#that's all i want really

[little-bumblebeeee]

who wants to be the

To my

[crabsnpersimmons]

Crabs this is Noa you need to help me I'm in love with your restaurant AU I need more I love food and you combined it with the dca I can't I ca

Uhh what's in the menu? :D

HEHE ME TOO NOA!!

legit every meal i have is inspiration for this AU 😂

as for the menu, welllll most of it is based on Hong Kong style cafe foods (because that's what inspired me at first), but the specials change regularly and go into many different cuisines.

the boys also specialize in different things too:

Sun specializes in healthy, nutritious meals. he’s also the most interested in learning all about food, from farms to cooking methods. if you ask him to surprise you, he’ll discretely scan you and determine what your body needs and will cook something accordingly.

You are surprised as a bowl of soup appears in front of you, held by a gold hand. You follow that hand to it’s owner—meeting Sun’s blank eyes staring down at you.

“I… didn’t order a soup,” you stutter.

“You appear to be low in iron today,” Sun responds in his monotone voice before turning away, then adding, “There is more if you need it. It's on the house.”

Without a further word, Sun returns to the kitchen.

The smell of the soup wafts to your nose and you decide to dig in. It’s a fairly clear broth yet surprisingly flavourful—the kind of soup that takes more than a day to properly steep and simmer to extract all the flavours from it’s ingredients. Despite that, the soup was clear of any dregs at the bottom—just the way you like it.

You feel your face warm—from the soup or from the attention, you’re not entirely sure.

You might take his offer for seconds.

Moon specializes in everything indulgent! juicy fried chicken? the cutest pastries? he loves them all and he’s always experimenting with new recipes. sure he recognizes the importance of a healthy meal, but sometimes you just need a boost, yknow? food is more than fuel, it can be something to be enjoyed.

When you stepped into the restaurant that morning, Moon could already tell you were off to a rough start. He watched from the kitchen window as you ate your breakfast, staring dryly at your phone.

And then he had an idea. Ooooohoohoohoo, clever Moon!

“Gooooood morning, starlight,” Moon walks over to your seat at the bar table. “How’s your breakfast? Would you like some dessert with it?”

You groggily look up from your phone, and nod, barely registering what he said. Then before you know it, Moon is gone and back again with a warm plate of french toast.

Moon wasn’t kidding when he said dessert—the toast is thick enough to be a cake! When you cut off a manageable bite, you realize it’s actually two slices of toast, sandwiching a gooey filling.

You take a bite and you’re surprised by how delicate and rich it is. The toast melts in your mouth and leaves behind the aroma of butter and eggs and the delightfully chilled sweetness of condensed milk coats your tongue.

Your expression must betray your reaction, because you see Moon smiling back at you so sweetly.

Eclipse is the main front of house, waiting tables and charming customers. and he’s also the barista, preparing a variety of drinks (and sometimes putting on a bit of a show while doing so). he can cook as well, but he leaves it mostly to Sun and Moon.

You have no idea how you got here. You decided to stop by the restaurant, only you forgot that today was their day off. However, you’ve learned that the chefs live in the apartment above the restaurant, which explains why Eclipse found you and let you in.

Now you were seated at the empty bar table, while the charming barista prepared you a drink.

“Here we are,” Eclipse gently places a glass in front of you.

Based on the colour, the ice, and the straw, you take a guess, “Iced coffee?”

“Half correct,” Eclipse chuckles and pours himself a glass as well. “It’s one of my old boss’s favourites. It’s called ‘yuenyeung’, a mixture of milk tea and coffee.”

“Oh, so ‘yuenyeung’,” you grimace at your butchered pronunciation, “means ‘tea-coffee’, I guess?”

Eclipse smiles. For the short while you’ve known him, you have learned you do not trust that smile. “No, ‘yuenyeung’ refers to a pair of mandarin ducks that look very different, male and female. They’re a symbol of conjugal love—a pair of two different elements coming together as one.”

You freeze as Eclipse chuckles and clinks your glass with his. “It’s more fragrant when it’s served warm, but it’s too hot for that today. I’ll save that treat for a day you need the warmth.”

He’s right. It is too hot for this today. You take your glass and sip on the straw, Even chilled, the aroma of black tea, coffee, and smooth milk is strong on your tongue.

Even after downing your entire glass, you still feel too hot.

