#but i want my noodles !!! sigh..................................

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated 

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.” 

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!” 

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

[kcalsforhim]

˖⋆࿐໋ wednesday 25th of december

⋆˙⟡

i woke up very groggy, the night before i was outside smoking a joint with a friend,, or maybe a mutual ? i dunno. but i did get up and i think i got some breakfast

a bowl of spinach the size of my palm

it was pretty good ! when i was warming it up in a microwave safe glass bowl, the glass shattered in a perfect circle and that was so shocking to me, but we transferred it to a different bowl

then i went to walk on my treadmill, but i was going for 15 mins and my mom asked me to walk with her instead.

so i went on a big long walk with her and she complained about everything you can think about and yeah ! i got my little 7.8 k thus far

we made dinner together today, i helped her with chopping onions and.. leek sigh.. while she made the chicken and noodles

she separated the noodles into a different pan for me because i didn’t want leek in my noodles… it was so funny, by the end my noodles were super duper dark because of what i used, and theirs were a more orangey color ! it made me laugh

the smallest piece of chicken we had, half a plate of noodles with crispy onions ontop, some cauliflower, an apple, and i think a very small corner of a brownie with some whipped cream

it was all pretty good ! i liked how crispy the chicken was, how flavourful my noodles were.. i liked the apple obviously and the brownie was okay. i didn’t mind the cauliflower it was pretty good !

after i got done with dinner i went on the treadmill for 50 mins, i wanted to go 1 hour,,, but the wrist in my foot (???) my ankle (???) started hurting a lot in my right foot, so i stopped…

then i went outside again at like… 10:15 pm to smoke 2 cigarettes cause i had to return somethinggggggg to my friend and i left it in a bag in the bushes for her lmfao.. then i went back inside cause i heard a super loud noise akin to an explosion

then i don’t know what i did.. i watched bleach while drawing, i got past 4 episodes i think ? then i had too much… so i listened to silly music… i was drawing more rocks.. and a dock.. and oh a door with fancy details !! and a small table and a stack of towels ! i finished the rocks at last… i was to relieved… because i really don’t know much about rocks, i was just winging it… i hope they turn out good in the color and shade and highlight stage..

thennnn i went to sleep zzzz !!!

steps : 17.5 k

cals : 1 day binge free !!!

cant stop thinking about lucky star, brain is lucky star pilled… cannot stop thinking about lucky star you guys !!!!!!!!!

⋆˙⟡

[sanders1665]

It’s almost midnight on Christmas Eve,

I’m as tired as a jockey’s whip,

ready to saddle up my pillow and ride into dreams,

when she blurts out,

“Oh my God, I’ve got one more present to wrap!”

Help me, she insists.

By her tone, I know "help" means me doing it.

I just want to go to bed,

but the sigh escapes before I can stop it.

“Alright then.”

She giggles,

dives into the cupboard,

comes up with a box big enough

to house the hopes of a small family of squirrels.

Three feet by two, maybe bigger,

light as her laugh.

She’s scurrying now,

front room, kitchen,

like a hummingbird on caffeine,

looking for scissors and tape.

I stand there, bemused,

watching the performance.

“There, in the junk drawer, as always.”

Her "Ha!" sounds like she’s unlocked

some profound cosmic mystery.

The scissors and tape slap down on the box I’m holding.

“Go to work, Mr. Expert Christmas Wrapper.”

I sit the box on the coffee table,

stretch my back,

try to summon some holiday spirit.

“Wait! Look inside,” she says, eyes gleaming.

The lid opens and—

what in the name of Silent Night?

Ramen noodles.

A rainbow of poverty in red, yellow, and green tissue paper.

Flavors I didn’t know existed

from lands far and wide.

Good grief,

poor man’s food in a wealthy man’s disguise.

I blink twice, maybe three times,

rub my temples like I’m conjuring logic.

“So, who’s this for?”

“Brandon, of course!” she chirps,

like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“A silly stocking filler. He loves them.

And they’re my favorites, too!”

She beams.

I wrap.

The paper crinkles like laughter,

the tape a final seal on this absurdity.

The package sits under the tree now,

its secrets tucked away.

