#also i posted this bc. cold. joint pain

[moldsporr]

Thinking about how Yomi has a cane and I think he's just like me fr

Meaning he gets joint pain when it's colder than 60° F and can barely walk, AND he's got that trans guy swag where his periods are so painful he can't move

[moonshynecybin]

[regarding my latest Rosquez and because the idea came when I saw your tags on that text post] Austria 2023 (10th GP of the season, first Sunday race Marc finished last year), Marc going to Vale on Sunday night and asking him for something to smoke (“Oh, come on, don’t make this face, you’re Valentino Rossi, of course you can get whatever you want wherever we are in the World”)

Anyway, they end up sitting next to each other, passing the blunt back and forth in silence until Marc says “Everyone’s making a huge deal of the fact I finally finished a race on a Sunday but the only reason I finished is because I didn’t push. Not pushing put me P12. I don’t race to finish 12th.”

Valentino also asks him if he’s started thinking about his options and Marc chuckles, asks him “Why? You’re offering me a job?” and Valentino laughs, half-evades the question with something like “You deserve a good bike, everybody deserves to see you at your best”.

If Marc gets cold, I think there is a chance that Valentino wraps his arm around his back.

Marc does not let his head fall againt Valentino’s shoulder.

marc genuinely not knowing where to get weed and going to valentino is so funny… save me dirtbag… save meeee

i think marc going to vale is also insane in this context bc marc was crashing alllll the fucking time then like notably more than usual not even finishing races just a miserable time. and then he goes FINE i will have to be content with mediocrity bc constantly crashing like that isn’t sustainable, but he’s also probably so MAD and frustrated about it bc he’s never been content with mediocrity in his life!!! so like. marc is most likely in an insane headspace here wrt his overly competitive little brain. truly i think the way he sees it, his two options are both intolerable: injury or mediocrity. because winning is not an option. hell world. leaving for gresini but not quite ready to let go world.

so he’s like. keyed up here. anxious and trapped results-wise in a situation that is just as painful as his arm injury but for entirely different reasons. and going to vale about it is insane bc divorce but! i could see him being desperate and not being popular or comfy enough in the paddock to know literally anyone else with drugs (and anyone else that he is a. in love with and b. able to relate to about specific ass sporting woes. literally you can’t fix this one with a surgeon buddy you need the DOCTOR.) so he reaches out again like he so often does…

HOWEVER !! i think this situation is also fucking BANANAS from vale’s emotional standpoint. like even outside of being his nemesis’s weed supplier (truly i think some part of him is like GOD okay needs to chill out so fine i’ll give him some pot. like perhaps no one else on earth has needed a hit more), it’s crazy in the context of vale’s myriad theoretical complexes about marc’s riding style. like. insane for him.

so it’s going fine until marc brings it up to him maybe after a few puffs. they’re like loose with weed and giggly (and a little unconsciously handsy. somehow marc’s head IS on vale’s shoulder but that’s just bc it’s cold and he fits there. and weed. no other reason dwai.) and!! maybe vale is relaxing into it. letting marc lean back against him and remembering how uncomplicated this can be. thinking about marc’s pink cheeks that first time he took a hit off of vale’s joint back in 2014, and how he’d teased vale for thinking he would cough. but marc shifts a bit, chewing on his cheek, clearly working through some residual stress. and he brings it all up bc he needs advice about his dogshit situation and vale is literally the only yardstick he will EVER measure himself with, but vale reads it as him almost like. asking vale for absolution concerning his riding habits and the risks he takes. which is something vale at this point can under no circumstances give him. because he’s stillllllll terrified he’s going to lose marc. so he pulls away and marc’s side is suddenly cold and it implodes from there…

[stormyweaver]

First Time For Everything || Part 1/??)

Alright, so never let it be said I'm not a hypocrite. I'm a huge one. But this has been sitting in my drafts for over two months and I need to post it since it's not going anywhere else lmao. PLUS I'm still reeling from my gnawing obsession with V/ox resurfacing after... y'know idk exactly what triggered it but it happened regardless.

Anyway I'm proud of my dialogue for this one bc that's always something I struggle with when writing, so yeah! Plus the idea of V/ox's first cold in Hell has always just been rattling around in my head. Also it's short, but sweet. So yeah! Enjoy!

Summary: V/ox finds out there are worse things than just being in Hell; like being sick in Hell. Alas/tor has a laugh at his expense every step of the way. ~~~

It had started as nothing but a minor annoyance. A dryness of the throat, which was typical for an early morning in Hell. Moisture wasn’t really a thing, even if you considered the fucking acid rain. Which Vox didn’t; that shit was genuinely the worst. But he’d at least had access to clean(ish) water, and cleared his throat a couple of times… the sensation still lingered. Well, it wasn’t anything for him to be overly concerned with. Besides, he had a meeting this morning with Alastor where they were going to discuss more hot-topic talking points for his radio show. 

The cloying, scratchy feeling in his throat still hadn’t gone away, even though it had been at least a couple hours since he first woke up. He made himself breakfast, something simple - eggs and toast, which… the fact that he was even able to scrounge up the materials to have a decent meal still startled him. It was Hell after all - everything was still jarring. 

He barely managed to choke down the slightly burnt edges of bread and too runny eggs (jeez, the food didn’t usually taste five star, but today was bad) before getting washed and dressed. The turtleneck he normally wore felt scratchier than normal, and he tugged at the collar in irritation. Even his antenna weren’t properly fitting into his hat… Gah - today had barely started and it was already a wash.

Well, he could at least look forward to seeing Alastor. Despite how every denizen in Hell he’d met so far had told him to steer clear of The Radio Demon, Vox hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to him yet. Not once. Even when he’d suggested the damn hat giving him so much trouble now - silly, ridiculous even he’d thought when he first put it on. But one look at Alastor’s approving grin had dashed his worries easily. He’d do just about anything to have that look directed towards him again… Oof, was the heater on the fritz again? It was suddenly so warm.

Sniffing idly, Vox descended the steps of his apartment and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Ugh, it was warm out here too. Well… that wasn’t so much surprising as it was an inconvenience. Hell always seemed to be too warm, but today the pentagram striped sun seemed to beat down on his head with a particularly harsh intensity.

He rolled his neck with a soft grunt, fingers gripping the taught muscle with a grimace. You’d think after however many years (1, 3, more?) of living with a fucking television set for a cranium he’d have gotten used to the aches and pains that came along with it. Vox once again had to remind himself that it was Hell - there were worse things than stiff joints.

“Quite the lovely day we have upon us, isn’t it?”

“JESUS SHIT–!” Vox staggered to the side, his screen glitching slightly from the shock of Alastor’s voice directly beside him. “Wh– You have got to stop doing that, Al! One day I’m gonna get a fucking heart attack.”

Alastor’s grin seemed to widen, eerily. “Oh, I would highly advise against that, old pal! We’re dreadfully short on paramedics here in Pentagram City.” His shoulders shook lightly, obviously amused at his own joke. Vox simple deadpanned, though he fought against his mouth instinct to inch upwards at the corners. Despite being fucking sadistic, Alastor could also be pretty funny - when he wasn’t unsettling or downright terrifying. 

“Anyhow~! You look a bit… disheveled this morning!” Vox tilted his head; he’d said it as if it were the most delightful observation he’d made in ages, “Sleep on the wrong side of the bed, hm?”

“No? I… Well, I looked fine in the mirror.” He argued, smoothing down his shirt a bit self-consciously. Alastor hummed thoughtfully, reached a hand out to gently tug on the tag sticking out of Vox’s inside-out jacket. “I suppose that’s the cons of not having eyes in the back of one’s head, haha!” 

Vox snorted as he began to shrug out of the denim. “Right, like you do?...” He trailed off, giving Alastor a once over. “You- you don’t, right?” 

“Oh, heavens no! But I do have my ways of seeing things others might easily miss.” His ears twitched slightly when Vox sniffed, and his head craned to one side unnaturally. Curious. 

Vox had barely gotten his jacket smoothed out, gaze flicking back to Alastor - only to find the other’s face mere inches from his own. He flinched, feeling heat creep up along his neck as he rose a brow, tentatively inching back. “Is… something else wrong?”

After far too long of a beat, the pinstriped demon snapped back into his place on the sidewalk, giving another curious hum. “Nothing at all, dear. Now! Enough dawdling - shall we get a move on? Rolling stones and such!” Without waiting for an answer, Alastor began walking down the pavement, and Vox blinked before following after him.

'He’s being extra weird today. Wonder why?' Although Vox had long since given up on making sense of Alastor’s every behavior. He’d go absolutely insane to even try. The guy… sinner… demon was nothing short of a fucking enigma, someone most insisted was to be feared and meant to stay FAR FUCKING AWAY from. Maybe Vox was foolish to still consider him good company, but it wasn’t as though he had other sinners breaking down his door to befriend him, let alone ones he actually found himself sharing common interests with. 

Plus… the guy was charming, when he wasn’t being wholly off-putting. And even then, Vox didn’t really mind that side of him. He was just quirky. 

As they walked and made conversation, Vox found his throat going from scratchy to genuinely sore and aching. He was clearing it more often, and trying not to be off-put by the odd, static distorted quality it would get every now and again. Alastor for his part seemed to be indifferent - thank goodness - but Vox felt a small mound of worry forming in his gut. Not for his throat, but something else was… well, no other way to describe it but itching in the back of his head. Like a clothes tag itching at the back of your neck, except it was directly behind his eyes, insistent and growing steadily as they walked.

Eventually, Vox’s steps slowed, and he began to blink rapidly. 

