews, then he furrows his brows, and then he looks at you incredulously. you smile at him with a knowing look on your face as he snatches the last few bites of your donut from your hand—you can’t even be mad that he’s stolen your snack.

“why did my mother never let me have these?” he whines, “i’ve been missing out my whole childhood.”

“i’m sure you were doing just fine with private pastry chefs from france, baby,” you snort, reaching to thread your fingers through his hair as his head rests on your shoulder.

“nuh uh, they’re not like these,” he holds up his (your) nearly gone donut for emphasis, “these taste like pure sugar. i love it.”

“yeah they’re great,” you chuckle, “welcome to the lower class.”

“shut up,” he huffs, shuffling closer to you as press a kiss to his forehead, “you’re not lower class to me. you’re the classiest, most elegant, most priceless—”

“even in my coffee stained sweats?”

“especially in those,” he nods, “i’d never seen such artistically placed stains before. i was mesmerized.”

“oh good,” you giggle, hearing his quiet laugh ring next to you as he looks up and gives you a soft grin. you lean in, pressing another gentle kiss to his forehead as he closes his eyes and hums.

“thanks,” he mumbles, making you raise a brow in question.

“for…?”

“for letting me experience that,” he shrugs, a bit shy as he stares down at his lap.

reo’s always been a bit out of place. he’s always been the kid with the twisty crayons and mechanical pencils that the other kids stared at jealously. he’s always worn the brands no one can even pronounce as everyone around him went shopping together. he’s always eaten freshly packed lunch with a balanced nutrition while everyone else got soda from the vending machines.

a part of you feels bad for reo, feels a small bit of sympathy for the way he never really knows what to say or what to add in a conversation he can’t really relate to. you always watch him trip over his words when people complain about insane gas prices and the way eggs do not need to be that much per dozen.

so you smile warmly, grab his hand and lace your fingers as you grin, “experience a powdered donut?” you tease, making him huff, “oh, baby, wait till you hear about cupcakes.”

“i’ve had cupcakes,” he says indignantly, turning away from you with a pout.

“not the kind with cheap sprinkles,” you hum. “you’ll love them.”

something tells him he will, that here—with his head on your shoulder and your fingers in his hair, with store brought sweets that his mother would have heart failure seeing—here he’s just a guy, a normal guy who’s in love and that’s all there is to it.

“i love you,” he says quietly.

you smile, lean down and press a kiss to his mouth as you teasingly lick off the small bit of powdered sugar on his lips. “yeah, i love you too,” you hum, “but i would love it more if you didn’t steal my snacks next time.”

i lub him :( *holds reo in one arm and satoru in the other* these are my rich and spoiled lil pumpkins :(

[roseeycreates-blog]

I AM IN MISERY

Whenever I think about a new Avatar after Korra, it makes me sad, If Korra was gone... and so is Lin 😭😭😭 And since we are on this topic, It's a hard pill to swallow, but I think Lin would probably be the first one to go among the Gaang kids.

I'll base this on their line of work, lifestyle, environment, and traumas (since trauma can affect physical health too).

Let's start with who I think would be the last to go.

Suyin Beifong

She's the youngest among them. Traveling the world gave her happiness and an opportunity to work on her traumas (like her conflicts with her mom and sister). As the Matriarch of Zaofu, she's surrounded and cared for by the best healers and physicians. We also see how active she is with dancing and other hobbies, which makes her the healthiest.

Firelord Izumi

Before you comment "Izumi is the oldest," I know, but hear me out: We saw just a bit of her in LOK, but have you seen how fit she is for her age? As a monarch, she's been cared for by servants and healers/physicians since birth. I bet she hasn't eaten a rotten meal in her life. While she can fight, as long as Zuko is alive, he'll protect Izumi at all costs. Not just him, but the whole army of the Fire Nation will as well. So yeah, LONG LIVE THE FIRELORD! We don't know much about her, so I don't have an entry with trauma...

Tenzin/Kya

These two are tied. Let's start with Kya. She's one of the greatest healers, and if she's ever injured, she has Katara to heal her. The only trauma of hers that I know of (same with Bumi) is that Aang favored Tenzin and neglected them. Knowing her personality, she doesn't seem to mind it a lot. For her, she still has her mom, Uncle Sokka, and Bumi. As for her lifestyle, she can be a bit reckless at times, but her nature as a healer always prevails.

With Tenzin, he eats a healthy diet (Air Nomad diet). Like Kya and Bumi, Katara has him covered. He doesn't have many injuries because he doesn't fight often unless it's necessary. The main trauma he faced was his father's death and the pressure of being "the last Airbender." He worked through that by getting married and having kids. Additionally, as the leader of the Air Nation, his health is cared for by the air acolytes.

