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saudadeko · 2 years ago

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ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:

1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.

2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.

3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).

4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!

5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-”, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.

6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.

7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.

8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.

9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.

10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.

11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.

12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.

13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.

Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵

#adhd #actually adhd #living with adhd #adhd tips #felt like writing these out for reference as needed

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snarfflarf · 2 months ago

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game changer season 7 prediction: "Where's Sam?"

contestants are called onto stage only to find that sam is not physically there, but rather is on a recording on the screen. sam, who is wearing a red and white striped suit by the way, reveals that he is hidden somewhere in la and that the first contestant to find and tag him wins. sam gives the first clue and the contestants run off. contestants must follow a trail of clues scattered throughout la in order to track down and locate sam. these clues range from riddles cleverly disguised as graffiti, letters in mailboxes, etc. to more visual gags like a red and white striped tie tied around a fence or a bag of chompskys potato chips in a trash can to indicate that sam had gone that way, to special guest cast members who give out "side quests" (small tasks like solving a puzzle, shooting some hoops, or even going into a nearby store and buying them a sandwich) in exchange for clues.

#game changer #dropout #sam reich

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cheralith · 15 days ago

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— urge.

feat. isagi yoichi (with michael kaiser) || wc: 3.0k cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used, non-canon au, dark content/dead dove do not eat: cannibal!isagi, cannibal!kaiser, gore, blood, body horror, descriptions of cannibalism a/n: au is lowk a mix of tokyo ghoul and beastars im ngl

THE URGE: Shortened from "the urge to feast", a strong compulsion felt by cannibals who have previously feasted on human flesh to consume it once more either to satisfy a craving or feel the effects of human flesh again.

It pains him. How easily he’s able to gaze upon regular food like it’s nothing.

And it should be nothing to him. It isn’t a delicacy. It’s just a regular ham sandwich with potato chips—a lunch served at even an elementary level. A child can make this. But for some reason, when Isagi stares at the piece of meat and vegetables wedged between the sourdough, he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.

After all, the blood from earlier is still ghosting his tongue. Such a taste would be hard to overcome with just a regular sandwich. He swallows, feeling the ghost of a chunk of flesh run down his throat.

His stomach growls, twisting from the emptiness consumed in the past day and a half, but still. He refuses to move, not when he understands that his mouth doesn’t naturally salivate at the sight of food in front of him. Literal food. Something is wrong.

“It won’t kill you,” you mutter, watching how warbly Isagi’s eyes and lips get as he continues to stare at the sandwich placed before him. “But what will is your hunger. You need to eat.”

“I don’t think I should…” he whispers. Shame wallows down upon his body, restricting him from moving. His stomach angrily rumbles again, a high-pitched whine.

“You can still eat regular food normally,” you sigh and cross your arms. “You should anyway, it’ll suppress the urge. If you keep your stomach empty, the more powerful it’ll become.”

His stomach gurgles again unpleasantly, begging for the food in front of him despite all odds he places against himself. A shaky breath draws from chapped lips, eyes closing as he picks up the sandwich and takes a hesitant bite out of it. Slow chews draw the familiar bland taste of the bread mixed with the sauces and meat, lettuce crunching all too softly.

It feels too easy to bite through. The bread is too airy; spongy. The crunch of the lettuce is too quiet; it’s not as splitting and shattering as bone. Isagi’s jaw ticks. He shivers.

It doesn’t feel like the chewy flesh from the salaryman he had feasted upon, his fatty tissue feeling like the most tender of meats when Isagi had torn himself a piece from his skin, spitting out the suit’s fabric and chewing heartily on the skin amidst the heat of the moment, his mind separated from his body that acted on pure instinct. How the intestines had started to spill from how much he ate from the fleshy part of the belly, unravelling themselves from the caverns of the body.

He remembers the slickness of blood coating his mouth, the metallic tang spreading across his palette, along with the odd sweetness of skin—a malt flavor he had never tasted until now, bits of skin stuck between his teeth.

At least his stomach has stopped twisting itself, satiated from the nourishment. But it doesn’t cease the craving. Something is still missing.

“Feeling better?” you inquire as Isagi gulps down his cup of water.

He sighs as he puts his cup down, wiping his mouth. The water is too thin; it just barely manages to quench his thirst. “Yeah. I think.”

“Interesting,” you murmur whilst pulling out your notebook from your lab coat. You untuck your pen from your ear, scribbling something down.

He blinks, confused. “Wh-what’s interesting?” he asks worriedly when he sees your pen moving violently.

You snap your notebook shut, tucking it back into its designated pocket and looking straight at him, a curious glaze over your eyes.

“You sure you don’t feel anything? Like not even a compulsion?” you ask again.

Isagi pauses, then shakes his head. His mouth still feels dry and he feels full, but not content. Like a mild itch that has yet to be scratched.

“That’s funny,” you state while tilting your head and point at the now crumb-littered plate. “Because that sandwich you ate wasn’t ham. It was sliced human flesh. Specifically from a teenager’s chest.”

Isagi’s face draws a blank look. Time pauses for a moment for him to digest your words.

Human… flesh? But, he doesn’t feel as replete as he did when he devoured the man in the alleyway. He doesn’t feel the rush of euphoria, nor the constant salivation to prepare his mouth for more.

Then, Isagi shouts a swear, scrambling up from his seat and clutches his mouth in horror. It still feels dry, but he can’t risk it. Heavy breaths come and go, a poor attempt to calm him down from the feat he had just done.

