#like yes allergies ARE worse. But Also

[tj-crochets]

The options with the * are the ones I've already scanned, and all but the blorbo are sewing patterns (I've already shared the blorbo sewing pattern)

[eldritchmochi]

its absolutely hilarious to me how much of coping skills involves feederism as a kink considering how much i personally hate eating

[swampgallows]

i know it was bad before covid too but people seem more adamant than ever about denying that they're sick or need to go to the doctor. people chest coughing for over a month and go "it's just a cold, im just about over it actually". colds last like 3-4 days, a week at most. also never understood why people say "just" the flu, it's like saying "just" bronchitis or some shit. legit i think ive only had the flu maybe once in my life as a child, who are these people that think getting sick 5-6 times a year is normal.

yes i know american healthcare system whatever i also know people have become delusional and amnesiac about what typical health looks like. "just my allergies acting up" "some kind of weird summer flu" "oh its just this mysterious thing going around" all of your immune systems are in the gutter. if you've had covid more than twice you are functionally immunocompromised. i would say well over half the US is in this boat yet they all are more willing to believe there's some "new" thing popping up getting them sick instead of the one giant global pandemic infecting them multiple times and has now made them susceptible to the everyday things their immune system could normally fight off. if you're more fatigued than usual, your memory is shot, randomly feel out of breath or have your heart racing, or find yourself struggling with tasks that used to be simple, you may even have long covid. as others have said we're now four years out from the start of covid and are in the finding out stage of fucking around, and i fear the next 5 years are only gonna get worse as unmitigated spread and repeat infections continue

[togegiri]

✎ᝰ ❛ THIS SWEETNESS IS JUST MADE FOR YOU ❜ — yuuta okkotsu. toge inumaki. megumi fushiguro. yuuji itadori.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ content. The many woe's of being inlove is valentines day, so what kind of sweet treat do they make for you?

₊˚⊹ ᰔ warnings. gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. (name) will be used. petnames is used (my love - yuuta , darling - megumi , my sunflower - yuuji). tooth rottening fluff.

note. kind off early for valentines day but I wanted to write it anyways! happy early valentines day people <33

— THE PREPARED TYPE. 乙骨憂太 | okkotsu yuuta

[ "happy valentines day (name), here you go, usually girls give out the chocolates but I wanted to do the giving! I didn't want to buy just chocolates so I made chocolate chip cookies! I hope you love them my love.. y- you don't mind if I call you my love right?" ]

A gentleman to the boot. A week before valentines he has already been planning on what to get for you. He wanted to give you something meaningful that you'll love. Thus the idea of baking cookies came in.

A chocolate chip cookie to be exact. Although he doesn't know baking that much, he asked for his friends' help, pandas, toge, maki. Although when he asks for their help all he gets is “I don't know how to bake,” or “bonito flakes” in toge's language. 

Thus he opted to get baking lessons which was worth it because he learned how to bake cakes, and different types of desserts that he can surprise you for any occasion.

While in the baking lessons he was a little slow but the teacher didn't mind at all. He had to apologize a lot due to the small clumsy mistakes he does but nonetheless he was able to learn through his mistakes.

He gifts you the chocolate chip cookie with a white paper bag and light pink ribbons and laces. He tried his best to make the packaging look adorable which ended up to be cute and great! 

He also bought you some pink tulips. The day of the valentines day he was worried you wont like the cookies he baked or worse your allergic to something in the cookie. So he had to ask in advance if your allergic to anything before he gave it to you.

When he gave the cutely packaged cookies and the tulips he gave you an awkward smile. As you feel your body feel hot as he blushed a little seeing you take the cutely packaged gift and the pink tulips.

“Oh uh… umm since you said you dont have any allergies h- here! happy valentines,” he gives it to you as he awkwardly chuckles feeling pink dust forming in his cheek. Slowly you take the cutely packaged sweet treat, “I hope you love it how much I loved making it for you.”