Bumi

To be honest, I almost made him tied with Lin because of their line of work and their recklessness at times. He got fighting injuries like Lin and often faced near-death experiences. They just differ in terms of trauma. Bumi handled his trauma very well; we can see how bubbly his personality is. Like Kya, despite Aang being absent, he had his mom, uncle, and sister. "You always know when I need a hug," Bumi once said to Kya, implying that they had each other's back. Oh, and he's also retired now and got bending, so yeah, his lifespan got extended.

LASTLY *sighs*

Lin Beifong

It's incredibly tough to admit, but her job is one of the toughest, and she didn't even like it. She took it to seek approval from her mom, who wasn't even happy about it. She endured numerous injuries from fighting triads, being electrocuted by chi blockers while wearing metal armor, and facing near-death experiences. Her traumas include conflicts with her mom and sister, her breakup with Tenzin, and having her bending taken away. She also has the worst way of handling these issues—bottling everything up until it's overwhelming. Her lifestyle and environment haven't been favorable either; due to work demands, she likely doesn't eat proper meals, often relying on instant noodles or beef jerky, and I bet she even skips meals. Perhaps the saddest part is that for a long time, she didn't have anyone to take care of her. Lin definitely got the short end of the stick. 😭😭😭

[itsabouttimex2]

Monkiefam: Part 0

Midnight Malaise

(Part Zero) (Part One) (Part Two)

It doesn’t particularly surprise the troop when you sneak out of your room. Both of them are fully aware that you often wander around at night like this. They know that you aren’t getting enough rest, that you aren’t eating properly.

The house is silent, save for the occasional rumbling snore from Wukong. You’ve been told to never leave your room at night- but that’s more of a suggestion than a stone-set rule. Really, as long as you don’t leave the bounds of the house, they have no trouble with your little late-night adventures.

Even the garden outside isn’t off limits, as long as you don’t go past the fences.

And beside- it’s peaceful tonight. It’s no more dangerous than taking one little stroll out in Megapolis to see the moonlight.

…you’ve come to miss Megapolis. The mountain was absolutely enchanting at first, but that was back when you thought that being here was merely a choice.

Before you had asked one of the monkeys to bring you home, and received a very firm “no”. And then went and asked the other one, only to quickly receive the same answer again.

Before all that, Flower Fruit Mountain had been lovely and welcoming.

You sit at the bottom step of the stairs, taking a moment to grab both of your shoes, wishing you had something a little sturdier. But anything that would hold up outside the soft soil of the flower garden was kept well out of your reach.

And even then, these compliant and squishy sandals are sometimes hidden to keep you inside.

MK finds you before you’ve even got the first shoe on. The kid peels it out of your hand and tosses it against the other, knocking them both into the wall.

He settles down on the same step and leans against you, pressing into the warmth offered by skinship. It’s a habit of his, a desire for touch- he’s incredibly trigger-happy with affection. The hero leans his head against your shoulder, taking in the scent of you. You smell of linen and soap and home. Too much time spent hiding in the laundry room, buried under mounds of fresh blankets and warm sheets. Something that helped to remind you of simpler days. It makes him smile, how comforting that scent is.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” No malice. No anger. Just love. And a strong note of worry.

There’s no point in lying. If you’re up this late, it’s because you want to go out to the garden and lay among the flowers and pretend that you’re anywhere but this sacred mountain.

“…I wanted to get some fresh air.”

“Not while it’s this late. It’s not safe.” He’s pretty firm about this- there’s too much worry to consider other options aside from the frequent “no” you always seem to receive. He looks at you and speaks, his voice almost reverent with love. “Instead, how about I make you a bowl of noodles and then you go to bed?”

“…I’m not really all that hungry, MK.”

“Yes you are.” He’s even more firm with that response. “I’m not asking if you’re hungry, I’m telling you. It’s been three days, Y/N. This isn’t healthy for you at all!

MK doesn’t give you a further chance to respond, just scooping you up and and walking off to the kitchen. This might’ve been harder for him, once… but you’ve lost a lot of weight during your stay.

Sitting you into a cushioned chair, MK’s humming quietly as he prepares the noodles. A well-learned cook, he’s picked up on a lot from his lessons with Pigsy- who is often stern with his training. But, even in something such as this generational cooking, you can see the kindness and gentleness MK possesses.

So you stay there in the chair, almost patiently waiting at the table. The most you do is quietly drum your fingers against the wood. Although you’re not too big on eating lately, you aren’t really brave enough to argue with the members of your ‘family’.