“You—!” he points an accusatory finger at you, anger and betrayal on his half-hidden face, tears pricking his eyes. “You tricked me! You said—you said you would help me stop the craving. Why the fuck would you—”

“Do you feel the urge?” you ask suddenly, cutting him off, with your face as calm as ever despite his antics.

Isagi’s gaze captures your own, your eyes boring into him, clearly analyzing every movement he does. “What?”

“I said,” you roll up your sleeves, showing off your fresh, unmarked skin off to him. Isagi yelps and closes his eyes, fearing that he’d feel the horrible rush of dopamine that he felt two days ago when he sunk his teeth into the arm of the salaryman. “Do you feel the urge?”

“Please don’t—!” he gasps, desperate and ashamed of what may come.

“Isagi,” you call for him again, more sternly. “Open your eyes and look at me. Do you feel the urge?”

A furious shake of his head makes the blood rush to his head, eyes still glued shut. He wails aloud again, nails embedding themselves into his cheek, his hand being a make-shift muzzle. “I don’t want to hurt y-you!”

“Isagi!” you bellow. “You need to calm down! Just tell me if you—”

“Cover your arms!” he howls again, his other hand going to clutch his hair. “Before I do something bad!”

He can hear the clicking of your shoes and smell your perfume as you come closer to him and snatch his arms away from himself, unsheathing his layer of protection. He doesn’t even realize tears are beginning to spill from him until you force him to look up at you, your brows furrowed in frustration.

“Get ahold of yourself,” you state once more, your voice bellowing itself in the clinic’s office. “Ground yourself properly. Then tell me if you actually feel the urge to eat flesh again. You’re being hysterical.”

Shallow breaths run through him, slowing his heartbeat and his mind from all the thoughts of the future that ruptured his consciousness temporarily. He stares incredulously at you, your frustrated countenance making him quiver before you suddenly, feeling small despite his physicalities surpassing yours by miles. He hears the hum of the air conditioner once again, the ringing in his ears suddenly gone, as well as the wind of the ceiling fan and the scent of cleaning products of the clinic.

His pupils dilate, mind returning back to its original awareness once more of where he is. Isagi swallows again, feeling his mouth still dry and devoid of moisture. He glances up at you and at your bare arms, not feeling any sort of desire to latch his teeth onto them despite how tender they looked.

“You good?” you ask, gripping his arms still.

A staccato of short, but steady breaths run through his lips. Isagi purses them, then nods slowly, a slight hiccup managing to slip its way through. You sigh, carefully letting go his arms and letting himself gather back up again on the counter, the panic dissolving away as you roll back down the fabric of your lab coat’s sleeve.

“What you ate,” you start, putting his dishes into the sink and facing him, “was the flesh of a dead human. We give those to people in rehab because the blood has thinned and isn’t as fresh, so you couldn’t feel the fullness of its effects, meaning you’re still at a stage where you can control and not be dependent on it.”

You turn back to him, Isagi fidgeting a little in his seat. “Will I eventually go back to normal then if I learn to control it? Like, not craving flesh, I mean… and just craving regular food like a hamburger,” he states.

An apt pause runs through the clinic. Isagi looks at you, waiting patiently for your response in anticipation that this hellhole he got himself into has a way out.

Your gaze softens at him, apologetic. Isagi stiffens at your reaction.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, “but once you’ve gotten a taste of human flesh, it’s impossible to go back to living like a regular human.”

His heart drops, his chest icy as if it just plunged itself into deep water. His vision hazes a bit as he digests your words, or at least attempts to.

You shuffle your cold hands into your pockets, leaning against the countertop.

“Humans are on the highest level of the food pyramid—ultimately meaning human meat is of utmost quality and is desired the most. Society just happens to have this contract that we aren’t allowed to each other to uphold a peace,” you sigh and roll the tension out of your neck, noticing Isagi’s petrified stare, a stare you’ve grown rather accustomed to from patients like him over the years. They’ll ask if there’s a possibility of normalcy, you’ll say no, and comes the realization that they’ve turned into nothing but monsters.

“Those who break it, the ones that give into the urge and eat another person,” your eyes flicker to him. “They’re viewed as taboo not only by society, but to themselves. They’ll torture themselves over it, succumbing to madness, which compels the urge to rise back up again. And the cycle repeats.”

Isagi is motionless, still struck by shock at the fact that one impulsive move had led to his entire downfall as a human being—a title that he no longer has the permission of bearing because he’s no longer human, not when he did such a beastly act to another. Not when he feasted upon that poor salaryman like a rabid, starved animal depleted of substance.

He had looked like one at the time of discovery of his crime. Blood dripping down his chin, crimson staining his teeth, his canines bared. The dead salaryman before him, chunks of his skin ripped off in places where Isagi’s teeth had ripped from his body to eat, to consume, euphoria filling his brain with each chew and swallow. His hands were gripping onto the body so harshly, just in case it got away, despite the beating of the salaryman’s heart stopping minutes earlier.

You let him take a chance to speak, but when Isagi fixates his gaze to the wooden countertop again, eyes wide and watery, you sigh once more.

“But that’s where you come in,” you tap on the counter, grabbing his attention at last. “That’s why I wanted you to be my guinea pig for drugs I’m prototyping to help cannibals like you, even thought I’m not one. To stop whatever urges may come before they get worse.”

Isagi pauses, replaying the memory of you asking the officers to release him on behalf of your pharmaceutical company, that you “helped rehabilitate” people like him. He could barely digest anything outside his jail cell from the time, still barely conscious from the act he had done earlier, but he picked up that much and trusted you instantly when you extended the first kind hand he had gotten since being thrown into the cell.