I stretch, yawn,

and finally—mercifully—head for bed.

She whispers, “Merry Christmas.”

I smirk. “Yeah, Merry Christmas, noodle queen.”

[ivalice-tifalucis]

With the release of From The Rehearsal Room - Tokyo to Ramin's youtube I finally, finally, continue and finish this side project I'm doing.

Initially, I used AI to mastered it because the first version I got from bilibili were not in good quality but I wasn't satisfied and I found the much better quality. But with Ramin uploaded it to youtube, I re did all the mastering just with audacity for both Part 1 and Part 2. The Part 2 is still from the better version I found from bilibili, by the way.

What you need to do is just download the file and put it on your music player. The metadata is all completed as if it's whole legit album. Enjoy, guys!!

And I'm being weird so all the lyrics that are put there are from my listening although I still use what I found online but I still listened and compared. They made few ad-libs and changes and I notice because for the songs that I wasn't familiar, the lyric that I found online and what they sang was slightly different. Perhaps they sing the newer version of the lyrics or mistakes? Even each Sheytoons songs they sing one in both parts differ from the ones I found online.

Another sample from my favorite:

Source and Credits Part 1 | Part 2 (Ramin's upload) Album cover Photos

Vocal & Guitar: Ramin Karimloo, Hadley Fraser Piano: Ryohei Mori

[attroxx]

“make a witch oc” the devil whispers into my ear.

[vampirebiter]

i want mac and cheese but i dont want to have to get up and walk over to the house and make it. sigh... suffering....

[selfspinninglies]

oh god I haven't drawn any full pieces of art in 10 days who am I

[chmerical-a]

it's 9pm & i'm finally settled at home!!! there's no way i'm getting unpacking done so i'll be vibin & catching up on dms! hope ur sunday has been amazing!

[pseudowho]

"You know, Nanamin," Yuuji started, between mouthfuls, "when we first met, I thought I wouldn't like you at all."

Kento raised one thin eyebrow over the rim of his paper-cup coffee. He sat with you, and Yuuji, at a dirt road Conbini overlooking Tokyo. The sun was setting, casting the city as a silhouette against oranges, purples. You could smell the earthy petrichor of an incoming storm. Yuuji did not mind, thoughtful as he slurped at an instant ramen.

"Like, really," Yuuji continued, his mouth puckered up, "I thought you were boring. Unfunny, grumpy, miserable. Maybe even a little bit mean." Yuuji laughed now, becoming gradually more animated as he set the scene. "And when you tried to lecture me, while I was fighting that curse? Insane. I was like, 'Who the hell is this guy?'"

You covered your mouth, hiding a smile, eyes flicking between your unreadable husband, and the bubbling boy opposite him. Yuuji finished laughing, wiping his eyes and sighing into another slurp of noodles.

You placed a surreptitious hand on Kento's thigh under the table, and he barely reacted, but to tense and cross his arms. Yuuji rested his chin on one hand, eyes softening as he looked over the ant-like lights, moving in scattered formation across the city.

"But then...I realised. You just cared. I mean, really cared. About me. And if I wasn't being treated right. And if I was gonna be okay." Yuuji swallowed, his voice thickening. "And I...didn't have anyone left like that. The only person I ever did have was my grandad, and maybe he just took care of me because he had to, y'know? But you chose to. Even though I'm...I'm a monster."

You saw Kento squirm within. You knew he'd had his misgivings about Sukuna's Vessel, before Kento knew him as Yuuji. You knew the shame and guilt Kento carried for that. His shoulders ached, a pall-bearer of emotions for so many.

"And you're hilarious. Anyone can see it, really. And you're a rebel. And a protester. And you stand up for the little guy when nobody else wants to. And you don't do it to make us like you. You just...believe it's right. And don't get me wrong, I like Gojo-sensei too, but I love you."

You pursed your lips, closing your eyes and trying not to tear up on Kento's behalf. Kento remained silent, arms crossed and frowning down at his steaming coffee. Yuuji looked at you, uncertain. You gently flapped one hand; don't worry, you're alright, you're okay.

Kento eventually broke his silence, his voice gruff. He pushed his bank card across the table to Yuuji.