“It’s ready!” He slides you a bowl of steaming, delicious noodles- the savory and herbal scent alone is enough to make your mouth water. He nudges the bowl closer. He’s clearly put a lot of care and effort into making the meal, and he’s not leaving until you’ve tried it. The kid looks determined, and a little bit upset?

Maybe he’s just that worried.

With a sigh, you reluctantly tuck into the noodles and take a few deep bites.

It’s not that they’re bad. In fact, they’re objectively pretty delicious. You just… haven’t had much of an appetite lately.

MK beams at you, watching with a soft smile as you eat. “Do you like it? I made as close to Pigsy’s as I could!” He gently nudges the bowl closer, trying to get you to eat even more.

“…it’s good,” you grudgingly confess, quickly finding that your words come out slurred. There’s… something herbal in here, I think…?”

“It’s a dash of ginger for warmth and good sleep,” he says, voice cheery to mask his omission. A half-truth reaches your ears, MK leaving out the real ingredient: a ground sprig of valeriana jatamansi, it’s sedating impact enhanced by growing beside the mystical rivers of Flower Fruit Mountain.

And if you had known that, you would know that Sun Wukong had coordinated this plan with MK, giving him the herb to grind down and add to your bowl.

And after just half the bowl, your eyes are fluttering and the chopsticks waver in your hand.

He rushes forward, practically tearing the wooden sticks out of your hands before standing you back on your feet. “Bed. Now.” His voice is uncharacteristically firm, urgent. He’s a lot more serious now, almost desperate. His worry is evident in his tone.

You try to dig your feet into the wooden flooring, attempting to pull free from his grasp. “N-no, I won’t. L-let… let go.”

MK’s grip is a surprisingly strict one, though he’s quite soft while doing it. The kid’s strength only really comes into play when someone’s health or safety is at risk. He’s stronger than he looks. More importantly, he’s worried enough to drop his usual gentleness. His grip tightens, dragging you behind him as he moves onwards.

He leads you; not up the stairs to your room, but across the house to Wukong’s.

“Heh. Finally got ‘em to eat something, bud? Good job,” he says, lightly ruffling his student’s hair. “I’m proud of you.”

And MK nearly buckles at the knees, overloaded with warmth and happiness. It’s only the fact that he’s holding you now that keeps the boy from throwing himself into the affection being offered.

“Alright, both of you- get in and get comfy. We’re sleeping in tonight.”

MK tosses your nearly unconscious form to his mentor, who then tucks you in nice and tight. “There’s one of my kids… come on bud, you’re up next!”

With a gleeful laugh, the affection-seeking boy squishes in beside you, throwing his arms all around your waist.

Wukong’s chest rumbles with a deep and contented purr, nuzzling you against his fur. He bears the scent of peaches and wildflowers, sun-beaten grass and sweet honey. “Hey there, cub.” The simian’s voice is both gentle and warm, the same as the arms he wraps around you. His entire body radiates a sense of protection and safety.

“Feeling sleepy?” The Great Sage asks, one ginger-furred hand hand cupping your cheek so he can tilt your head to him.

Without a word, the simian studies your face, wearing a sad, fond smile. He can sense your unrest, your deep sorrow, the anguish of your separation from the home you adored. His ancient heart aches with worry. He’s wanted to hug you, to hold you, to ease your sadness with the power of his embrace for so long now…

And all it took to get you here was one little herb…

It’s certainly not something that he or his student will ever regret.

[ninacytosis]

Mysme characters and their random green flags

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Jumin. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

୨ৎ He loves to recommend you self-help books. It is very important for him that you have confidence, that's why he shares with you what he has learned in his own journey of self-discovery.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Saeyoung. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

୨ৎ Saeyoung cooks for you as a sign of devotion. He's learning about the importance of self-care and how he needs to be healthy in order to take care of you. He makes delicious noodles.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Zen. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

୨ৎ He happily expects one of your morning outfit checks. It's a fun routine that you two have made, to praise each other's fits before leaving the house.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Saeran. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

୨ৎ One day you started watching Tinker Bell with him, almost as a joke, and suddenly he got invested in the whole saga.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Jaehee. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

୨ৎ She's constantly trying to do recipes she sees online and lets you be her judge. Her cinnamon roles and sujeonggwa are incredible. She loves the faces you make when you taste her desserts.

PS: yes I did some research of south Korean beverages lol. I feel like everyone loves to make dishes from their home country.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Yoosung. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

୨ৎ As a kid, his mom told him that a good boyfriend had to learn to give shoulder massages. He is good at taking care of you after work, and his hands are always tender.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁Jihyun. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

୨ৎ He leaves origami pieces all over your apartment for no reason. Last night, you had breakfast with two paper dinosaurs (for anyone interested, one was a t rex and the other one was a diplodocus).