“My name’s (Y/N). I’m a pharmaceutical scientist from the nearby university,” you had said to him. “I’m here to help you, if you’ll let me.”

“I agreed to be helped,” Isagi starts, a low mutter in his voice. “Not be a test subject.”

You open your mouth to interject, but the door opens suddenly, making you and Isagi pause in your tracks as a blonde stranger walks in in a somewhat straggled manner.

He’s tall, at least six feet, and wearing red pants with a black button-down that seems to be stained with something, a dark patch in the clothes. His hair chopped into a mullet, dipped in striking blue at its ends. But perhaps the most prominent thing about him was that on his left side of his neck reveals a blue rose tattoo with a black vine running down its arm and leading to a crown tattoo on the back of his hand. Isagi’s eyes narrow at his rather flashy appearance.

He breathes heavily, a stain of red that matches his eyeliner that frames around sharpened azure eyes that aim towards you painting at the side of his lips.

“Micha?” you question in surprise as the man hobbles toward you. “What’s going on?”

“I ran out—” he heaves dryly, eye twitching, a quick flash of scarlet wavering in and out of his blue hues. “I ran out of vials… shit, do you have any on you?”

Isagi watches as he pulls out a long, but empty tube flickered with red spots inside of it from his pants pocket. Blood, he suspects.

“I…” you stagger back, whipping your head around to look for something. “No, I haven’t had time to prepare you a fresh batch yet, you went through them that quick?”

The man mutters a swear, fisting the vial in his tattooed hand so tightly that Isagi thinks it’ll shatter within it. “Fuck… fuck! Hurry up and prepare me one then! Everything fucking hurts!”

“I don’t have my kit on me,” you say in a gentle attempt to calm him down. “We have some spare frozen fingers the mortuary gave us, will that help?”

Isagi can see visibly now as the man draws clearer that he’s salivating—a harsh pool of saliva building up in his mouth that he seems to be swallowing every second.

“No, no I don’t want flesh, I just want blood,” he groans out, Isagi’s presence still unnoticed by him. The man stumbles into the back of the countertop, slamming himself onto it in imbalance.

Your brows pinch, trying to find a solution to his pain before understanding that there was nothing before you to use. Instead, you pull down the collar of your shirt, where Isagi can see the faint bite marks and scars ridden leftover on your skin. He has to stop himself from reacting.

“We agreed only for emergencies…” you warn slowly to the man, whose pupils dilate at the sight of your open neck. “Just take what you need for now. You almost drained me la—”

The man snarls and suddenly lurches forward, his teeth baring and latching themselves onto your neck, sinking them so deeply it breaks skin and draws a river of blood down your body, staining your clothes and lab coat a ribbon of red. An extreme howl of pain rips itself from your lips from the impact, your body going limp from the pressure and rapid blood loss as the man licks at the drawn red rapidly, desperately.

He manages to catch and grasp you before you can fall to the floor, situating you in his arms and moaning at the taste of your raw blood with bits of your flesh that he laps up, eyes flickering madly with red the more he consumes of you.

Isagi stills, just watching the sight unfold before him and not knowing what to do. Clearly you knew him, so he didn’t have to call for help, and had even offered your skin to him, but you look to be in so much pain from the twisted look on your face and the way that you grapple onto him, it worries Isagi. He just merely watches in shock as the man continues feasting, blood dripping onto the floor from your arm, until you let out a cry for him to slow down.

The man’s eyes suddenly draw towards him, hooded and narrowed, like he was questioning why Isagi was here, but he says nothing and continues to lick at your blood—all the while still maintaining eye contact with Isagi.

The latter can only stare back in a hard gaze, wanting to tell him off and let you go, but as soon as his courage worked itself up, the man detaches himself from your neck, mouth rimmed with ruby. He licks his lips, clearly satisfied, with the blue settling back into his irises.

A soft groan whispers itself from you, and you weakly fall forward with your eyes closed in the remnants of pain. The man grips you again in his hold, his tattooed hand running up and down your back as if to soothe you—as though he just didn’t commit one of humanity’s most notorious crimes right in front of a witness.

“Thanks,” he mutters softly into your hair.

“Anytime,” you heave, defeated. Your eyes crack open and they focus back on Isagi in a tired manner, making him stiff up again at your attention. “Sorry Isagi… let me just clean myself up really quick and I’ll… get back to you.”

He can only nod in silence and widened eyes, questioning what on earth had just unfolded in front of him right now and what to do about it considering he just did witness what could be defined as a feasting right in front of him… even though the man didn’t actually take any flesh from you, just blood.

You cover up the bite mark with your blood-vined hand and tell Isagi you’ll be right back, with the man helping you hobble your way to the back of the clinic. Just before you and him go behind the door, however, the man throws him another suspicious look from over his shoulder, as if to send some sort of warning message.

Isagi can only return it back in what he hopes to be equal fervor, brows furrowing and eyes hardened.

The man’s lips tilt up into a steady smirk. Then, he disappears behind the door with you, leaving Isagi alone with his thoughts.

He reels his gaze back to where you and him stood before Isagi, against the back countertop. Isagi’s eyes narrow, however, when he sees the dropped vial from earlier sitting limply on the floor.

Next to it, a small puddle of blood.

Isagi draws a breath, staring at it and its rich color and how strangely enigmatic it was. Isagi gulps, a wetness pouring over his tongue suddenly.