Alastor matched his pace until they were both standing still, the radio demon looking both curious and… oddly expectant. 

Vox gave his head a trembling shake, the feeling seeming to pulse before climbing higher.

“Hahh…?” The inhale swept through his lungs, causing them to seize up as his chest rose and fell unsteadily. His screen flickered as he continued to pant unevenly, a hand raising to mid-chest. Wait, this was all oddly familiar: the gasping, the build up, this itch... was he going to…? He hadn’t even noticed Alastor taking a precautionary step back before–

“heh’AAKKTTSCHHUE!!”

His head snapped forward, and Vox barely - just barely stopped the rest of his body from joining it in tumbling down. The raised hand held onto the top of his head in an attempt at steadying it, and he managed to right himself with a huge gasp. 

“Fucking shit–!!” He exclaimed, chest muscles heaving from the absolute workout straightening back up. He blinked again, before wincing and gripping the side of his head with a groan. “Fuck, fuck my head...” 

“Well, well!” Alastor tittered, clapping his hands together a few times, “Quite the performance, my good man! Quite the show!” Giddiness radiated from him, a stark contrast to the pained misery staining Vox’s features. 

“Nghh… did I just… sneeze?” It felt far more arduous than Vox recalled it *ever* being when he was alive. Then again, he’d never had to sneeze while trying to keep himself from falling on his ass. This really was Hell, wasn’t it?

“That’s the the term most would use, yes! Not quite used to it with your new hardware, eh?” Vox winced at the tap of Alastor’s staff against his head. 

“No, I’m not. Fuck, that was awful… snf!” He raised a finger to scrub against the middle of his face, and Alastor laughed gleefully when his companion realized he didn’t have a nose to actually rub. “... you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, most assuredly, my dear!” His smile didn’t falter once when Vox began to pout, “Now don’t give me that look, it’s all in good fun!” 

Despite his insistence, Vox rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what’s so ‘fun’ about feeling like absolute shit.” Maybe if it was some other sucker sure, but it wasn’t.

“So you are feeling unwell!” Alastor interrupted his thoughts, then clasped his hands together in delight, “Oh, I’d hoped that was the case!” 

“Wait, what?”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. He stepped closer to Vox, lifting the bottom of his head with his staff. “Tell me, dear - does your throat ache? Do you feel a bit warmer than usual? Perhaps a little… fuzzy in the head?” 

Vox made a slight face. “How… did you know all of that?” He hated when Alastor would do this - toy with him instead of just getting right to the point. He was already feeling like garbage, what was the point of making him think when– wait…

“Ah, the cogs seeme to be turning now, yes?” Alastor’s grin was almost too eager. Vox shuffled back a bit, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to process the conclusion he’d come to. 

“Wait, I… I can get sick? In Hell? That’s a thing?!” 

“Oh, you just make this better and better, truly!” Alastor grinned gleefully, completely ignoring the panic radiating off of Vox. “But yes, you can fall ill in Hell, of all places. I assumed you knew that–”

“HOW would I have ever known that? it’s fucking news to me!”

“Well obviously,” The way Alastor rolled his eyes was enough to potentially give Vox an ulcer. Was he capable of having those, too? Why didn’t he put the pieces of still being biologically able to fall ill together sooner?! Or better yet - why hadn’t Alastor told him, since he seemed to be so fucking knowledgeable on the subject! However it seemed that his flaring irritation would have to take a momentary backseat - that awful sensation was back, almost worse than before, and a shudder rippled along Vox’s spine before it grew uncomfortably stiff. “Hahh… hhh…?” His screen flickered with static as his breathing continued to waver, a hand rising in more impulse than actual desire to cover his mouth. Even through his fluttering lids, he could feel Alastor watching him, eager and yet patient. As if this entire situation wasn’t confounding enough, embarrassing enough, the person he least wanted to be present now had a front row seat. Take a picture, it’ll last longer nestled just on the tip of his tongue, but another sharp inhale reminded him that talking likely wasn’t the smartest option. Not while his head still felt like it was full of fuzzy, restless static–

“ehh-hahH! EA’KTTSCHHHUE!” 

Though not as large as his initial sneeze, it still sent him staggering forward harshly. His screen was almost parallel with his hips in the process, and when he righted, it felt as if rising from being submerged in water for too long. His head, his neck, his core - everything ached, all from a sneeze. He didn’t bother masking a groan. 

“Fuck…” Although his discomfort might as well have meant jack-shit when countered with Alastor’s reaction. The bastard was laughing, as if seeing Vox nearly topple over from a sneeze was just about the funniest damned thing he’d seen in decades. Vox’s temple throbbed painfully as he glared at the Radio Demon, who was dabbing at the edges of his eyes with one corner of a handkerchief. 

“Oh goodness me - you certainly don’t do anything by halves, do you?” 

“You act like I did that on purpose.” Vox countered with a roll of his eyes, sniffling which… if he didn’t have a nose or sinuses, shouldn’t have been an action he could carry out. But there were multiple facets of Hell that technically didn’t make sense. Apparently this was just one among the hundreds of others. 

Alastor didn’t offer much in the way of a response. If anything, he was eerily silent, but his gaze penetrated Vox straight through to his damned soul. Vox felt warmth creep up along his neck. 

“If you’re waiting for it to happen again, you’re shit outta luck.”

Though he said it with confidence, he was internally dreading the moment another sneeze would grab hold of him. Alastor simply shrugged, but his gaze still held that air of anticipation. 

“Suit yourself. It’s certainly no skin off my nose.” His smile widened a fraction when Vox growled under his breath. 

Cyan-tipped fingers scrubbed along the surface of his screen, a bit harsher than was necessary. The irritation wasn’t as strong as before, but it lingered just out of his reach; strong enough to make it’s presence known, but not enough to trigger another sneeze. 

By the time he’d grown tired of uselessly assaulting his own face, Alastor was already a good couple of steps ahead of him. Apparently he’d grown tired of waiting for the ‘show’ to continue.

Shoulders sagging with another liquid-tinged sniffle, Vox reluctantly broke into a jog in order to catch up with him. 

Yeah. Today was definitely going to be… entertaining. 

[silvaurum]

this is just an observation but. this is my third surgery in life and i keep thinking that the post-op pain and fatigue are not really that different from day-to-day illness and injury. like. this isn't a fully developed theory post but. the cold i had two weeks ago made me more sore than i am now.

and part of that is that i have a drs orders pain regiment that i'm careful to stay on top of, but like. you know what i mean? like when i had my wisdom teeth out, i also had my period, and i was way more impressed that the pain management made my cramps go away. like the jaw pain was less severe than my normal cramps and easier to take care of with ice and meds, but also people took it more seriously.

the bad cold i had two weeks ago made every joint in my body ache and i slept through the whole weekend without getting out of bed except for food and toilet. that was worse than this, where i got my uterus tubes and both ovaries out uhh a little over 72 hours ago.

but when i say 'i had a bad cold' people don't have the same reaction as 'i had surgery' even though the two feel very similar physically to me right now.

isn't that weird? isn't it weird that… "normal" illness and injury are treated as nothing when they're so like major medical stuff that people do tend to take seriously. tend to bc obviously ableism is still. there. but. isn't it…

idk like i took a bunch of time off for surgery recovery (good!) but when i have a cold i'm like 'ah is it really that bad?' and… idk. maybe its a me thing, not taking 'common' 'regular' health stuff as serious because its routine. but then, very aware right now that my pain is like. literally the same. for 'common' cold and 'big' 'serious' stuff.

isn't it weird that institutions take one of those more seriously by law and then like, if you call out for a cold your manager can give you flack? when its the exact same pain but even more randomly striking? it's weird. i don't think my brain is at 100% yet but anyway

[candle-wax-and-polariods]

im seeubg discourse on gow taylor does eras so amazingly and heres my idea of how u think she does it, but i rlly wanna know her pre and post show care routine

•vocal rest day of shows

•staying hydrated even on days off

•balanced diet (everythings good in moderation)

•the treadmill and dance training stated in the time POTY article

•no alchol as mentioned in the time POTY article

•vocal workouts on days off

•a VERY good solid vocal warmup and cool down

•stamina matnince during long streaches without tour both physical and vocal

•sipping water backstage

•warm beverages if she is sick at all (cold water can trigger phlem witch makes you cough, dont ask science this is what my vocal teacher told me)

•taking cough, cold, and pain medicine when necessary

•bio freaze spray for muscle and joint pain (i say spray bc it’s easier in my oppion)

•keeping up with freinds and family to keep herself mentally healthy and balanced instead of only being work work work work work 24/7

•taking a day for recovery as mentioned in the time article

•not over working herself during the week

•electrolytes to help her get more hydration with less water intake

•staying away from dairy on show days

•knowing what does and dosent work on tour days

•she has accsess to the best vocal coaches, Physical therapists, ent’s, nutritionists, and PCP’s and she is most likely utilizing that privilege

•if you look at the spacing of each chero intence moment or era its before and affter a less intese one ex: speak now isnt as chero hevey as red is, she does 22 IKYWT and WANEGBT then follows it with all to well ten witch is less physically intense so she has an easier time breathing bc theres less physical activity

•as someone who has done competitive sports before while ive never done a stadium show before the most ive done is 4,000 ppl at a competition adrenaline is probably helping push through any pain she may have. ive preformed on a back injury (stupid af i know) a hamstring injury and concussions because of adrenaline.