"Itadori-kun." Yuuji sat to attention, wide-eyed. "Go and get yourself some snacks. As much as you like. And the other students, too, if you know what they'd want."

Yuuji took the card in confusion, with both hands and a little bow, and disappeared inside the shop, the automatic doors booping behind him.

Kento stood, your hand falling off his lap, and grasped the metal railings overlooking the city, with his back to you. His shoulders were taut, stiff, occasionally hitching with emotion. You felt him, as you always had.

"...Kento? Are you alright?"

A thick swallow and a sniffle before a single gravelly, "Yeah. I'm fine, I...I'm fine."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[fxstpace]

“wonwoo,” you whisper, nudging his ankle with a sock-clad foot. “wonwoo, wake up.”

he grunts and mumbles something unintelligible, before his lips part and he lets out a soft snore. his hair is a mess—probably because he never seems to stay still when he’s asleep. you reach out and gently trail a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“wonwoo,” you try again. he shivers involuntarily. “baby, darling, light of my life. sugarplum. rubber duck. love boat.”

“i’m going to break up with you if you call me that again,” your boyfriend finally says, opening his eyes and squinting at you. you grin. he sighs, though it’s not a weary sound. more fond than anything else. loving, in the way only jeon wonwoo is. “what do you want?”

you lean over him, elbow brushing over his chest, and try to switch on the lamp placed on the bedside table. fumbling for the switch, you flick it on and blink when the room floods with soft amber light. you kick the duvet off of wonwoo’s legs, ignoring his startled huff.

moving back, you place both arms on either side of wonwoo’s head and hook a leg over his waist. his hands come up to grip your sides. despite his sleepiness, he smiles up at you—a slow, lazy one, the kind he gives you when he’s happy and content. it brings a smile to your own face.

“i want ramen,” you say in response to his question. “i’m really hungry.”

“really?” 

“really.” you nod.

his thumb rubs circles on the part of your hip where your shirt is ridden up. “and you couldn’t make it yourself?”

“you make ramen better than i do.”

“it’s literally three steps,” wonwoo says, amused. “it’s packaged food. it tastes the same regardless of who makes it.”

“it tastes different,” you insist. “please?” 

he laughs, chest rising with the movement. “okay, okay. if you say so.”

“thank you.” you bend down and kiss the corner of his mouth. “you’re the best. i’m the luckiest person alive, i swear.”

“flattery gets you nowhere,” wonwoo says, but when you clamber off the bed, he follows you to the kitchen after grabbing his glasses.

and there’s something so tender about this, so fragile, a delicate sort of thing that you will cherish and protect with your life—something special about cooking and eating ramen at midnight, specifically with him. 

it tastes different.

author’s note — wrote this because i was craving instant noodles last night at 2 am. unfortunately i did not have a jeon wonwoo to cook them for me & i didn’t have any ramen left at home 😔

[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

Now featuring a Part 2

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.

[tojbnuy]

toji disciplining baby megs 😖🤏

toji was never usually the one disciplining his son. he did the ‘eat your veggies’ and ‘inside voices only please’ and that was about it. you were more the type to teach megumi to share with his classmates and not speak over others, you may not have given birth to the boy but you loved and cared for him so deeply these things came naturally. and so tonight toji was surprised when he had spotted little megumi waddle into the living room and demand you charge his tablet for him. toji watched from his seat at the dinner table, slurping his noodles as he took in your gentle voice explaining to megumi that it was bedtime and his tablet time was over.

“no mama i want to play the game” megumi kept repeating, his voice gradually getting louder as he spoke over you. he listened as you tried to get another sentence in when suddenly you yelped out in pain and toji realised megumi had thrown his tablet and it had landed on your knuckles. the little boy’s eyes were still full of determination, unknowing of the pain he had caused you until he heard his father shout his name.

“get over here.” toji called out, watching as megumi’s tiny face was struck with a look of shock. he toddled his way over to his dad, hands gripped infront of his little protruding belly.

“did you just hit mama?”

“i just wanted to play my game!” little gumi answered. he had never heard his dad shout like this at him, he didn’t even mean to do it!