“thank you yuuta,” you smiled, giving him a small peck in the kiss, making his eyes widen. His whole face covered with his blush, “your welcome my love,” he gave you a kiss back. Yuuta feels as if his mouth has been overfilled with the sweetness of the chocolates as he looks at you. He truly is a lovesick fool isn't he?

— THE AWKWARD TYPE. 狗巻棘 | inumaki toge 

[ “uhh… k- kelp… tuna tuna,” ] 

He's a hopeless romantic. Although quite awkward as I'd like to think when he's in love, he'll love hard to the point he feels nervous and shy around them. He had to take three shopping trips in three whole days because he feels as if the things he bought are not too worthy for you.

Unlike yuuta he just followed a youtube tutorial and winged it the day before valentine. It was a lot of trial and error. Yes he woke up panda just to force panda to try the first failure of his creation.

Panda thought he was poisoning him after eating all of his onigiri. Yes the cursed corpse puked it out after. Toge has to be up all night to make those chocolate soufflés for you. The ending was a messy kitchen, a panda who looks like he's about to enter heaven and see Jesus, and a perfectly done chocolate soufflés.

He wrapped it in a minimalistic way, a red wrapper and a pink ribbon on the chocolate soufflés and made a small cute note on it drawing a chibi of yourself and him holding hands. 

He hopes the chocolate soufflés were to your liking and the love letter reaches through your heart. He'll hide under his collar once you get the gifts he has given you. He wants to run away, kiss you, or give you a kiss then run away after! 

In short he doesn't know what to do and just short circuits but tries his best to stay where he is as you took his declaration of love.

As you take the valentines gift you smile at him seeing the love letter attached to the wrapped treats. He blushed a little trying to hide his face with his collar as you read the letter he wrote.

Dear (name),

I love you, I know I can say it aloud like anybody can. I do hope my actions can speak through the words I badly wanna say. I love you dearly. 

You smile at him, bringing him to a hug. The cursed speech user's eyes widen at this as he awkwardly hugs you back putting his head on your shoulder feeling his whole face hot and embarrassed. “I love you too toge!” He nodded his head as he hugged you tightly making you giggle hugging him back tightly. 

Words may not be said but actions are much louder to toge's love for you. 

— THE COOL HEADED TYPE. 伏黒恵 | fushiguro megumi 

[ “I hope this isn't much, I hope you aren't disappointed, I'm not much of a flower type of guy but I hope this love letter will suffice, happy valentines day d-.. ahem! darling..” ] 

He knows how to bake and is a perfect boyfriend at this point. Although he's quite stoic and a private person you loved him nonetheless. As for valentines day presents he already planned them in advance.

He personally doesn't like giving flowers but prefers to give you a love letter or love notes. He made some chocolate truffles for you but when gojo saw him baking he immediately annoyed megumi to let him join baking which he denied multiple times.

Gojo ended up eating some of the truffles as megumi forced him out of the kitchen. The way he decorated the packaging was a simplistic style. A cute pink wrapper with red ribbons decorating it. As he gave it to you, same with the cutely decorated letter scented with his favorite perfume.

Particularly he wasn't embarrassed more on the nervous side, afterall he value what your likes and dislikes and wants the best for you. 

“Tell me if you don't like it, I'm gonna remake the one you like, okay?” he says making you chuckle as you take the gifts he gave for you, “silly megumi, I'd eat it even if I'm allergic to it if it came from you,” 

The raven haired male chuckles, “stop being an idiot I would never let you eat something you're allergic too,” you grin as he gives you a small peck in the cheek as you hugged him close. 

— THE SUNSHINE TYPE. 虎杖悠仁 | itadori yuuji

[ “I got you tons of things, if I'm being truthful I almost forgot about it so I kinda panicked and bought lots of things! I hope you like what I get for you, my sunflower!” ] 

He almost forgot about it until nobara asked what he'll get for you. His eyes widened as he looked at nobara in panic as the brunette girl looked at him in defeat. He forced the girl to help him as nobara fighted for her life to not be in yuuji's shit. 