He licks his lips, eye twitching.

a/n: prequel with kaiser: compulsions

#kaiser just accidentally slipped in here idk what happened #actually yes i do i just dont want to admit it ;;;;;//;#also i may have borrowed his scene from a past post LOOK AWAY IM NOT CREATIVE #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #cw ; dark content #tw ; cannibalism #tw ; gore

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motleyfam · 8 months ago

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Smudge

“I received another call from the boy’s school today.”

Bruce sighs heavily. “Is he still not eating?”

“According to his teacher, at lunch today Master Richard consumed six potato chips, discarded his sandwich and carrot sticks entirely, spent a few minutes attempting to balance the orange on the end of his nose, and then traded his cheese stick for a classmate’s novelty eraser—which I am told is shaped like a crocodile.”

It’s an alligator, actually. Dick can tell from the flatness of the creature’s snout. He’s holding it right now, flipping the little rubber animal over and over between his fingers as he sits perched on the very top of the bookcase in the hall outside Bruce’s study.

His new guardian lets out a low, bitter laugh. “Well, that’s three more chips than he had yesterday.”

Alfred’s tone is stern. “Master Bruce, need I remind you that the social worker will be paying us a visit this weekend?”

“And what exactly do you suggest I do, Alf? Tie the kid to a chair and force him to eat?”

“Certainly not,” Alfred says coolly. “But perhaps a little more involvement on your part might encourage your young charge to actually consume a full meal.”

Dick sets the alligator on his thumbnail and flips it into the air like a coin. It lands on his open palm, bottom-side up. He flips it again.

There’s more conversation in the study, but Dick lets the words wash over him, flipping the gator over and over between his fingers. He’s not trying to be difficult—really—it’s just that ever since that night at the circus, nothing tastes quite the same.

It’s fine though; he’s not that hungry anyway.

“Dick.”

The nine-year-old startles, suddenly aware that Bruce is standing below him. “What are you doing up there, chum.”

“Sitting,” Dick says simply. “Wanna see what I got?” He holds up the eraser.

“How about you come down and show me at the dinner table?” Bruce suggests. “Alfred made meatloaf.”

Dick makes a face. “I’d rather stay up here.”

“Why’s that?”

He shrugs. “I like being up high.”

“Hn.” Bruce hesitates a moment, mulling this one over. Then he places his hands behind him on the file cabinet and hoists himself up to sit cross-legged on top. “Let’s see the crocodile.”

“It’s an alligator,” Dick corrects, passing it to him.

“No, it’s an eraser,” Bruce says, turning it over in his fingers to examine each side. He rubs at the dark smudge where Dick tried to use it to erase a smiley face he’d doodled on his math sheet earlier. It hadn’t worked very well.

Dick rolls his eyes. “You sound like my dad.”

“Hn,” is all Bruce says.

Neither of them say anything for a while.

“...You like McDonalds?” Bruce finally asks.

Dick shrugs. “It’s alright.”

Bruce hums. He pushes off from the file cabinet, hopping down and reaching back up to take Dick’s hand.

“C’mon,” he says. “We can have Alfred’s meatloaf tomorrow.”

#drabble #wordcount: 500 #faster than the batmobile zine #food issues #grief #kid dick grayson #battison #batman fic #batfam

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dfortrafalgar · 4 months ago

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It's A Match

Law x Fem Reader

Maybe some things are just meant to be.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. did you know if you open your google docs at 1am and find over 10 finished or almost finished fics from the start of requests on this blog that you might feel immense amounts of guilt never seen before in mankind? me neither

ugh. i miss law. and this blog... sorry to keep ya'll waiting so long </3

This is the second part to my request fic An Out!

Warnings: None! Just lighthearted fluff and good vibes <3

Law snorted at his phone before shoving it back into the pocket of his baggy sweatshirt, trying to turn his focus back to his anatomy textbook in preparation for an upcoming exam. It was quite hard to fully turn his mind off, however.

A rumor had started circulating around the small college campus by a certain girl, peeved at how ‘Her date ended in a complete disaster! She walked in on him making out with another woman! He led her on! He’s such a scumbag!’ Given this girl’s reputation as a fairly popular figure, the accusations were quickly pointed at Law. Not like his friends helped to bail him out in the slightest. Though, she failed to mention many important details, such as the fact that they were in a public bookstore, the fact that she spent the better part of three hours insulting everything about Law’s personality and interests, and had made him pay for her overpriced lunch with his already feeble college income. Not like her expansive social circle would care about Law’s point of view, anyway.

Oh well. It certainly could’ve been worse.

And besides, the girl Law did end up dating as a result of his disaster outing ended up being the best thing to ever happen to him, and it had only been about a month.

She was quick on her feet, dedicated and committed to her friends, hobbies, and work. She was as intelligent as she was witty, sensitive and empathetic, the kind of girl who would help elderly folk cross a busy street… and then bash a dent into the side of a pompous asshole’s overpriced SUV for not stopping while she helped the elders. And it was true that she attended the same college as Law. She was even in one of his general education lectures, but the class attendance was so large that she had never stuck out to him.

Until now, of course.

Now, he turned heads by making a beeline toward her at the start of every lecture, the girl moving her bag to the side to free up the seat she had been clearly saving for him. He dutifully took notes on PowerPoint slides that had no relevance to his future as a cardiopulmonary surgeon while she whittled away the monotonous hours playing Minesweeper on her laptop. But she was the one who would lend him the required reading for the class, Law being too frugal to pay for his textbooks himself and instead choosing to coin them off of others, or straight up pirate them.

They seemed like a match made in heaven.