“go and say sorry you’re so naughty i can’t believe it.”

that was enough to have little megumi break into tears. his podgy hands digging into his eyes as the tears continued to fall. his dad thought he was naughty?

“go NOW” and toji watched as his son made his way over to you practically choking on his tears as he gasped out multiple ‘sorry’s’ and ‘love you mama’s. he took in your gentle hands caressing the top of megumis black hair and rubbing his back while he cried and cried.

a few minutes passed and toji had warmed up some chocolate milk for his son. he plopped himself into the gap on the couch by your side letting out a long sigh at the heat radiating off your body. megumi had his head safely tucked into your neck refusing to look at his dad as he made little hiccuping sounds.

“cmon buddy i need to talk to you. want some milk?”

and with a little encouragement from you megumi crawled into his father’s lap. toji found his own heart hurting at the tear stricken look on his sons face.

“sorry for shouting at you megs but remember we aren’t allowed to hit girls especially not mama. me and you are meant to protect mama yeah?”

“i’m sorry i won’t do it again” gumi said in his tiny voice as he cuddled up closer into his dad’s side.

“you’re a great dad.” you whispered whilst leaving soft kisses on tojis bicep and tickling megumi’s little toes. he wiped at the remaining tears left on gumis eyelashes thinking about what you said. if an angel like you saw good in him then maybe he was doing something right.

author’s note : this is so completely random i just couldn’t stop thinking about toji cuddling his little baby 🤏 apologies for any mistakes i wrote this on the train lolz

[mywritersmind]

girl i need something - comfort, fluff whatever about that race yesterday with lando, my heart needs somethingggg thank you <3

HOME SWEET - LN4

listen up : comfort!!!!!! thanks for the request i think we all needed this.

word count : 643

⋆｡‧˚⋆

As soon as I hear the dropping of bags by the front door, I jump up and run to him.

“Lan!” I scream. He catches me in his arms, my feet hovering over the floor as his arms go around my waist. His breath on my skin only excites me, his head resting on my chest as I mumble into his hair, “I missed you.”

He shakes his head, setting me down softly but not letting go, “You have no clue how happy I am to be back.” His hands go to my face, holding me as if I'm about to run away.

I take his hand from my face, smiling up at him. This whole weekend has been hell. I watched his every move on TV, had every alert on for his texts, and sat in my bed on the phone with him as he vented.

I take him to the couch, he lays down and I promptly climb next to him, nestling close to my boyfriend. His eyes are closed when I run my hand up and down his arm.

“Wanna talk about it?” It. It as is every death threat, comment, or video that’s been sent to him. It as in the media. It as in the race.

“No. I want to talk about you.” He turns to me slightly, kissing my head as his hand runs through my hair, “Weren’t too worried?”

I scoff, “You know me. I’m always worried.” This looks like it hurt him. His face morphs into a frown, “But I'm proud of you. And I definitely wasn’t screaming and running around the apartment so if we receive a noise complaint, it’s all a lie.”

He finally cracks a smile, “I love you.” he whispers as I press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet.

“You’re everything to me.” I whisper back, even though it’s just the two of us, “I just hate seeing you sad.”

He breathes out, “I’m never sad with you.” He pouts a bit, not meeting my eyes and playing with my hair. I sigh because I know that’s not true, but my job isn’t to bring him down more.

I push my face into his hoodie, he smells like cologne and the airport, “I made you cookies.”

I can practically hear the smile in his voice, “So that’s what that smell is.” I giggle, standing up as he follows.

We stand in the kitchen with a shared glass of milk and twenty mini cookies, “No offense love… but this is the best thing you’ve ever made.” I laugh, trying not to choke on the chocolate in my mouth.

“I’m not that bad of a cook!” I slap his chest teasingly even though I know I am.

He gives me a little smirk, shoving another cookie into his mouth as I scoff, “You said you love my pasta!”

He’s laughing with me now, “Yeah- the buttered noodles!” I roll my eyes, attempting to walk away before he corners me.

He’s smiling still, it makes me smile. Lando’s hands on my hips hold me still. “I love you.” he presses a kiss onto my neck, “And your cookies. And your pasta. And your shit food.” I'm giggling as he covers me in kisses.