•she may have pre show supperstissions that regradless of it they help physically or not they may help her feel more confident mentally ready to preform in front of 70,000 ppl. ex: when i would do makeup for competitions i would use 2 blushes and the beat the shit out of my cheak before blending my blush.

ive geard ppl say iv hydration but if you look at this photo(bellow) theres no marks to be found vetoing the idea that shes using iv bc youd see the mark, ive heard also b12 shots but i personally dont beleive she does it but she may and im not fully opposed to the idea that she does get them.

@taylorswift @taylornation

[geraskier]

hi newt :3 hope you're having an okay day today. i know you post about having joint pain in ur hands and i was curious what helps you alleviate it? my partner has what we think is early onset arthritis and we're trying to find some stuff that might help him <3

disclaimers: i don't have (diagnosed) arthritis in my hands (yet), and i am not a medical professional, and all of what i say should be taken with a grain of salt. effectiveness of different suggestions is also gonna vary based on the exact cause of your partner's arthritis (past traumatic/repetitive stress injury, inflammatory disease, etc.)

anyway!

somewhere in my room is a tube of extra strength aspercreme that i bought on sale, i found that to be super helpful. there's other nsaid based creams that you apply topically; they kick in faster than you would think which is neat. be careful with dosing on that tho, especially if your partner is simultaneously taking nsaids orally (e.g. advil).

i'm sure some people would recommend icing the areas in pain, but that's not practical for hands ime. do they make cold packs in the shape of a glove?

weed is good for pain, but it is a psychoactive controlled substance, so it's not gonna be viable for everybody.

if your partner can figure out a gentle regime of hand stretches, that might alleviate some pain in the long run by strengthening hand muscles. i was *supposed* to do this after my sagittal band repair surgery, but i fell off the wagon pretty quick.

ooh! one thing the OT people did for me during that surgery recovery was gently massage warmed lotion into my hand. super relaxing on multiple fronts.

it's possible wrist or hand braces might help, but wearing them long term could weaken hand muscles that aren't being used. (in this case PT exercises would be an even better idea.) personally i've accepted that compromise, bc without having the wrist braces on 80% of the time i'm conscious, i can barely use my hands.

[thunderbottle]

Thunder's DSMP Disability Headcanons

disclaimer!!! i am sticking to physical disabilities bc honestly delving into the complexity of mental stuff is stressful and physical disabilities easier to apply to characters that like,, already exist yknow

Tubbo

Oh you KNOW this boy has messed up hearing. In my head his right ear is worse (as in he can barely hear anything with it) from the festival execution bc he turned his head away from the fireworks. The various l'manberg explosions also contributed.

I subscribe to the headcanon that being around schlatt sorta 'infected' tubbo with goat traits so bam i'm giving him joint problems in his legs from them changing so fast to be more goat-like. It makes him a bit slower than before and the snowchester cold makes them achey.

Jack

Chronic pain both before and after revival. It's different after he comes back to life, though. It's not any worse or better, just... different. It bothers him more than he lets on. He can't even find comfort in the familiar pain. sadge.

Tommy

same deal as tubbo with being a bit HOH. the repeated explosions during exile would not have treated him kindly.

also related to exile: on the way to techno's house and living in a hole in the middle of the tundra, i feel like he's missing a few fingers and one of his feet from frostbite (y'know how he lost a shoe? yeah.) He makes his own prosthetic while staying with techno but doesn't use it all the time bc it's painful. he's got a fancy crutch that sam made for him which is a lot more comfortable most of the time.

another exile one bc i feel like that whole experience (being hurt often, no real access to first aide, lack of a steady food source, etc etc) would be Not Great for a person's health. Dream dislocated one of his shoulders 'on accident' and it hasn't quite healed correctly, often re-dislocating when he's carrying heavy things or stretching it the wrong way.

Ranboo

my ranboo design has wacky kangaroo rat legs that aren't super suited to,, working correctly so he wears braces on the ankles and knees to keep them bending correctly. he also uses those coon forearm crutches like in that one fanart i did of him forever ago.

okay this isn't a hc but can i just say i'm so happy that c!ranboo is like,, canonically disabled. like ik it's bc he's enderboy but Still i love it sm. thank you mr. beloved

Awesamdude

he was born partially blind and relies a lot on sound. his redstone machine have a lot of essential parts that intentionally make extra noise so he knows they're working correctly and with the right timing.

he wears the gasmask half as a fashion statement and half bc he's got asthma and the redstone dust that typically doesn't bother other people can be dangerous to work with for him and trigger asthma attacks, especially at the quantities he works with.

Philza

caneza!!! he has trouble keeping his balance with his wings out of commission so he weathers the increased old-man-shaming in favor of being able to walk lmao

Wilbur

making this one short bc thinking abt c!wilbur makes me sad

chronic fatigue syndrome!! get some rest tall child!! like i know it doesn't really help but still!!! *wraps alivebur up in blankets like a feral, injured cat* i care you!!!!

Eret

okay i know that the herobrine eyes are bc she's related to herobrine somehow but i'm making her blind anyways. herobrine is blind too. you can't stop me.

guide ferrets... (context: eret's chat is a hoard of ferrets that follows him around it's very good)

he makes all his own buildings so that he has the floorplan memorized before even moving in. how do they turn out so pretty when he can't see them? well, he's more powerful than you could ever know and can do anything he puts his mind to so jot that down

Techno

this pig has ARTHRITIS

technocane!!!!! i love him

If you want me to expand on any of these send me an ask or in the reblogs of this post! Feel free to add on your own hcs within the wheelhouse I'd love to hear them <3

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

 character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: a lil bit angsty 

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood 

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - - 

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought. 

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back. 

jealousy panged in his chest. 

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to. 

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there. 

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter? 

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help. 

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first. 

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it. 

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something? 

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time. 

- 

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one. 

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet. 

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp. 

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child. 

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it. 

perhaps you were being cocky. 

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him. 

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted. 

it was interesting for another reason. 

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest. 

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown. 

“don’t get distracted.” 

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down. 

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight. 

he panted atop you, hands tightening. 

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima. 

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in. 

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets. 

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed. 

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck. 

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?” 

“you heard me.” 

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more. 

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood. 

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.” 

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?” 

“you’re strong, damn idiot.” 

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.” 

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight. 

- 

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway. 

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered. 

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him. 

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?” 

“you’re creepy as shit.” 

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-” 

“while you peeped in on y/n?” 

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.” 

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man. 

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.” 

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.” 

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.” 

“fine?” 

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?” 

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped. 

“you train with me.” 

“it’s an hour before curfew.” 

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked. 

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle. 

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass. 

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays. 

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend. 

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff. 

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one. 

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly. 

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched. 

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission. 

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack. 

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side. 

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars. 

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright. 

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?” 

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.” 

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help. 

“we should head back before this gets any worse.” 

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.  

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out. 

- 

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself. 

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt. 

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat. 

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?” 

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.” 

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you. 

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed. 

“dude, i’m really sorry—” 

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.” 

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.” 

“your nose is broken,” you said gently. 

“so? can’t you fix it?” 

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?” 

“can you or can you not?” 

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―” 

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.” 

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm. 

- 

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though. 

[centralsaints]

mcl headcanon masterpost pt.1 - armin

let's start this off with my long term favourites; the twins. this is armin's part, and alexy is next!

will start this with his full name being armin frederic lemaire

if you name a joint, he has probably dislocated it at least once in his life. he’s always been hypermobile, having chronic pain (mistaken as growing pains) and fatigue, being prone to dislocation. that later becomes a diagnosis of hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome.

that makes him also prone to getting migraines and headaches regularly, explaining the whole hating bright lights thing

he has had an eating disorder on and off since he was about 15; partly diagnosed, he meets the criteria for OSFED, so his ed is a bit. weird and all over the place. it’s mostly periods of restriction with a fear/disgust of food, followed by periods of binging and eating more or less normally. he’s closer to atypical bulimia, in terms of specifics, because the binge/purge episodes aren’t that frequent. he went inpatient once, and still jokes about how he was the only guy there. only his family knows about his eating issues as of now.

another thing about the ed is that it was already kind of in the making when alexy had his unaliving attempt, but that was really what kickstarted it all.

around UL, with nathaniel going absolutely off the fucking rails, armin and amber struck an odd friendship. they both could clock the other on their fucked up eating issues, but neither said anything for a long time, until amber did. they agreed to try and recover together.

his favourite pokemon type is ghost (thank you anon, idk anything about pokemon but i wanted to include this)

he plays animal crossing with kentin (who doesn’t like admitting that he plays it because it’s very relaxing for him) and jade.

he’s a gemini sun, cancer rising, libra moon, same as alexy.

he has add (adhd inattentive type) and his most common stims are bouncing his leg and chewing his pens. his object permanence is also absolute shit, if its out of sight, it doesn’t exist.

he doesn’t untie his shoes when taking them off or putting them on, and has ruined many perfectly good pairs of shoes that way.

he has made tik toks starring rocket the ferret

his playlists are lo-fi music, video games and movie soundtracks, and like. twenty one pilot.

his nose is crooked from when he broke it around 11 years old

he also bruises really easily (mostly due to his EDS) and his legs are always covered in various bruises. he’s also very clumsy, which doesn’t help

he doesn’t like alcohol; he doesn’t like the taste, the way it makes him feel and the aftermath; it doesn’t take much to affect him and he’ll sleep for an entire day. but he’ll sometimes drink in social situation just to not feel left out.