Ended up helping him in the end as they looked around a patissier shop where he ended up buying brownies for you. He also requested for the workers to wrap it in a super duper cute way! pink wrapper, red ribbons, with white frills, and cute heart designs on it.

He also bought you a cute hello kitty plushie, a bouquet rose and a letter. Yuuji Itadori is going all out for this because he felt guilty and almost forgot about it. He will say it to you too once he gives his presents to you. Apologizing, looking like a kicked puppy.

You chuckled as you let it go, making the boy grin and pepper you with kisses.

“I’m still sorry I almost forgot about it…” yuuji whined hugging you close nuzzling his head onto your shoulder making you chuckle, “it's fine, I still love you yuuji, I don't mind if you forgot about it,” the pink haired male pouts. “That's not good, if I forget any event I'm gonna be angry at myself for that because I want to shower you with all my love.”

“You already do those yuuji, everyday you shower me with your love,”

“that's true I still want you to know I love you with every anniversary, valentines day, birthday, christmas—”

“yeah, yeah, I got it yuuji,” 

He chuckles, hugging you closer, loving the warmth you two make.

“Good!” 

[carmenized-onions]

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.  

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning.  Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

 “How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

[diariesofababy]

do you enjoy wearing diapers 24/7? 😊 if yes what is the best part of it for you? Would you recommend diapered lifestyle 24/7 for non-incontinente people, if the idea of being diapered 24/7 / incontinence is still in their mind? 😁

I do and I don’t but that’s because I don’t have a choice being a bed wetter I wake up just wet and during the day I will look down and my pull up is soaked without me knowing. It gets worse over time to

I will say it does help me feel baby faster and cozy in the winter. I also only like my clothing now when I wear a diaper it gives me more booty

I wouldn’t 100% recommend being 24/7 with no breaks because it does come with negatives but if you are doing 24:7 I can at least give tips as it’s been 4 years for me

I find it best to take breaks if you can let your skin have a break

Negatives : • Skin discolorations • Skin scars • Overheating • Having to constantly shave • More sensitive skin (for me it’s more a risk as I have a allergy to plastic adhesive tapes)

Tips : • Switch between cloth and plastic diapers • Diaper Cream and powder every time • Witch Hazel on wipes for woman’s PH Level • Change more frequently you can drink more water to fill them faster

[moonselune]

Okay since I'm back in the bg3 brainrot, do you have any general dating/fluff headcanons for karlach? Love of my life fr

These are a bit rambley but hey ho

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach fluff headcanons !

Karlach who is so used to sleeping with just Clive tucked under one arm, now has you and Clive !!!

You treat Clive like your shared child, making sure he's tucked in when you go to bed

Clive has to be turned around when you, y'know.... fuck.

Definitely the girlfriend to find something cool and have to just show you

"Hey I saw this cool rock and I thought of you, because you're cool and you are my rock"

you cherish that rock

If you can't carry your pack because of all the cool rocks she's given you, she will so carry it for you

loves doing things for you

even if its the littlest things like tying your shoelace

LOVES LOVES LOVES bathing with you in the river

Ultimate fun time

sex and we get to play mermaids??? yes please

If Karlach sees you crying she is immediately also crying

it could be over nothing you could just have allergies and she is full on sobbing

she would attack the flowers for you

making it slightly worse as the pollen spreads everywhere but its the thought that counts

If you ever made Karlach anything, like jewellery or even just patched up her clothes for her she would wear it with absolute pride

ADORES IT when you give her hickeys, she is just beaming

and loves it when she gives you some as well

you are an old married couple but in the best way

just so wholesome

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh Karlach my beloved, I love you so much. Hope you enjoyed it! -Seluney xox

[lixzey]

Letters

warnings: mentions of therapy, grief, child abuse, keeping a child in a basement, starvation and malnutrition of a child, mentions of bruises, mentions of child protective services, bullying, and hospitalization

a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The last five letters will be the same, so heads up!