“And I’m Dr. Heart Stealer’s girlfriend,” she boasted to nobody but Law while taking a bite out of her deli sandwich in the cafeteria. “If I ever see that girl on campus again, I hope you dip me super far down and make out with me sloppy style.”

Law nearly choked on the potato chip in his mouth. “Never say that ever again.”

“What, you don’t want to make out with me?” she asked, feigning offense, clearly knowing that he was more concerned about the other part of her sentence.

“No, I want to make out with you. But if you ever say ‘sloppy style’ to my face ever again I’m getting a restraining order.” The look in his eyes told her that he was serious, but the smirk on his lips proved otherwise.

“And Dr. Heart Stealer claims another victim,” she sighed woefully.

Law flicked a chip crumb from his hand toward her, laughing under his breath as it bounced off of her forehead. A surprised giggle left her throat as she pretended to scoff at him. She swallowed a witty comment with a hefty bite of her sandwich.

“I’m too hungry to keep bickering with you,” she muttered with her mouth full.

“There’ll be plenty more time for that,” Law countered, smiling into the back of his tattooed hand. A chime sounded on his phone, causing him to pull the device from his pocket.

“Time to go?” she asked, wrapping up her unfinished sandwich in the aluminum foil it had come in.

“Unfortunately,” Law groaned. “I have another exam this afternoon.”

“You’re going to become the world’s greatest surgeon with the amount of tests they make you take as an undergrad,” she added, packing up her things and watching with bright eyes as Law did as well. “If I ever have a severe heart condition, I’d want you to give me a transplant.”

‘There’d probably be conflict of interest about a surgeon operating on his wife,’ he thought, before quickly scrambling his thoughts. His cheeks flushed with a deep red hue.

“Hey, what about that was so crazy?!” she demanded with a laugh. “Why are you blushing?”

She slipped her hand into his, noting his quiet mumble in response, as they proceeded out of the dining hall and into the chill air of early autumn. She shivered and pulled the collar of her coat tighter around her neck with her free hand. “I don’t know how you can stay so warm dressed in so little,” she sighed.

“When you’re raised in the North Blue, you get used to the cold,” he stated back.

“Us South Blue folk don’t have it so easy, but you’d probably melt instantly in our summers,” she replied with a laugh.

“I don’t know how to swim, either, so that would definitely suck.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she demanded, whirling around to face Law and cutting off his walking path. “You don’t know how to swim?!”

“Nope,” he responded, accentuating the P sound with his lips. “My dad likes to joke that I’m cursed or something. When I get in the water, I just sink.”

“I’ll teach you how to swim,” she boasted reassuringly. “I only ever float.”

Law glanced down at her chest for a brief second, then back up to her eyes. She smirked at him.

“Saw that.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

Instead of continuing the endless cycle of denial, Law simply laughed, snatching her hand back into his and dragging her to her own dorm building so they could depart and he could take his last exam of the day.

“Want me to get anything while you’re hunched over some paper?” she asked.

“Some popcorn would be nice,” he answered.

“And a movie? We can watch that new crappy B-rank film that just came out LineTube.”

Law answered her last question by placing a warm, slightly chapped kiss against her lips. “A movie sounds fantastic, baby.”

With a wide smile and sparkling eyes, she nodded and darted back into her building, adrenaline coursing through her veins as a result of his sudden, fiery kiss. Law chuckled as he watched her round the corner into the building, shouldering his backpack and proceeding toward his lecture hall.

He never thought he could ever have this much fun in a relationship, especially not a romantic one. He shouldn’t have doubted this girl in the first place though, not with the way she gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a breathtaking kiss and public display of completely fake rom-com style betrayal in order to bail him out of a shitty date. She had been nothing but a light in his otherwise boring life in the month that had passed. No longer did Law wake up just to go to class, study, eat, and study some more. Now his daylight hours were spent hanging out with this gorgeous, hilarious and impactful girl who liked to spurt out facts about insects just as much as he liked to indulge in graphic descriptions of open heart surgery. And studying, obviously.

His best friends loved making fun of him for it, but he could see it in their eyes just how much they loved her too. Having her around encouraged Law to go out more often, visit his friends’ apartments, go out to bars and restaurants, or take spontaneous drives around town at night. He was like an entirely new person. Still broody and short-tempered, but far more understanding and even somewhat outgoing, more than he had ever been before.

She was like a dream come true.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law oneshot

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amazinglyegg · 5 months ago

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What the companions would make you if they had access to a kitchen:

Cait

I'm thinking a nice stir-fry or rice with a shit ton of vegetables and PROTEIN

Of course she loves her protein

Hmm or maybe a lasagna. Nice and dense.

Whatever she makes, there'll be enough of it to go around

She gives off food insecurity to me so I feel like she prefers to take her food and eat alone most days

But you WILL have a shitton of leftovers!

Codsworth

A nice breakfast spread like what you'd see in movies.

French toast, eggs (sunny side up or your preference if he knows it), bacon, several options of cereal in those little fancy cereal dispensers, pancakes or waffles depending on your preference, fresh fruit laid out...

And of course a glass of orange juice

He wants nothing more than for you (and anyone else you're sharing the meal with) to sit down and enjoy while he cleans the dishes and helps out

Just like old times <3

Curie

Baking time!!!!