he’s bisexual. the less obvious stuff; what’s his type?? I know having a “type” isn't really a thing and u like who u like. with that said i think hed like slightly androgynous looking girls (soft spot for shaved heads. its soft;;), girls who are very very feminine but in an out of the ordinary way (think lolita, hyper pop fem vibe, goth girls in corsets, etc), guys who work out (he has a weakness for back muscles), in general people who stand out in a crowd be it with their appearance, style or their attitude

no i still have absolutely no idea how he would come out. i think he probably didn’t. he just started talking about it naturally, because it wasn’t a big deal. i think one day, either his mom or alexy made jokes about oh, when would he finally take this one cute girl on a date, and he just said, or maybe it’ll be a boy. it just happened like that

ref post for his fashion sense

he can do a killer winged liner. look, man’s into cosplay, of course he can.

he’s played mystic messenger ironically at first and then ended up actually liking it

he actually can draw, because he spent all middle school drawing anime characters in all his notebooks

he always sits kind of awkwardly (proof is the episode 12 illustration lmao) because 1. bi people can’t sit right (source: me) and 2. he’s just. really lanky and has long limbs and doesn’t really know what to do with all of it

this one is from an anon last year: “I have this weird hc about the twins. Alexy sleeps with like a million pillows and blankets , while Armin tries to sleep with pillows but throws it out every time even though he's asleep.” and i love it. he also probably sleep in very weird positions which leads to him waking up hurting a lot of the time

he also has a weighted blanket that he and alexy kind of just. get turns using when they both still live at their parents house. it helps armin’s pain, and alexy’s overstimulation issues. when they leave, armin gets the weighted blanket

armin has a dimple on his right cheek when he smiles

he helped alexy dye his hair until they moved out and started living separately

he has his driving license, but alexy doesn’t

he’s scared of dogs (he probably met demon at one point bc i like him and cas being friends, and he was so nervous about it, poor boy

he likes taking ice cold shower in the evening because the cold water and then sinking in a warm bed make him sleepy and actually helps him fall asleep

he probably played dnd at one point

he smokes ouid occasionally, at first it was recreational, but it kind of helped with his joint pain so

i think this is all of them? i might be missing a few ones i never wrote out or that are buried in my files but i honestly don't feel like going through the dozen unfinished fics and compilation documents that mention armin in my drive or i would still be here next year

[crybabykiko]

Brainrot Kinktober 10/27

the best medicine

Squirting: Sugawara Koushi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Skdkfkf a lot- angst if you squint, post breakup rebound sex kinda, recreational drug use bc it’s me who wrote this and every day is 4/20, sex under the influence so if you count that as dubcon oops, fingering, I wrote this for myself tbh so if you hate it oops, oral sex (f. receiving), Suga is a gemini, he is a menace, uhhh and yeah- squirting... I’m sorry I’m horrible at tags. It’s smut.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/n: yes you get this a day early bc my anniversary is tomorrow and bc @super-noya is taking a break. Be grateful... also I didn’t expect to make it this far into ktober without a train wreck so this is a good feeling. ☺️ enjoy yet another self indulgent piece.

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

The best way to get over someone is by getting under someone else. But that’s not why you texted Suga to come over. He was going to help you numb the pain of your breakup in a different way- the both of you getting insanely high. That was your ritual. Whenever one of you got dumped, the other would bring their stash, and you’d drown your sorrows in several bowls. After all, no one likes being high alone, and what else are best friends for? If anything, he’d be there to listen to you vent.

“I’m not going to say I told you so if you don’t,” he said as he walked through the door of your apartment. Before meeting up with you, he had just gotten stood up for the third time by another girl he was seeing. Taking his shoes and jacket off, he handed you his stash box. You blew a raspberry at him, bounding toward your room. You’d already had the lights low, and your speaker blasting music for the optimal vibe- which just so happened to be “all men-and the girl that stood Suga up- are trash.”

You sat on your bed as he came in behind you, grabbing your bong from its place on your shelf and sitting on the other side of the bed. Slowly and meticulously you had started to grind a portion of the quarter he had bought over.

“So what even happened,” he sighed as he began to pre-roll a few joints for you both.

“You sure you want to know?” You gave him a raised eyebrow.

He winced, getting the hint.

“Okay, maybe I don’t,” he laughed.

You hadn’t been with your now ex long, but it was no secret to any of your friends that you weren’t very happy with him in regards to your sex life.

The first few billows of smoke filled your bedroom from your lips, ending in a cough as you passed your bong over to Suga.

“God I hate this thing,” he chuckled, sparking the glitter encrusted glass. He took a feel inhale, the sound of the bubbling popping in your ears.

“So ugly,” he blew out. A light cough escaped from his lungs as he examined your piece.

“Fuck off,” you laughed back, snatching it from his hands. “It was my birthday gift from Yachi, and I happen to love it- she decorated it all on her own.” As you rubbed the cold glass with pride, a plastic letter popped off, sending you both over a barrel with giggles as you tried to gain your composure for another hit.

You shifted yourself to a more comfortable position on your stomach as you changed the song on your phone to something more mellow, reaching down in front of you to grab your snack stash below you before finally fully settling in and taking a few more hits, letting the familiar feeling of fuzziness overtake your senses.

Once both of you were comfortably numb, you moved the box in between you two, scooting closer to Suga for warmth. He tossed the hem of his flannel over your feet, the soft fabric somehow feeling even softer as you fixated on the texture in your inebriated state.

“Was he really that bad?” He sighed, sitting up next to you and grabbing another handful of Cheeze-Itz. Your trance on the plaid pattern broke as you felt your stomach drop just a little thinking about your ex.

“I mean… I never…” you trailed off a bit, body pricking with an uncomfortable embarrassment that was definitely harshing your high.

“I never came once. Literally 3 months of my life, and I didn’t.”

“Yikes,” Suga breathed out. He didn’t know exactly what to say, the drugs in his system impairing his normal supportive demeanor. You could tell he felt bad for you, but at the same time, he wouldn’t remember any of this come tomorrow morning.

“Well you know, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else…” his voice wavered, taking a drag of a joint he had left sitting in your ashtray.

“You’re so gross,” you huffed, giggling at him. “That’s not true anyway!” You flopped backwards on your bed, laughs softening as your head hit your pillow- your foggy head resting mere inches from his as he shifted to accommodate your new position.

“It would be if you were under me.” Smoke plumed from his mouth in a few rings as he stretched to lean back into your mattress.

There was a still silence for a second, but it felt like hours. He looked over at you with low eyes through the LED tinted haze. As red and glassed over as they were, they were still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. He was too gone to notice you were staring back. Without warning, he sat up, hooking a leg around you and taking hold of your wrists, looking down at you with lustfully hooded eyes.

“What if,” he started, a lazy smile enveloping his face.

“What if I made you cum? Would you be over him?”

You were entirely too high to comprehend the question, let alone protest it- especially because it had been something you’d wanted for so long. It couldn’t be real, he was just off his ass… there was no way this was happening… right?

You simply nodded at him, mouth agape- giving him the go ahead. His grin widened, pleased to be given the chance.

“Let’s get those pretty eyes rolling, then,” he breathed, lips already moving against yours, trailing kisses down your neck and chest, slowly sliding your leggings down and away from your body. You arched your back into him, making haste to pull his shirt over his head and toss it somewhere in your bedroom. Suga pushed you back, a wash of confusion blanketing your face as he stood at the foot of your bed.

“This is about you right now,” he chuckled, kneeling down and grabbing your ankles. “If you’re not too fucked out afterwards, then maybe we’ll get to me.”

What a tease. But his words were velveteen against your ears as your core started to heat with desire of what it would possibly be like to be able to get to him.

His motions were fast but everything around you felt slow. Propping your legs up and apart, he gave one last glossy-eyed look at you. Your jaw was slacked with anticipation as he brought his fingers to your mouth. You coated them with your own spit, just enough to wet them a little, never once taking your eyes off of Suga. You traced his every move as he lined his slicked digits up at your poor, neglected slit, which was already soaked in anticipation of him. Slowly, he sunk in one finger, then another. You were already clenching your walls at the mere feeling of friction.

“Greedy are we?” He laughed, slowly adding in a third finger, filling you completely. Your long drawn out moan was response enough to him as he started to move, slowly curling them against you. You began to move as well, begging for more friction only to have your bottom half pinned into place by Suga’s free hand. The swimming feeling in your head made you feel even more sensitive to his touch, as jagged breaths left your lungs.

“Stop squirming, baby,” he cautioned. “I’ve got you- I promise.”

“Please, just… please don’t stop,” you said, barely above a whisper.

You were met with a jolt of wet heat as he attached his mouth to your core, fingers still slowly pumping as he wrapped his lips around your clit. Even in your fuzziness, your hands found his hair, grinding your hips against his mouth and face, trying so hard to get all of the friction you could as he fucked you on his lithe fingers. A string of curses left your lips as he removed his fingers from you and plunged his tongue inside, swirling it up and then around your clit again.

He detached from you, hooded eyes and a lazy smile spreading across his face as he watched you writhing under his touch. You whined in disapproval, only to be pulled down by your ankles and into his lap on the floor. He placed lazy open mouthed kisses to your own, sloppily dragging his tongue anywhere he could make contact, the taste of your arousal meeting your own tongue.

Humming against your skin, Suga took the lead, hands roaming your body as he twisted you to sit in his lap, back against his chest. He lifted your chin to look at him, shakily breathing as one of his arms found his way between your thighs, lithe fingers tracing against your slit, slowly slipping themselves into you, walls eagerly swallowing them in pleasure.

“I’m going to start moving now, okay?” he said softly, eyes stuck to yours as he curled them in and out. His other hand snaked around your waist, pressing down to your abdomen as you arched your back at the change in pressure. A gargled moan caught in the back of your throat as he sped up, pistoning his fingers directly into the soft, spongy flesh in your core.