The Thirteenth Letter

Timothée stared out into the window, taking a deep breath as the plane soared through the clouds. He knew he had to continue reading the rest of Y/N's letters, as painful as it might be. He was terrified; there was no denying that. The mere thought of a young Y/N going through more suffering made his stomach churn, but he needed to know more. He would find her, protect her, and be there for her in any way he could. He couldn't change the past, but he could certainly make a difference in her future. He had to be there for her, to listen to her, to support her, and to show her that she wasn't alone anymore. Timothée swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure that she felt safe and loved. 

Timothée took another deep breath before opening the thirteenth letter, dated August 11, 2023.

Dear Timothée, 

Sorry, this letter took a long time to write. I got caught up in therapy. I have a new therapist; her name's Gina. 

She asked me about the letters since I had mentioned them to Julie before and they were written in my file. Gina asked me if the letters were helping me, and of course I said yes. She asked if I could show her one, and I did. She took it and ripped the letter into pieces, right in front of my eyes. I honestly didn’t know how to feel; I just stared at the pieces of paper on top of the table.

Gina said a lot of things about coming to terms with my past in a natural and slow process and that maybe these letters weren't helping as much as I thought they would. Writing to you was riling up those painful and bad memories, only making me feel worse. She also mentioned that false hope wasn’t good for me, which is bullshit because I don't really hope for anything anymore.

I know you won't reply. I know you won't even read any of my letters. Hell, I know you won’t ever receive any of the letters I wrote. I just like to pretend that you do, that's all. 

After the 'session', Gina gave me a pamphlet. It was 'How to Deal with Grief and Coming to Terms with Loss'. It was shit, really. Because one of the bullet points says to talk about your loss with another loved one. Funny, because all of my loved ones are dead. So here I am, talking to you, because you are the next best thing. 

So anyway, here's the continuation of the story of my fucking life. 

I still spent the rest of my days down in the basement—locked up alone, scared, and nearly dead. I was sickeningly thin from malnutrition and dehydration. Bruises littered my body in all shapes and sizes; I had scratches all over—out of frustration and skin irritation from allergies, since I didn't get the chance to fucking clean myself. Every day, I prayed for some kind of miracle to set me free from that living nightmare. I didn't know how much longer I could survive in that hellhole. I could hear my aunt's voice upstairs every night, laughing and carrying on as if I wasn’t three feet under her house. It made me sick to my stomach to think about how she could go about her life while I suffered down below.

It didn't get any better, until my eleventh birthday came around. Honestly, I didn't know how long I was down in the basement. I had lost track of time, but it felt like I had been down here for years. Then one day, my aunt just dragged me out of the basement and shoved me into a bedroom upstairs. It turns out a social worker was looking for me. I was eleven, and the school year had just begun, but I wasn't at the local school, so child protective services got worried. My aunt got to work fast; she made me look as if I wasn't abused—that I was a normal and happy kid living with her. She did a fucking great job, I'm not gonna lie—she covered each and every blemish on my body with foundation and concealer—fucking impressive. She bought clothes, toys, and everything a child would need just so she could avoid getting arrested for child neglect. 

When the child protective services came again, I was forced to act like everything was alright and that I was in a happy home. I desperately wanted to tell the social worker the truth. I wanted to scream so badly and just run into the social worker's arms and beg her to take me away, but I couldn't. 

My life got a little bit better after that day, though. My aunt was forced to let me stay in the room upstairs rather than the cold basement downstairs since child protective services visited me every week. It was easier for her to let me stay in the bedroom than to make me look decent every time. I was never to leave the room unless necessary, not that I wanted to leave the room with my aunt around the house. I still got the bare minimum from her—I still got her scraps of food, but it was better than nothing. 

Then middle school happened. 