Cookies are her go-to

Does that thing where you use your thumbprint to make a heart shape and fills it with jam

They come out perfect every time. She leaves them out on a plate and they're gone within a minute

Just be warned she might eat the cookie dough. Would definitely make edible cookie dough just to eat it raw at like 1am

Danse

He's a protein shake and plain hard boiled eggs type of guy

He wouldn't make you a meal, but would mealprep your entire week for you

(It's just plastic tupperware of boiled eggs and like, one whole carrot)

If he HAD to make an actual warm meal it'd probably look exactly like Brotherhood rations

Mashed potatos, plain crackers, and some vague meat in sauce

Deacon

This man lives like he will be killed via sniper if he ever expresses a genuine feeling

So as much as I'd like to say he'd make a meal that's really important to him, he'd probably just grab the nearest cookbook and pick a random recipe

Not even he knows what it's gonna be like until it's made

He also doesn't want to be associated with a certain meal so he'll only make it once or twice. If you want it again then YOU have to cook it!

If he's completely alone and just making something for himself, then maybe a nice sandwich or sub

I don't know why but he just gives off sandwich vibes

Dogmeat

Can't cook

He would, however, oversee the situation and taste test when needed

Gage

Grill dad

He'd make like, ribs and baked potatoes. Nice and filling and also pretty damn messy

Not too big on vegetable but he'd also grill like, corn on the cob or maybe some skewers

Chicken wings perhaps???

Maccready

Weird food combinations is this man's bread and butter (or bread and ketchup)

He WILL hand you a turkey sandwich with ketchup and potato chips in it. And it will taste good.

Or like, steak sushi. Spaghetti on pizza. Mayo dumplings?

He can make basically anything, but he just has some really weird preferences

If you can get over the strangeness it's actually pretty decent

Nick

Toast and black coffee <3

That's it

I mean like he'll make you tea or something if you don't like coffee

Pre-war Nick always had toast and coffee for breakfast in the morning so it's nostalgic to him

Old Longfellow

"Oh he'd make a fish based meal" NO. He lives next to the water he's probably SO DAMN TIRED OF FISH

Chicken noodle soup maybe, but like high quality chicken noodle soup with some nice spices

Or maybe a pot roast??

Piper

Weirdly enough, as much as she loves sweets I feel like she'd be a much better cook than a baker

She'd make a nice well rounded meal with protein, carbs, 1-2 vegetables. Gotta make sure Nat's eating well

Not huge on spices though. Like your mashed potatoes will be buttery and smooth as fuck but you're limited to like basic box gravy and maybe salt and pepper.

I feel like she can and will make an entire turky dinner. Just out of nowhere. There's like 7 different sides and an apple pie Curie made.

Preston

Oh this man will make a MEAN stew

It's his go-to. He can share it if needed, have leftovers to feed himself for multie days, and it's versatile

I'm thinking either radstag or brahmin meat, or maybe a bone stock, but in the past he's made stews out of basically anything, from bugs to deathclaw meat

He also has a soft spot for campfires and would love to roast marshmallows or cook hotdogs or something around a fire

X6-88

Grabs an apple for himself and leaves.

The Institute eats SUPPLEMENT PACKETS there is NO WAY this man knows how to cook

He's probably a picky eater too, and he only likes those packets

He's gonna be living off a diet of applesauce and ensure for a long while

Honestly he might enjoy taking his food (any food) and putting it in a blender. It fixes the sensory aspect of it.

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #TUMBLR POSTED THIS BEFORE I WANTED TO >:(#so i GUESS this is finished #headcanons #cait #codsworth #curie #paladin danse #deacon #dogmeat #porter gage #maccready #nick valentine #old longfellow #piper wright #preston garvey #x6 88

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smallandangry24 · 6 months ago

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I will fight the devil that is salt & vinegar till the day I die some of us enjoy not eating battery acid 😤

#meanwhile my twin eats them like…well #Potato chips #pickle is for sandwiches only and spicy are pretty good #wtf is prawn cocktail #I love horse radish and ketchup but hate cocktail sauce

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nonasuch · 2 years ago

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a DnD item that should exist:

the Brown Bag of Plenty

The Brown Bag of Plenty looks like an ordinary brown paper sack lunch. Once per day, a PC may use it to provide a healthy and nutritious lunch to each member of the party. All lunches consist of the following (with substitutions for allergies and other dietary restrictions):

One peanut butter (or other nut butter in case of allergy) and jelly sandwich on wheat bread. Type of jam is randomized, with grape and strawberry most common. Sandwich will be cut diagonally.

One juice box, also randomized.

One bunch green grapes

One packet carrot sticks

One packet crunchy snack food (most commonly potato chips, but flavors are randomized and other types of chips, crackers, veggie puffs, popcorn, etc are also possible)

One packet cookies (most commonly chocolate chip or Oreo-like sandwich cookie)

Eating a lunch from the Brown Bag of Plenty will restore 1d6 hit points for each item consumed. This effect will not take place unless the fresh fruit and vegetables are eaten — i.e., eating the cookies alone will have no effect, but after eating the grapes and carrot sticks 3d6 hit points may be restored.

If the PC enters a body of water within 45 minutes of consuming a lunch from the Brown Bag of Plenty, they will lose 1d6 hit points for each item consumed.

In addition to providing 1 healthy lunch per character per day, the Brown Bag of Plenty will also dispense orange slices (2 per PC) after combat, with the same 1d6 effect as its lunches.

#dnd

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altocat · 3 months ago

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I want more sephzack snacking headcanons

Oh lmao. They're the WORST together.

Before Zack, Sephiroth refused to so much as LOOK at a potato chip. Or pizza. Or bacon. Or ANY sort of strict no-no item that was not on his Shinra prescribed diet.