You could barely form any coherent words- lips sputtering half praises and soft gasps as he guided you, the butterflies welling in your stomach set to burst through. Goosebumps were pricking your body as he whispered in your ear.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Does it feel good?”

You nodded, the fuzziness in between your eyes coupled with the building pressure in your lower half gave way to a dizzying sensation, a squelching noise coming out from your walls. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you grabbed at his wrist, feeling the familiar approach of your high, but even stranger, the burning feeling of having to go to the bathroom.

“I’m going to…” Suga cut you off as he clasped his lips over yours again, fingering you faster and bringing his thumb to your clit. Your screams were muffled by his kiss, a wet release streaming from you as Suga removed his fingers to flatten his palm against your sex, rubbing as fast as his hands could against your clit.

As you came down, you clutched onto him tightly, shaking in the realization of your wetness soaking his jeans. You let out a deep sigh, ears ringing as you entered the earthly realm yet again.

“Never knew you were a squirter,” your best friend teased, helping you out of his lap and up onto the bed.

“I didn’t either,” you panted out.

He raised an eyebrow, scooting up next to you in bed. Your fingers twisted at your t-shirt, fumbling to throw it back on and feeling his eyes on you, still lingering in the heaviness of the smoke that was dissipating in your room.

You looked at him longingly through the vapors, fingers tracing the details of his face as you both lingered in the reality of what just happened.

“So,” Suga sat up, taking your hands in his. “You think you’re over him?”

You nodded.

“But I don’t think I’ll be over you anytime soon,” you said softly.

He sparked up another joint, pulling your face to his as he blew the smoke into your mouth, sealing it with another kiss.

“You don’t have to be,” he smirked. “We’ve got all afternoon if you want to stay under me…”

You definitely did.

Brainrot Kinktober Taglist (if ur url is bolded, check ur privacy settings!): @ukaic @definitelythotful @shrimpypenis @nonexistent-social-life @crushingonsuga @revolutionary-chocolate-cake @right-shoe-jpg @sugawara-sweetheart @nxynxy @aoba-baby @arianna20 @scorpiosanssexy @ceo-of-daichi @dinosaurtsukki @turquoiselace @nonamemaximum @omibaby @chokemelevi @bokuakadaily @haikyuuangst @cutie-aesthetic-palace @whet-ones-write @superdepressedhoe @iwachanswh0re @crushzone @kiseox @mysticalroadnightempath @toobsessedsstuff @trouvelle @kodzu-ken @elianetsantana @sonyaroses-blog @tsukkisbitch @mrs-kuroojinguji @tendousfingers

[meetmeatthecoda]

Hey, sorry it's so random, but do you have any hurt-comforty / whumpy Lizzington headcanons to share? I really miss these two and your take on them is just 😘👌

Hey there, anon!! 🤗 No worries, this isn't random at all, or - if it is - well, still no worries bc it's most welcome!! 😍 And yes, of course, I can dream up some "hurt-comforty whumpy Lizzington headcanons" for you, it would be my pleasure!! 😁 And I apologize for the wait on this btw, I've had a busy week IRL 😬 I appreciate your patience very much, as well as you sending this ask at all... I miss these two very much as well & I'm very flattered that you like my take on them enough to ask me for content!! 🥰 SO, without further ado, here are your headcanons, anon, placed below the cut for everyone's convenience - I hope you enjoy them!! 😊 Thanks again for coming to me with this request, anon, & much, much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️

With the twenty or so years Red has on Liz - however irrelevant they are at most times - his body sometimes shows its age in small but irritating ways, especially during particularly cold winters or at the end of long days. He gets headaches more often than he used to from too much caffeine, his eyes get sore from squinting & straining on the days he forgets his glasses, & his knees & back hurt awfully after an especially active day. It's after these days that Liz - seeing the familiar way the corners of his eyes & mouth tighten in pain, the stiffness in his walk, & the telltale way he sometimes favors his left knee - says nothing & simply steers him to the couch when they're winding down for the evening. Without a word, she gently maneuvers him to lay his tired head down on her lap & he goes without complaint, happily & thankfully settling down in his favorite relaxing position with his most trusted person, as she runs her fingers lovingly over his scalp, rubs his cropped hair against the grain in a way that makes his toes curl, & strokes his neck & shoulders as far as she can reach. By the time she's done her impromptu, loving massage, he's on the cusp of sleep & with no more pain in his joints & she urges him to bed where he curls up happily with her & falls gratefully into a peaceful, painless sleep.

When Liz's time of the month comes around, she tends to get awful cramps & lots of back pain that often keep her from getting a good night's rest. Painkillers only provide minimal relief & Red can always tell that she's suffering by the way dark circles appear under her eyes from lack of sleep & she often curls in on herself with her brows furrowed in pain, even when she tries to be valiant & hide it from him. During these few days every month, Red makes a special point to wait on Liz even more than usual, insisting that she rest on the couch while he prepares dinner - even if what she wants for dinner is simply take-out - he neatly arranges it on a plate & serves it to her on a tray on the sofa. He also makes sure they have plenty of chocolate in the house, usually going out of his way to order & pick up Lizzie's favorite gourmet cupcakes from their local bakery. Lastly, to help her sleep, Red spoons up tightly behind her, knowing the only thing that will ease the pain in her back is his warmth, & splays his hands low on her tummy to help with her cramps, until she sighs in relief & gradually falls asleep in his arms.

In their line of work, the occasional tussle with an unruly blacklist is unavoidable & sometimes - after the ones where Red or Dembe were just a few seconds too late - Liz gets injured. In those regrettable instances, Red whisks her back to their house with no thought to debriefing at the Post Office, his first & only priority getting her patched up. He says nothing to her, only taking her hand & tugging her into the bathroom, where he pushes her down onto the closed toilet lid & immediately turns to the well-stocked medicine cabinet to retrieve what he needs to tend to her wounds. Usually, they're nothing worse than a deep cut or a nasty bruise, but he cleans & bandages it with a thorough & gentle touch anyway, adding a tender sweep of his fingers to her uninjured skin. As he pampers her, Liz often thinks to herself that a few minor injuries are well worth it to see the way his eyes burn in fury at whoever dared lay a hand on her & the way he stays glued to her side until her wounds are healed.

[what-the-fic-khr]

it’s me, giving y’all an Among Us AU fic I wrote in November last year and couldn’t post bc it was long and gore and needed a read more anyway here we are

character/s: sawada tsunayoshi, cavallone dino

word count: 1,190

warnings: huh. so. blood, gore, body disfigurement, body horror, violence and injury, cannibalism (?? yeah??), vomiting, removal of limbs, self-harm, it’s nasty

prompt: dino was like his brother, and tsuna would always admire him for that (among us au)

Something in the air wasn’t right.

Tsuna couldn’t put his finger on it, exactly, but it wasn’t comfortable. It was so stuffy, but it was also so cold. He almost found it hard to breathe.

He’d been pushed so hard these days to look after his crew, but now that he had free time, he almost didn’t want to be alone. It was too quite.

“Oh, Tsuna! There you are-!”

Tsuna physically jumped at the echo of another voice behind him, only vaguely noticing he’d been so out of it he hadn’t even heard their footsteps.

Dino snorted a little at just how skittish Tsuna was, dropping a hand on his shoulder. “You alright? I’ve been looking for you, and you’re off walking around on your own.”

The brunet blanched at this. His self-titled brother was always one who did like to poke fun at him, just a bit. But, he could always trust Dino.

“I’m fine, I’m fine... What are you doing here?”

Dino blinked his honey eyes, humming a little curiously at Tsuna’s question.

“Have I ever needed a reason? I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright!”

Dino proceeded to drone on and one about how Tsuna worried him, how he needed to ensure the younger was doing okay with his new title, make sure that everyone was healthy and doing well.

Still, the air felt so stale when he breathed.

The blond seemed to notice the blank expression on Tsuna’s face, trailing off to inspect him a little closer.

He squeezed Tsuna’s shoulder firmly, leaning down to try and meet his eyes.

“Hey. Somethin’ on your mind?”

It took a moment for Tsuna to zone back in, and when he did he was met with so much warmth and concern that he almost choked up.

Dino was always so wonderful.

“It’s just...” Tsuna shrugged warily, averting his gaze. “I’ve just got this feeling that something is off, but I’m not sure what it is...”

Dino’s usual sparkling hues blanked out into pools of umber.

Still, Tsuna waved his hands around and continued.

“It’s weird. Everything just feels so weird, and I feel almost sick, but...” The rest died on his tongue, feeling fingers dig so harshly into his shoulder.

His attention shot back to Dino, inspecting his features for a moment. He felt his stomach drop.

“Ah, Dino-san...?”

Despite the one hand on his shoulder, he could hear the cracking of bones and feel the drag of fingertips across his back until they met his other shoulder.

Tsuna had frozen. Sweat was accumulating on his brow, and he was too scared to turn his head to look to his side, afraid of what would happen if he stopped holding eye contact with the blond in front of him.

The shaky breath that left him seemed to set something off in Dino, and the brunet watched with wide eyes, horror keeping him glued to the spot as he watched his friend’s head snap to the side and hit his shoulder so harshly it made him gag.

With a low, deep creak that came from bones deep in his torso, his body shifted and his head shot backwards, now hanging limply.

Tsuna couldn’t help the short croak he let out, watching as his torso grew in height before the uniform at the left of his waist tore open, skin and flesh slowly tearing away to reveal row after row of razor sharp teeth.