[s0up1ta]

toxic yaoi or something idk i haven't watched gravity falls

[redsray]

the funniest part of any Robin meeting the JL is that every Robin is so distinctly different from the previous one in terms of personality and vibes that the league literally gets backlash. and like, I don't blame them. not to mention that they are non-meta children that dress as a traffic light and fight crime alongside batman in gotham on a nightly basis. i'd also be a bit concerned. Batman, literally The Night of Gotham personified in the League's eyes, coming into a JL meeting: This is Robin, my crime-fighting partner. 11-year-old Dick Grayson, dressed in the brightest primary colours possible, vaguely hidden murder behind those eyes, never stops moving even for a moment: Hi! Superman: That's a child. That's-- Bats that is a child. You let a child--? Batman, deadpan: You try to stop him. Would you rather he try and murder a grown man with a wire?

Batman: This is Robin. 12-year-old Jason Todd, with the biggest grin on his face, about 3 books in his hand, stars in his eyes and a distinct street-kid drawl: Hey!!! Green Lantern: That's ... that's a different child. What?? Jason: I stole his tires :) Batman: Tried to. Jason, stage whispering to the League: basically did. Green Lantern: that is a different kid, right?? I'm not seeing shit??

Batman: This is Robin. 14-year-old Tim Drake, bo staff clutched in his hand, a wary and tired expression on his face, more on the quiet side, the literal walking definition of don't judge a book by it's cover: hello Flash: Where do you even find these-- Tim: I found myself.

Batman: This is Robin. 17-year-old Stephanie Brown, literally blonde, with a shit-eating grin, eyes full of nothing but mischief and the most explosive personality you've ever seen: hiya!! Superman: I give up. Stephanie: I know, I have that amazing effect on people.

Batman: This is Robin. 13-year-old Damian Wayne, a literal wet cat that will hiss at you, has a sword, the most judgemental stare you'll get from a teenager, ready to jump anyone there: Green Lantern: WHY DOES HE HAVE A SWORD?! Batman: ... he came with the sword.

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.

[atalana]

but seriously i do find it so funny that ford was like OH GOD MY PRECIOUS REPUTATION after bill possessed him around other people for all of one night

and then he gets back to this dimension after thirty years and this is now the photo the press associates with his name

[eatyourdamnpears]

I’ve been in such a funk since the concert. I’m not even sure I enjoyed myself that much. maybe I did. I don’t know

[romanceyourdemons]

so much love for characters who are desperately unsure whether they’re a good person, a redeemable person, a person worth saving, but are absolutely certain that they’re a grade a hottie

[detentiontrack]

When Mabel comes out to Stan, she’s really scared that he’s going to reject her and have an issue with it, so she’s emotional and asks him if he still loves and supports her and he’s just like “??? Kid I’ve been telling you all summer I’m one of the LBTGs” and then it’s her turn to be like “wait what??” because she thinks he had never mentioned a sexuality before, and it turns out Stan had been constantly telling the kids that he’s “ambidextrous” because he thought it meant the same thing as bisexual.

[uncanny-tranny]

I think so many people are so deeply alienated from themselves that they have no clue how to exercise their free will and autonomy. For some, this alienation runs so deep that they are afraid of their own autonomy and humanity. It is completely understandable why one would have those feelings, but it can be worrisome.

I want to help others who feel this way, so here are small things I have done to exercise my free will:

Add "guilty pleasure" songs to playlists and actually listen to them (I have a ton of late 1990s-early 2000s music I listen to now proudly that I never listened to in the past out of shame)

Getting the décor item, bath set, bed spread, ect. in the patterns you like, even if it's "childish" (I got a dinosaur-themed wastebasket from the kids' décor section and I adore it)

Taking a new route to get to a place you go to often

Eat dessert first

Celebrate well, and often

Collect things that are "odd" or don't seem like an "acceptable" thing to collect (somebody on my "for you" page collects dandelion crayola crayons and it was so cool!!!!!!)

Incorporate one new piece in an outfit you wear frequently (e.g., a new chain, a necklace, ribbons, bracelets, ect.). Challenge yourself to add onto the outfits if you feel up for it.

Sing along to songs without worrying that you sound "good" or your intonation is completely accurate

Read a book from a genre you weren't allowed to read as a kid (comics, thrillers, mysteries, anything!)

Walk without having a specific destination or goal

Pick up a new craft without expecting yourself to master it or to ever be "good" enough. Get your hands messy.

I don't want to shame anybody for not feeling as though they have free will or that they are exempt from exercising it. However, I wanted to give ideas so that you might read this list and find your own ways to express your intrinsic autonomy and will. You deserve to be a person, to feel alive, not just living. That is what our lives are for.