Zack has a funny way with words though. And a funny way of directly advertising things without doing anything at all. The sheer AUDIO of those loud cronches was enough to get Sephiroth to hesitate and try a damn Pringle.

Five minutes later and Zack is trying to pry the container from Sephiroth's cold dead hands.

They are horrible influences on each other. Zack is Sephiroth's #1 dealer. They meet covertly so Zack can slide him a couple of donuts or a hotpocket or whatever Sephiroth is in the mood for at any given moment.

Friday is Pizza Day. Usually they're both pretty depressed at the end of the week because of drama with their friends. So they share two giant boxes together and wallow in comfortable pizza-bloated silence.

Zack has also introduced Sephiroth to the joys of breakfast. Before, Sephiroth was always used to some sort of synthetic rice gruel from the lab. Then Zack gets him hooked up on fluffy pancakes or greasy bacon and egg sandwiches. Sephiroth would literally commit Nibelheim 2.0 if someone tried to take his Mcmuffin away.

Whenever they are going through a mission together back at the base, stooping over paperwork or holding a private 1-1 conference sussing out a region, the loud sounds of crunching, slurping, and chewing can be heard between them as they most definitely have brought a big pile of snacks to share with each other.

Sephiroth introduces Zack to his love for cup noodles, with Zack often bringing Sephiroth uniquely flavored items as a "gift"--whether it's to apologize or just because he wants to make Sephiroth happy.

Both of them have gotten a sugar high at the exact same time and were basically speaking in another language to each other.

Both of them have also entertained private "celebrations" at the biggest buffets in Midgar together. Zack finds Sephiroth's appetite honestly rather alarming whenever he's in a good mood.

Zack likes to pretend it's a secret "Club" that only he and Sephiroth share together. Sure, they're bad influences. And a LOT of it is stress-eating. But it's a special bond that they can share together, however unhealthy.

Hojo is NOT PLEASED by this development between them and cracks down on it as much as possible. Zack and Sephiroth are not permitted to eat together. EVER. Anyone who spots them chowing down together is to immediately report it.

No one actually follows this rule though. And Zack and Sephiroth find as many ways to get around it as possible.

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #sephcanons #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #zack fair #sephzack #hojo #professor hojo

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harmless-variety-of-garden-snake · 2 months ago

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Day Twenty-Six?? Is already here?? Picnic Date time! Part of this has the cheesiest (positive) thing I've ever written, but I was encouraged to keep it in. So now you have to endure it, too. You can read this on AO3 over here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

When Evan knocks on his door, Tommy gives himself a second before he answers. He doesn’t want it to be totally obvious that he’s been hovering by the door ever since his boyfriend texted him that he was on his way.

He opens the door, and Evan’s already smiling, and Tommy feels like his heart is caught in a constant loop of melting and exploding. He tugs him in with a kiss and a soft greeting, and Evan holds on tight and returns the kiss. They haven’t seen each other in two weeks, because they only had a few hours here and there where their shifts weren’t overlapping. Those hours had mostly been in the middle of the night when they were both sleeping or close to it, so the most off-shift time they’d been able to get was over half-asleep FaceTimes.

“I missed you,” Evan says into his neck when he hugs Tommy.

Tommy skims his hands over Evan’s back and inhales the smell of him. “I missed you, too.”

They stand there for a long moment before Evan takes a half-step back, his hand sliding down to grasp Tommy’s.

“You want to skip lunch?” Tommy asks, and Evan shakes his head. “You sure?”

“You said you had a surprise,” Evan reminds him with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Surprise me, big guy.”

They can’t get sidetracked, there are temperature-sensitive things in the literal picnic basket on his coffee table. He deserves another medal around his neck for resisting grabbing Evan and pulling him into the bedroom. Tommy does spread his hand over Evan’s lower back and flick his eyes down to his lips, enjoying the way Evan’s eyes dilate when he meets his eyes again.

“Stay here,” Tommy says, leaving a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth and going to the living room so he can grab the basket, blanket, and small cooler that he’s able to loop over his arm. When he comes back, Evan looks surprised and then happy. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Evan agrees, taking the cooler from his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t peek.”

They start walking out, and Evan heads toward Tommy’s truck.

“No, we’re staying local,” Tommy says, nodding toward the left. “C’mon.”

They walk the few blocks it takes to get to the park by his house. Tommy had taken the kids to it once recently, but Evan had been home sick with a nasty cold while Tommy babysat. He’s pretty sure that unless he took a roundabout way to get to Tommy’s, Evan’s probably never noticed it before.

“Aw, this is cute,” Evan says as they approach. It really is. There's a couple of families clustered with kids who are climbing on a playground, several dogs are being walked, and there's a guy walking near some trees with a pair of binoculars.

“Table or grass?” Tommy asks, nodding toward the picnic tables.

“I mean, you grabbed the blanket,” Evan points out. “Let's use it.”

They settle under a lone tree so as not to interfere with the birdwatcher. Evan's been threatening to get into birdwatching again, which had been a nice excuse to go on walks with him and eat trail mix, but every photo that was texted to him for a month had been a new bird. It had taken Tommy a while to get over the disappointment of seeing the word “tits” in a text preview only to get a picture of a couple of gray-brown birds instead of his boyfriend's chest. Evan had made up for it with a series of pictures, at least.

The food is pretty typical picnic food: sandwiches, fruit, chips, dip, cookies, chicken salad, pasta salad, potato salad, and beer. Evan makes appreciative noises and moans, because Tommy told him to shift his cheat day back one day so he could eat everything on offer.

“God, you have the best ideas,” Evan says around a mouthful of potato salad. “Also, why haven't we gone to this park? We always run the other way.”