The sight of flesh falling away and hitting the floor with a wet noise had Tsuna gagging once more before lurching back, further into the boney hold of Dino’s hand.

Slowly the rows of teeth started to open, widening the nasty stretch of skin against the force of it, tugging at his chest and twisting tattoos until they were no longer distinguishable.

Tears blurred Tsuna’s vision when a tongue poked out and ran over pearly whites, accepting the damage the sharp points did to it, blood flowing into its own mouth and down the hip of its host.

“I thought you were pretty good, Tsuna.”

It sounded like Dino, but it was so twisted that it made Tsuna flinch back and throw his arms up and over his face protectively. Finally, his body gave way and he started trembling

“But, you were too good. Too sharp. Look at where that got you.”

If he peeked through his messy fringe, his tears and his arms, he’d have been able to see the mouth open so far that it basically tore Dino’s entire torso in half, almost a disgusting and ragged split right across.

Maybe even worse, staring down at the ground to avoid the sight before him, he had to come face to face with the limp upper body and the face of his once brother.

Tsuna’s legs gave out the moment the monster’s ones cracked sickeningly to the sides before stretching like its hands, flesh pulling and ripping to make room.

“A-Ah...”

The drag of sharp, pointed fingertips dragging across metal had Tsuna hunching over and vomiting, unable to hold it in any longer.

Despite the stench, he kept staring down at his lap, tear unending.

He was going to die.

“Scared?”

It’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. He couldn’t stand it.

His lips pulled back and a pathetic whimper echoed back when it’s tongue slowly caressed the side of his face.

Disgusting, disgusting—

The monster watched curiously as the teen’s hands flung up to his cheek where he’d been licked, and dug his nails in as hard as possible, before tanking as hard as he could.

He scratched until his cheek was raw, and red, and kept going until he bled and skin piled up under his nails.

Disgusting.

“You’re losing it. I was hoping you’d last a little longer.”

Tsuna’s head shot up when one of his arms was gently grabbed, his mind reeling. This wasn’t meant to be happening–

“No, n-no...! No, no—!”

It hurt. His arm was being pulled on, with no restraint, and it hurt so bad. He could feel the joint starting to strain-

“Stop! Please, stop—!”

‘Pop’.

A sharp cry tugged from his throat, and his body lurched back while his free hand shot to his shoulder instinctively. But it kept pulling. It kept on pulling on it. It wouldn’t stop.

Everything was a haze after the initial breaking of his arm, but the burn he felt when his arm was removed was so indescribable.

He’d absolutely blacked out, for a short moment, in the sudden shock and pain of it all.

He wished he’d have stayed that way.

But his eyes betrayed him, and they opened, and they came face to face with the mouth of this monster, his own arm hanging out between its teeth.

The scream he let out was so loud and unhinged, he didn’t think he was even capable of making it. Now he didn’t think he was capable of ever stopping.

Despite all the cries of pain from Tsuna, the monster seemed to grin, muscles and loose flesh pulling tight with the motion.

“Thank you for the meal.”

[sunseteyes]

prompt 32 and 33 heavy angst for jumin han of mystic messenger please

prompt 32. “I’m here for you! Can’t you see?” prompt 33. “Am I just a friend to you?”

teacups and books. unlike any other kids, you and jumin were raised like a princess and a prince, off to grab every opportunity for growth and maturity at such a young age. you two were corporate heirs and aside from jihyun, you were on of those whom he trust the most, and it was the same for you.

if only you had warned yourself from the start; to fall for someone else and not the one whom you had grown up with ever since you were a little child, then maybe... maybe you had saved your heart from crumbling into pieces that could rival your own money. and that’s saying something.

jumin is handsome, and intelligent, and bold, even as a little boy. you couldn’t really blame your past self for having developed such unneeded feelings. but those qualities weren’t the only ones that had pushed you to go against the odds. no. your father had taught you well about choosing well for your investments. if he were alive, then he must be glowing with joy once he learns that every minute he spent teaching you was not a waste after all--you succeeded, and were continue doing so.

almost everyone would describe jumin as cold-hearted, but for you, he wasn’t like that. you know that deep inside that frozen facade was a man who knew the word “hurt” and the only reason why he acts this way is because he was taught to be like that. you know because you were taught to be like that too, and there was no one else who could relate to you just as much as jumin could. 

because by the night your father died, he was there. 

you know it may have been because of your eyes; the way he read it and transcribed in his mind that you were hurt, and grieving, and in need of comfort. so he gave you one, in his own little way.

a blue handkerchief, one that has his name embroidered on it. 

“take it.” he sounded demanding, but his eyes were soft, and you knew you had fallen there and there.

but as the years passed, you learned something else that your father had once taught you but you clearly had learned it the hard way.

and it was not to expect that everything would turn out the way you want it to be.

it was great at first, when your mother had told you that she’ll give you what you want, until you sooner learned that she was going to arrange a marriage between you and jumin. it made you speechless, really. because how could your mother had known that you harbored feelings to the man when you had never told it to anybody? but it was fine. everything was going your way, anyway.

but that’s just what you thought.

you thought jumin also agreed. you thought he liked you too.

when jumin lost his cat, elizabeth, you tried so hard to find it for him; putting up ads in newspapers, posting in social media. you had probably done it all to help him. and just then, you decided to visit him in his penthouse.

“what are you doing here?” he did not let you in at first, but when he did, he had a scowl on his face, one that only you could recognize due to the long time you had observe his reactions and facial expressions. he was displeased. but why? why is he acting this way? you were confused, but you stood your ground, thinking it might just be because of work.

“i’m here to visit you, i heard elizabeth is missing. is she found yet?”

“no she hasn’t. if that’s all you came here for, you can get out now.”

once again, you ignored his words.

“i qanted to say that i am also doing the best i can to find her. i know how much she means to you.”

there was a flash of the old jumin in his eyes, for a brink second. but it was gone before you could even say more.

“you don’t need to do that.”

“but i have to. you’re going to be my husband and-”

“who said i agreed to that?”

you halted then, “what?”

his eyes were cold, piercing like a knife. “i did not agree to that.”

he was being in denial. you knew he cared much more than that.

“am i just a friend to you?” he had no answer. he didn’t seem he would, honestly. but you knew the answer.

“i even if i am,” you swallowed the pain. “i know you have a heart, unlike what everyone else says so. but i’m here for you. can’t you see?”

he sighed then, raising a hand to the bridge of his nose, looking stressed. you were about to say more when you saw movement by the corner of your eyes. you followed it and you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. it was a girl, wearing jumin’s clothes, you could recognize it of course, he had worn it once in one of the joint family dinners you, your mother, your father, him, and his father had.

your gaze went back to jumin, your heart aching but you were voiceless. you had misunderstood the whole thing. you knew jumin did not have anyone for a very long time because of the women his father always had. you thought you would be the one who could heal him.

he looks at you with a troubled look then, one that you’ll probably remember the rest of your life as he spoke the words. “i already have someone for that.”

you kept it together, but deep inside, you were hearing your heart shattering, like a broken glass that was actually fragile even if everyone thought it was strong.

and it took the same man who you bonded with teacups and books to do that.

i don’t know to you but this one is a pain to write because it literally pained my heart bc jumin’s my fave in mm

feel free to send more requests! prompts are here!

[one-hell-of-a-manic-girl]

I was officially diagnosed with rheumatism (autoimmune, not degenerative). I'm fucking devastated.

I mean, I know that I kinda had something like that since I was 12 or so, but it's never affected me much. Sometimes my knee or my shoulder would hurt and I thought okay, no big deal, no need to go to the doctor's - admittedly that I don't like going to the doctor anyway, unless I'm kinda like dying or something - but during the past two months, my body decided to become my own, personal living hell.

The inflammation started to spread slowly from my shoulders to my ellbows down to my wrists and at some point even my left thumb fucking ached. Other than my knees, it "only" spread to my right hip, which is terrible enough when you are a side sleeper - and I really like sleeping on my right side. =.=

I reached the point at which not even ibuprofen or voltaren helped in any way - both of which you shouldn't be taking longer than three days anyway bc it seriously fucks up your stomach and bowel and weakens your immune system further which is under attack already - but the pain got so bad that I couldn't sleep anymore or do anything like watering my plants bc my arms hurt so much. For two days, even my thyroid hurt due to the inflammation. The only thing that helped at least a bit was cooling my burning joints with cold packs wrapped in a thin piece of cloth.

Obviously, I should've visited the doctor much earlier, i. e. the moment my knee was in pain. However, I really didn't want to have cortisone injected and still don't want it tbh... Plus, I was like 12 or 13, like hell I cared back then.

In case you start suffering from joint inflammation: Go to the doctor's AT ONCE!! Don't wait until the inflammation spreads to both sides of your body to avoid as much damage as possible. Even though you'll be treated with medication that eases your pain and symptoms (rheumatism cannot be cured though), the damage that was already done to your joints cannot be reversed.

I know, I hesitated bc of cortisone treatment, but you can, should and have to talk to your doctor. They need to refer you to a rheumatologist and you can explain to them that you only accept cortisone in worst cases. They should diagnose your type of rheumatism and treat you with the respective and suitable medication and not with random shit that might fuck up your body with unnecessary side effects.

As I said, in my case, I'm like reeeaaally late, because the inflammation spread to quite a lot of joints. I can still treat it, but it's going to take a while to reduce the affects.

What can I do though? Well, as I said, I don't like relying on painkillers at all since they are very, very damaging to your body - in case you didn't know, voltaren pills are even worse than ibuprofen. So, what to do?