I try to move back but am intercepted by he countertop, he’s tickling me and knowingly making me laugh and squirm. He slows down, meeting my eyes.

“I love you too.” I say, my hands on his arms, “You and your pickiness.” He scoffs then, laughing and leaning in to kiss my lips.

He’s warm and comforting, just like my magical cookies that seemed to heal him. When his lips leave mine, his head drops to my shoulder; his curls brushing against my neck as he leaves a soft kiss onto my shoulder.

[vilsoo]

nanami taking care of his sick wife ᯓᡣ𐭩 ⟡ ˖ ࣪. tags ; fluff, domesticity, very light smut lol

nanami, who actually went out of his way to leave work early just to buy groceries to make you soup for lunch and buy some medicine from the pharmacy. he couldn’t bare seeing you groggy and disoriented from your fever. you couldn’t even make it out of bed this morning. when he got home, he saw you laying on the couch this time draped in all of the warm blankets and a wash cloth over your forehead, napping peacefully with your water bottle beside you. it was a good thing that he reminded you to stay hydrated.

nanami, who makes his way to the kitchen to start on making the soup for you to wake up to. he prioritizes your health so much that he would never want to stress you out. he’s devoted to be by your side, including in sickness and in health, just as you are for him. this gentle, passionate love reciprocated between you two is the type of love that leaves you numb in reverie. he would check in on you while waiting for the water to boil, changing the dampened wash cloth from room temperature to cool, and caressing your face ever so gently just to not wake you.

nanami, who is the first man you see when your eyes flutter open. his smile was stronger than any antidote or medicine, strong enough to make your fatigue temporarily subside. you instantly melt from the way he can mutter sweet such things, all while the lovely smell of warm homemade chicken noodle soup fills your nose. he would even hold your frail hand, ever so gently kissing it.

“how are you feeling, love?”

his delicate touch and the warmth of his hand sent a blossoming sensation within your body. you couldn’t help but smile, the glimmer in your eyes rapturing your husband. “a little better,” you mutter weakly, sighing deeply. “i never thought you’d see me like this…”

“in sickness and in health, remember?” he reassures, his thumb caressing your hand. “now, are you feeling hungry? i came home early to make you soup. just wanted to make sure my pretty wife gets taken care of.”

“i love you,” you murmured fondly. “thank you so much.”

“i love you, too... god, i want to kiss you right now. i couldn’t go on my day not kissing you at all this morning.”

as much as you tried to protest because you didn’t want to get him sick, your loving husband did not care. contagious or not, if he gets to spend more time with you and not have to go to work for being sick, he’d allow it. your husband would wrap the blankets around you as you stood up to walk to the dining table for the soup he prepared. he’d make sure you were still staying hydrated with water and your favorite energy drinks. and after you took the medicine he bought, you were feeling slightly better. your skin wasn’t as hot and your body temperature had decreased, but you were still groggy. you wanted to stay on the couch, but nanami insisted on cuddling with you. he still wanted to hold his endearing wife in his arms; it was a routine every time he comes home. he’d still feel devoted to hold you and feel your body on his, sick or not.

his excuse was that if you had just gotten sick in the morning, eventually he’d have to be as well since you two live together— and if you were both sick, he’d have to cuddle with you. you tried to protest once again because you genuinely didn’t want him to suffer any symptoms, but he kept insisting that he didn’t care. he’d let you sit on his lap and lay on his chest, his slick hands roaming about your warm body as he kisses you softly. he wouldn’t be so aggressive because of your fatigue, but with his burning rapacity and his desire to please you, it was difficult to take his hands off of you.

nanami, who had your body writhing in heat and your hips gyrating from the way he toys with your cunt and fingers you so good. you both sat by the fireplace in the living room, the passion between you two mystified into the air. you loved the way his fingers felt inside you; throwing your head back on his shoulder in pleasure and your moans becoming more urgent with each thrust, that such intense orgasms were enough to make the blood rush in your veins and release endorphins, improving your mood and soothing the fatigue from your fever. oh how you both loved each other so deeply, that for every moment he spends with you, it was pure bliss to him.