“Because then I wouldn't be able to check on the cats,” Tommy points out. He runs past a food and water station he and a neighbor set up for the feral cats in the neighborhood, because Tommy isn't home enough to have it outside his own house. He also checks on as many cats as he can see, tries to spot new ones, texts his neighbor if she's not home so he can find out if she needs traps or anything for the new ones he does see, and talks to her about them if she is home. The house is two blocks over and a block down in the other direction from his house, so they always go that way instead.

“It's cute,” Evan says, wiping his face with a napkin and settling back on the blanket with a happy squint up into the tree where a squirrel seems to be hopping around. “I wish I had a good park near my place.”

The opening is gift-wrapped. Tommy opens his mouth, but then he freezes. He shovels two cookies in his mouth instead.

It's when the food is gone and they're laying on the blanket and watching a very large dog and a very small dog get walked together that Tommy rolls onto his side and reaches out to rest his hand on Evan's belly.

“Hm?” Evan hums, looking over at him with a smile on his face. It hasn't left since they arrived. Everything about him makes Tommy ache, it has since that first night he kissed him, and it’s only gotten worse since they got back together. It used to scare him to death. It still scares him, but he’s gotten better about pushing it aside.

Evan Buckley has all the power in the world to destroy his heart, but Tommy knows now that it's not in him to do that.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks. “And it's probably going to be ironic, coming from me. So feel free to get a little angry. You earned it.”

“What?” Evan says, his face starting to pinch a little in confusion, but he's still smiling as he sits up. “What's up?”

“Do you want to move in with me?” Tommy asks, feeling like the words are being ripped out of him because this could fuck everything up.

But Evan's reaching for him, his eyes filling with tears, and he chokes out a shocked laugh. “What? Are you—really? You mean it?”

Tommy sits up, too, his heart pounding in his chest as he nods. “I know we've only been back together for—well, just over six months. But I—”

He's cut off by Evan kissing him, and Tommy is kissing him back, but it's difficult because Evan is smiling so much.

“God, yeah,” Evan whispers, and Tommy's face finally unfreezes into an answering grin as Evan nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” he confirms, and they laugh at the absurdity after Evan’s just said it twice. “You started talking about your lease renewal and I didn't want to wait another year to ask. You were right before. I know I don't say it enough, but you were right.”

“Why be apart when we could be together?”

Evan was smart. So much smarter than Tommy. He hadn't been great at articulating it at the time, leaving out half the reasons he wanted them to live together, but they've talked it out since January. And Tommy's never been able to deny that Evan was right.

Everything about them works. It all fits together, molds around each other, fills in the cracks in the other person. And it's like a klaxon has been going off in Tommy's head every time one of them has to leave the other's place or if they're stuck talking on the phone when they're both off and on their respective beds because they're too tired to drive or the other one has a shift that starts in just a few hours.

Keep him by you, keep him with you, what are you doing, Kinard? You're wasting time, he's right there, he's your other half and he's right there.

His boyfriend presses their foreheads together as they tangle together as much as is acceptable for a public park near where they'll be living.

“I would've moved in by February,” Evan admits. “Maybe earlier. Like the day we got back together. I didn't want to scare you.”

“You still scare me,” Tommy confesses. “But I know I can trust you.”

Evan nuzzles their noses together and smiles. “Yeah. I—you know that poem?”

Tommy huffs out a laugh. “Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

“‘I carry your heart in my heart’ or something.”

That—Evan can't know. Tommy's never told anyone. Once again, Evan’s stumbled his way into a direct path to Tommy’s heart.

“It's cummings,” he says, swallowing around a sharp lump in his throat. “My mom used to read it to me. When she got sick.”

Evan’s fingers tighten on his arms, and he draws back, concern etched in his face. “I—”

“‘Here is the deepest secret nobody knows,’” Tommy quotes softly, his mind going to the last part even though he knows the whole thing. “‘Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide. And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart. I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.’”

There’s a bubble of silence that follows, and then Evan cradles his face in his hands and leans in to press a soft, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth and then another on Tommy’s lips.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “That. That’s—yeah.”

Tommy hugs him close, and Evan buries his face in Tommy’s neck. He imagines he can feel Evan’s heart against his own, that they have to be beating in sync with one another. If he closes his eyes, he can see their hearts fitting together, beating in sync and cradled together in each of their chests. He might paint it, as grotesque as two actual human hearts pressed together would be. It doesn’t have to be displayed, it can just be for him to show Evan so he can say: “See? This is us, this is for us, this is us.”

He tips his face down to hide it in Evan’s shoulder, and he feels Evan’s breath puffing against the side of his jaw.

“Right here,” Evan says, his hand slipping between them to curl against Tommy’s chest, right over his heart. “I’m right here.”

Tommy nods and lets out a shaking breath. “I know.”

“And you’re right here.” Evan turns his hand to press against his own heart, and Tommy covers it with his hand and gives him a teary smile as he nods again. “Forever. Us living together is just the next natural step toward that. We do this, m-maybe we get married—if you want.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, his voice coming out hoarse. “I want that.”

I’d marry you tomorrow.

Tommy knows he might have to wait a little longer than that. But he knows it’ll happen. He knows it’ll happen, and he knows that if he’s brave enough, he might put this moment in his vows. He knows that Evan will make him brave, that it’ll be nothing at all to hold his hands in front of their family and tell him and everyone else that on a picnic blanket in a park next to their house, Tommy knew that he would marry Evan Buckley.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fluffebruary #my fic

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