I changed my diet to paleo again. In the past two years, I ate pizza and bread again and loads of other crap, even though I knew how extremely good I was feeling with paleo before. However, I was suffering from a very depressive episode and the mere thought of having to pay attention to what I'm eating was already quite exhausting. The side effect was that I gained a whopping 40kg, which really didn't help in battling my depression. Lol! Even without exercising at the moment - I'm still not very motivated tbh, but I recently started slowly with a few pushups just for fun and to get accustomed to it again - I lost 8kg already. Ah, I love paleo so much and I'm so happy that I managed to adapt my diet again. Btw, you can change your paleo diet as per your needs, i. e. there are special diet plans for different autoimmune diseases, for losing weight more effectively and so on. Despite being diagnosed with rheumatism I don't think that I'm ready for radical paleo autoimmune disease plans bc I barely managed to control my cravings for chocolate to a point at which I can stop eating bananas. Lol!! I should really tell you more about paleo and why I'm so convinced of its principles, but that's it for now.

Speaking of exercise: I used to do bodyweight/HIIT in combination with Pilatus. I wouldn't recommend HIIT until you managed to "control" your appetite since you're burning a vast amount of calories in only 20 or 30 minutes. I did it while I was off paleo and was eating more than ever before, so that really backfired. Lmao I've heard that there are special stretching and other exercises for rheumatism, got to check that, too.

I've heard of some of my sister's colleagues who are suffering from rheumatism as well (all of us no older than 30 btw...). They mix a special drink called golden milk. Now you can see how I'm really not into trends or spending much time on the internet bc I just looked it up to check how it's called in English only to learn that it's some sort of trendy super food and not a special drink for rheumatism. Lmao! Well, the point is that it really seems to help them with their inflammation pain, so I'll try that, too. My bf is also into mixing aromatic oils and we learnt that rosemary, mint and especially an herb called arnica can help ease the inflammation. As you can see, I ALWAYS prefer diet, exercise and "household remedies" over any painkillers of any kind - as long as possible, I don't think that I'll be able to avoid it entirely.

So yeah, my own body is attacking me. It's kinda sad, really. Most of the time, I really love my body, despite having gained so much weight (which is my mistake though and not that of my body, lol). But having been diagnosed with rheumatism (and I'm suffering from other shit like neurodermatitis as well) really caused some hatred towards my body for attacking me for such a long time. Rheumatism can have other side effects, you know, like migraine, fatigue and stuff and I realized that it was due to this autoimmune disease that I was "weak", sensitive and prone to other diseases. I've suffered so much from all of this, from the migraine episodes, from countless times I had sinusitis or having a cold many times per year more often than average and especially from the damn fatigue that it really made me mad that only one autoimmune disease is probably responsible for all of this.

However, my bf recently told me that I shouldn't hate my body, but have some compassion bc my body doesn't WANT to attack me, it's just not capable of recognizing me anymore and very confused and tries to do its job even though it's the wrong direction. That was so moving that I really changed my mind and now am more at peace with my body.

Well, long story short, I hope I'll learn to cope with this disease and that this blog post will help others, too. I might keep you posted on this, but I'll definitely post something about paleo once in a while. :P

[huntershowl-moving]

IMPORTANT  HEADCANONS  TO CONSIDER! 

repost, don’t reblog.

can  they use chopsticks? yeah! she didn’t learn until getting her new arms, though – beforehand, she and her brother rarely had access to utensils and both of them had tremors, so spoons were easiest. but once persephone was recovering in sanya’s manor, they taught her how to use chopsticks along with all of the weird high class silverware they were accustomed to. so many forks. so many forks.

what  do  they  do  when  they  can’t  sleep? so, most nights –– i mean. she’ll generally take her grappling hook to the rooftops and free-run around outside for a bit, before sitting on a rooftop and drinking until either the sun rises or she passes out. 

what  would  they  impulse  buy  at  the  grocery  store? JELLIES. AND. JAMS. also, packaged sweets, and canned peaches. preserved fruit is her favorite shit in pretty much any form, if we’re talking impulses, but she’ll just as easily reach for muffins or little cakes ( she likes small bite-sized sweets. NON-STICKY ONES. her and leto are both weirdly picky, lol )

what  order  do  they  wash  things  in  the  shower? HAIR FIRST because it takes for fucking ever to work shampoo and conditioner through all of it. so she’ll sit with her back to the shower and let her mind wander while her hands mindlessly massage in shampoo, then conditioner. then she’ll step back and meticulously wash her body – all of her stuff is scent-free, because strong artificial scents just aren’t her bag. she’ll then get out, massage body oil into the scars around her shoulders to loosen the muscles and minimize phantom pain once they tense back up, and dry off. immediately pops a couple of advil in anticipation for the Return of the Pain because it always swells with a vengeance about 30min after a shower. three if it’s a cold day, then she waits for four hours before letting herself drink again for obvious reasons.  after that, it’s the process of taking off one arm at a time, maneuvering the off-arm between her knees and taking a cold hair dryer to the joints to dry out the water. she’ll use a rag dipped in the oil tavin gives her and greases the joints, pop the arm back on, then do it for the other one. it’s been a routine for so long now that she’s gotten very efficient and finishes the whole post-shower process in 15-20 minutes. her hair normally dries on its own, faster than it should – one of its quirks that makes it easy to keep it so long. sometimes she’ll twist it up into a bun so that it doesn’t brush against her when it’s wet, as styling it is absolutely impossible. any curl comes out within a fuckin minute.

what’s  their  coffee  order? large black coffee from the nearest and cheapest deli or stand, into which she pours whiskey. hellhound will not step into a starbucks unless forced.

what  sort  of  apps  would  they  have  on  their  smartphone? BARE FUCKING BONES. in modern verse, hellhound uses a custom smartphone built by the unseen. she has one secure messaging app, the phone app, camera + photos, and whatever weird apps tavin is beta/sandbox testing and pesters her into downloading.

how  do  they  act  around  children? very ... distant. she stays far away if possible, due to the belief that she ruins anyone she’s near, and really, really doesn’t want to accidentally bring misfortune onto a kid. if a child is in trouble, she’ll fight tooth and fucking nail to help, but on a casual level? if a child approaches her, she’ll ... answer a question or two and then try her best to escape the situation without making them cry ksdjhfkd

what  would  they  watch  on  tv  when  they’re  bored  and  nothing  they  really  like  is  on? hellhound has literally never seen a movie or watched TV. she spends very little time inside, and when she does, it’s in sanya’s manor or an abandoned room she can hunker down in for a little bit.

tagged by: thiefed from @waywardsignns

tagging: please take it and tag me bc i want to seeee.

[belzinone]

SEND ME A WORD! || LEARN ALL ABOUT MY MUSE'S PHYSICAL FEATURES!

// @wolfstillhasclaws // @hunting-songs //

// y’all really cleaned me out here, huh? jasdfnkajnfkan i love you both~<3 (this is also nice bc i can describe her better than i can draw her; aaaaaand i been chipping away at this forever oh dear. ah well. i finished an assignment. i deserve to post this now <3

[EYES]: not just the colour, but the shape, the length of their eyelashes, whether they're alert or usually half-closed, large or small, sunken into the face, ringed by bags, etc.

// sharply angled almonds surrounded by corner folds of age, stress, & restless nights. lashes thickly line their corners like fine fur, emphasized by the way her lids are drawn under the weight of contemplation. small & narrow in shape, but nonetheless quickly to light, soften, & warm at the sight of the things she loves. small pupils are bathed in a bright amber bath sprinkled with green in the candlelight, not much different from the sun’s rays through a forest canopy in the daylight. stern but forgiving, sharp but soft. more of a window to her soul than her mouth would probably ever communicate.

// her brows are drawn but expressive, usually level in furrows but quick to relax & raise. full & average thickness as they taper to the edges of her face, they have soft angles but a sharp beginning. a burn chars the follicles of the left side of her left brow later in life, leaving a break in its length.

[HAIR]: length, colour, texture, whether it grows quickly or slowly, how manageable it is, whether it requires lots of styling, do they leave stray hairs everywhere, is it present on their face, is it present on the rest of their body, etc.

// cut & grown as necessity & identity fluctuated throughout her life. a short crop as a small girl, grazing her ears & off her nape to best pass as a boy. as she matured, her mother insisted she grow out her long tawny waves & she obliged, subject to the pressures of not insisting she knew better. though relatively thin & not well kept (a luxury lacked by many underground residents), long, beautiful hair was key to landing a rich husband.

// as a civilian, she tied up her hair in a number of ways for many occasions, having more time to spend on her appearances than as a soldier. her go-to became a loose, sideswept braid she kept for the beginning of her military career. after sacrificing length for life, she donned herself the popular soldier’s undercut, though leaving some length on the shave & a generous head of curls that fall to the side. she never felt more like herself.

// she leaves strings of twisted burnt copper everywhere she rests, easily caught by dark fabrics & generous sunlight. lovers & comrades given permission to roam her body would find soft, thin hairs nearly invisible against the rich, ashy undertones of her skin. they concentrate in a combination of wolffian & müllerian patterns: under her arms, on her lower back, down the line of her stomach, as well as sparsely covering her genitals, arms, & legs.

// as soon as she gets her hands on body-scaping luxuries as a soldier, she makes a habit out of maintaining her body hairs on a regular basis. not for presentation, but function as skin-tight uniform pants & full body straps make staying au natural rather uncomfortable. regardless of her upkeep, the hair in areas most impacted by her uniform have steadily lost its volume to friction.