[astrowarr]

after watching several povs, there's something so striking about the way mumbo died.

he dies at home, first of all, which is notable in its own right because so much of his time was spent running about, usually in pursuit of kills. he dies with grian, too— to a thing grian created, no less, but it isn't actually grian's fault for once.

mumbo dies in that tall tower and when lightning strikes, from all across the server, everyone looks. their eyes land on that tower, and everyone is watching. even in grian's perspective, you can see everyone at renwood mound, lined up and staring. those at the bamlands looked on too.

they didn't see mumbo die, but they saw grian's grief. grian, who, throughout this season, has seemed cruel and untouchable to those outside of his circle due to his involvement with and knowledge of the wild cards. they watch grian immediately crumble under the weight of mumbo's death; several of them even explicitly comment, "look at grian, he's grieving, he's in mourning."

i like to think that, until that moment, grian was almost god-like in their minds; now, though, he's the quintessential concept of humanity. grief can be religious if you do it right, after all. even beyond the grian aspect though, isn't this just the most despairing omen of what's to come?

i mean, there's something about this image of a man fallen from grace, crying out as he holds the mangled corpse of his friend in the home they made together, high in the sky, on display for all the world to bear witness to. and the world did bear witness, be it with pity, horror, joy... it doesn't matter, because they saw.

the canary curse has been broken, but this was a fittingly foreboding, tone-setting image that did a stunning job filling its shoes

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF 4 bullies really were monsters in his eyes..

[vulpinesaint]

pspspspsps poetry mutuals come here... new quiz... making you the patron saint of something...

[yeyinde]

winter soldier au with John Price who was held in a gulag for three years and comes home wrong. comes back snarling and furious and threatening to rip apart the goddamn world if they don't give him what belongs to him, what's rightfully his, if they don't give him back his fucking wife, right this second—

the only problem is: John's ex-wife remarried. she's halfway around the world, and Laswell knows John enough to immediately squash that idea right away. but if not her, then who?

and then you walk into the room—a newly hired secretary that John has met less than a handful of times; a pencil pusher barely even a blip on the radar—but he pounces. snatches you up before any of them can react, tucking your bemused face into his chest, cradling you tight; possessively clutching at you as Kyle tries, and fails, to calm him down.

"you don't know her, sir. just let the girl go—"

it's met with a nasty snarl. all gleaming, bloodied teeth. a stranger in a familiar shape as John drags you further away from them. "this is my goddamn wife."

his declaration is met with shock. you're definitely not his wife. you barely know him much outside of a several, threadbare exchanges where he breathed down your neck about filing the wrong reports, and the cluttered mess of your desk ("a goddamn eyesore—"). you're not even friends. and in all honesty, you didn't even think he liked you that much. so. wife?

but he's beyond reason. his head a mangled, trenched mess of artillery fire and Makarov's torture. three years, Kate breathes. three whole years.

you can tell, almost immediately, by the look on her face that this—that you—will become a necessary loss in the grand scheme of things. and when John lets her close enough to whisper into your ear (having somehow convinced him that he can just walk out of here with you, his fucking wife, leaving for the marital home (and bed) that he demands from them for this brief stalemate)—she hurriedly tells you about their plot. this high risk, no reward scenario of playing along. not that you have much of a choice.

keeping John Price as close to them as possible was worth more than something as flimsy, as malleable as your agency, your autonomy. and if the way to do it was to let a brainwashed man play house with you, then so be it.

she, at the very least, offers a grim sort of smile even though you can see her working out the mechanics of it all as she makes promises on your behalf. things like, yes, John, you can leave with your wife. she missed you so much, John. she's so happy you're home.

"we kept your wife safe for you, John—" no one seems to react to the violent way Johnny has to be dragged out of the room by Ghost, kicking and screaming at the injustice of it all because th' captain wouldnae do this! don't do this t'him!

and John—if there's any part of that man still inside him, he doesn't let an inch of it show—just nods, lip pulling up into a snarl as he bullies you closer to his chest, and growls about finally getting you home.

"I'll keep you with me," he rasps, blunt fingers spreading wide over the fill of your body. a mad, twisted gleam of possessiveness, ownership, burning in bruised blue as he familiarises himself with this body he claimed as his. "right where you belong, wife."

(the word comes out in a bite. snaps around you and sounds just like mine.)

[kimdokjas]

though the movie might be cancelled, yuri on ice will live forever in our hearts. thank you yoi fandom, it's been real ♡

[hansoeii]

I probably won't finish this piece any time soon, but I wanted to share the unfinished version with you anyways!