// as she started to lose herself after her injury, she grew out the hair on her head but couldn’t bring herself to stop maintaining her military undercut entirely. as personal hygiene became difficult, her body-scaping became lax & revealed patterns of war through her uniform & scars.

[MOUTH]: are their lips always drawn thin or are they plump and kissable, what's their "default expression"/resting face, do they have all their own teeth, do they use their teeth to smile, etc

// small, full, & pursed in stress until her sights are set upon a dear face. in situations of calm & camaraderie she wears the slightest grin as a neutral expression. a pronounced cupid’s bow with a crooked edge when she smiles. a natural smirk without the airs of arrogance.

// though her jaw is usually tense, she hides her teeth (unremarkable & average for someone of her stature) until rare instances of unrestrained joy overwhelm her consciousness.

// if she could choose a color, she’d enjoy a lively, perhaps even icy pink rather than rouge regardless if it “matches her skintone” or not

[FACE]: what is the shape of their face, do they have pronounced cheekbones or a strong jaw, what's the size and shape of their nose, what's the size and shape of their ears, do they stick out, are they pointed, etc.

// the only part of her that never seemed to mature. short & small in shape with round cheeks yet capable of feral expressions. perhaps a heart shape with a small yet pronounced chin. her nose is small as well with a pronounced button shape compared to the rest of her peers, much like armin. her age shows in the rest of her features, from the folds of her eyes to the wrinkles between her brows. identifying features include her pronounced widow’s peak & nearly invisible freckles, as well as a couple facial moles: a left monroe & another below her right brow.

// her ears stand out, but not in size or angle. they’re comparatively small, round, & easily hide in her hair, but her detached earlobes are undoubtedly foreign as the rest of the eldian population seems to sport attached earlobes. her mother taught her to hide this, but they’re regardlessly easily unnoticed.

// the way she wears her visage is kind, welcoming, & maternal, unhardened by the throes of battle but nonetheless changed throughout her life & adapt to circumstances. as a cadet she carried a lot of secrets & communicated a demand for distance through a resting bitch face, unraveled by the love & understandings of her late garrison squad. though not incapable of being stern & able to sway most others through a Look:tm:, she much prefers not to convey authority & would rather communicate airs of openness, a manifestation of democratic leadership expressed by levi & other philosophies of the scouting legion she admires.

[SKIN]: obviously colour, but also if they're inclined to run hot or cold, do they have any blemishes or unusual markings, are they inclined to blush, are they freckled, do they tan, what does their skin feel like, etc.

// her ancestors weren’t from the walls. she looks a bit out of place much like the others who hailed from across the continent, most notably comparable to ymir who hailed from a poor, remote land. fair to medium tone, olive & ashy in undertone.

// faint, full-body freckles despite being easy to tan, a trait rare to those who spend the beginnings of their life underground. her skin reflects the sun she catches after moving above ground, a soft & subtle sun-kissed glow that gently darkens throughout her career, especially as she catches direct sunlight ontop of & beyond the walls. (lowkey inspired by my very elementary coloring skills. i’m getting better & applying my growth to her development bc we’re in this together) as a result, she doesn’t need much sun protection & does very much enjoy sunbathing

// warm to the touch, but reluctant to blush. she has thick skin & an elastic heart. most parts of her are hardened, calloused, dried, & bruised save for the intimate parts of her including her inner joints & limbs. the softest parts of her are her inner thighs surrounding 3dmg wear, surprisingly luxurious for such a hardened soldier often subject to harsh medicinal chemicals.

// also on par is a freshly shaved pussy but i believe that’s pretty universal with the right skincare. also pretty average of her: she has rough, dry, & slightly darkened elbows.

// the texture of her neck is unsettling at the very least, a result of scar tissue buildup in an area with such thin skin. it’s very odd & generally off-putting, causing her to regard the area with a lot of defensiveness & self-consciousness. (marked bc probably one of her most characteristic physical traits)

[BUILD]: are they skinny and petite or do they resemble a body builder, are they tall or short or average height, are they lean and wiry, are they overweight, are all of their features proportionate, etc

// her body betrays who she feels she is, even as she works to manipulate (& privately enhance) its shape & volume. she doesn’t feel like it belongs to her, but it is.

// petite & heavyset, small but mighty with generous work-muscle, most notably in her back, thighs, & upper arms. she has a strong core, but her abdominals will never be as pronounced as a result of the significantly müllerian way her body retains fat. four pack for life. it pains her.

// pronounced hourglass figure, deceptively top-heavy. small, but strong & widened shoulders support large breasts that are bound in sarashi-like fashion under her scout uniform, a way meant to be safest for support as well as long-term wear, but nonetheless restricting & potentially dangerous if not done correctly.

// properly bound & suited, she could pass as male just as well as she could when she was a child. androgyny feels most natural to her, but genuine femininity is a high-hanging fruit she may never taste regardless of the sensuality of her body when enhanced with her favorite lingerie. in private, she indulges & finds comfort in playing up her femininity and exploring aesthetic sensuality (marked for key characterization of her sexuality/gender identity)

[HANDS]: are they large or small, do they have pianist's fingers or short stubby ones, do they tend to get sweaty or are they always dry, is the skin rough or delicate, are the nails painted or chewed or sharp, etc.

// hands small enough to meticulously craft detail, deceptively rough with work. short, but nonetheless artisan fingers. short & kept nails, though mechanical oils, debris, & blood sometimes persist without her noticing. more often when she’s distracted, but she’ll take care of it asap nonetheless.

// they’re always warm, ready to hold, ready to work, ready to comfort. but they are dry, especially the tops of her hands. they’re always in need of repair, moisture, & upkeep.

[LEGS]: are they solidly built, short and stubby, or long and graceful, do they have knobbly knees or rounded knees, what's their gait, etc.[feet]: do they have a habit of going up on their tiptoes, what's their usualy stance, do they tend to shift their weight to a preferred side, etc.

// they do nothing for her height, wide with secondary müllerian fat deposit & definitively shaped with the muscle of a workhorse. yet they can move her with skillful grace, artfully bending and swaying as led by her hips in the midst of her dancing.

// in this vein, she has an extraordinary sense of balance. whether or not she consciously keeps this in constant check is up for debate, but her legs ground and carry her well. she’s also very flexible & can do a myriad of splits.

// she often leans towards her left when standing, later shifting to her right and alternating to keep the blood flow alive. bel also has a tendency for wide, masculine stances to keep her on her toes in action as well as situations that call for her bluff.

// her most natural, comfortable position is on her knees. level with her patients in their environment of need, ready to tend. she very much prefers the ground and can kneel for very long periods of time without losing her sensations. she’s learned to strategically carry and shift her weight in order to accomplish long sessions.

[OTHER: CLOTHES STYLE]: any other obscure feature or tiny detail that the asker is interested in, materials, style, details, freshly new bought or old an worn down, full of dirt or always washed, preferred colour

// as a child they were little more than rags, but nonetheless carefully tailored & decorated with the love of a homemaker mother. it was more as a means of protection rather than inevitability, as flaunting wealth in the dangerous subterranean city was a death sentence.

// as soon as she reached adolescence, her mother instructed her to dress as a lady & slowly began to bestow upon her the racy garments she used to wear as a Wallflower. subdued skirts & bodices became more & more audacious as they grew closer to the surface. risa’s wears were optimized for wiles as much as work, with hidden inner drawstrings easily controlling length, bell sleeves skillfully tied back, corsets carefully constructed to allow stretch as much as shape.

// this stage of life for bel, however, was even more fraught with denied freedoms, fostering a growing complicated relationship between herself & her gender expression. even as she grew into a young adult, she still lacked the bodily function to menstruate, still found herself under the pressures of her mothers dreams to marry into the capitol & retire as a socialite.

// it wasn’t what she wanted, so bel soon began shedding her compromises. with her uniform she donned a laced undershirt over bustiers, not ideal for service but not so stifling either for the lax garrison regiment. her comrades gifted her her switchblade as well as a red ribbon, which she wove & tied into her usual braid.

// following the battle of trost, a bone from her bodice close to puncturing her lung prompted her to make a change. for the first time in years, she reached for the bandage & bound her chest, feeling more powerful than ever. when an Underground scuffle gave her a neck scar, she traded her lace for a sleeveless number with a cowl to cover it. it’s soft material closely resembling a sweater & is perhaps the first garment she bought for herself without tailoring.

// i put her in dark mauve for no reason other than it’s a color i like. maybe it hides bloodstains. maybe she indulged in a higher class color as homage to her mother’s lost dreams. the latter is the most likely option, even though i just thought of it at the moment of writing this. so it goes. she chooses rich colors because of her mother. not just because i like it. (it also compliments the olive in her skin, i think)

// while out on the town or in casual wear, bel lets herself indulge in her femininity, treating it as a special occasion. her style choices are still more audacious than the average woman on the street, more so when she wears her dance costumes under a cloak on the way to a sidejob. out of uniform, she’s likely to turn heads & instigate judgements. she nonetheless enjoys it, as being perceived as a feminine (as well as sexual) being eases her feelings of dysphoria as well as her trifles with asexuality. though she won’t demand it verbally, she’s very much a statement Attention Whore.

*BONUS, bc may as well top it off lol* [FEET]: do they have a habit of going up on their tiptoes, what's their usual stance, do they tend to shift their weight to a preferred side, etc.

// her weight is always on the balls of her feet, remnant of her training as a dancer before soldier. she can balance on her tiptoes like rose from titanic & is very good at it. there’s not much else about her feet worth noting at the time. headcanons may come later.