At first, I was excited to make friends with kids my age; I never had any growing up since I usually stayed at home with my parents and there weren’t really any kids in the neighborhood I grew up in. So, naturally, I thought that making friends would be easy.

I was too fucking stupid to believe that it would be easy. I mean who was I kidding? Middle schoolers were fucking mean—well,  not high school mean, but you get the point. I was bullied relentlessly, and I always dreaded going to school; it was torture. The kids in my class always made fun of me, calling me names and treating me like shit. I was the freakishly thin girl who always wore baggy clothes that no one wanted to be friends with. There was this one time when this girl—her name was Claire—tripped me in the hallway, and I crashed into the janitor’s cart. Bleach and other cleaning chemicals spilled everywhere—on my skin, on my clothes, and in my hair. It burned my skin so badly that I had to be taken to the hospital to get treated properly. Until now, I still have burn scars on my arms and neck area. I had to wear long-sleeved shirts to cover up my arms, though in the long run, the burns weren’t the only reason why I covered my arms up.

I just wanted a normal fucking life, but life decided to push me into a living hell. Was that too much to fucking ask? I’m so damn tired, Tim. I don’t think I can live like this anymore. I’ve been through so much, and what’s written in this letter isn't even half of what I’ve gone through.

I think it’s about time to stop writing, don’t you think? As if you’d answer me, God, I never fucking learn.

Maybe Gina does have a point. Maybe these letters really are making everything worse.

All my love, 

Y/n.

Timothée sighed, folding the letter and tucking it back in its envelope. He wanted to let her know that he was—in fact, listening—granted that it was a year late, he was listening. The pain and suffering she went through were unimaginable, and the guilt he felt for not being there for her when she needed him most was killing him. If the letters had just arrived earlier, he would have done anything to make it all easier for her. 

“I hope you're still here, Y/n. I hope you didn't give up.”

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @imnotoverlyobsessive @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @lizzxoxo @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @danni-phant0m @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @bambikitten @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @abruuinlove @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

[datesinredink]

Yan turtles (rottmnt) with an m/c that’s allergic to reptiles/turtles? Idk I just think it would be funny (not Donnie trying to get m/c into getting injections to help the allergy-)

ANON I AM SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BCIRBIFUNUIEH

Super duper sorry i ended up procrastinating really hard and i guess god took issue with that because he struck me down with multiple QAs and a Feelings crisis but the tests are over and I finally managed to sit down and finish Raph's part- seriously i struggled with him and mikey a lot but i guess it was kinda worth it in the end because Raph has an entire 110 more words to his part than the other three- hopefully it makes up for my lack of knowledge of his character. Enjoy!

Donnie

“My inspiration for this device was simplicity-”

Yeah you’re getting a hazmat suit until your allergies either magically disappear or he figures out some other solution

You’ll probably have to do a lot of tests, including possibly a blood draw but I’m no medical expert- since I headcanon Leo to be the medic he’ll probably end up helping too

After he finally puts the pieces together, he’ll start working with Leo to engineer a medicine to help suppress your allergic reaction, and maybe even be able to get rid of it entirely

Also anon you’re very right, you may be subjected to becoming the human pincushion of allergy shots while he figures it out. It’s safe. No it won’t kill you. Yes he made sure. Just, uh, maybe don’t ask your best friend their opinion on needles for a while….

In the meantime, he completely hates the current situation. He finally meets someone that he’s (mostly) fine with touching him, and they CAN’T TOUCH HIM without a HAZMAT SUIT. Just the worst. Awful times.

Normally, he’d have you around almost always, but, unfortunately, that’s currently not ideal.

Starts trying to keep things extra clean around the lair for you. Also everything that can be sanitized is sanitized. Good luck in the cleanliness prison after you get kidnapped later on.

The best about keeping distance, since he already wasn't super touchy before this whole situation. While he might tap you on the arm or something once or twice, it's nothing serious and you won't have a problem with him on that front.

Going back to the hazmat suit real quick, while it does do its job well, it's definitely not the most comfortable thing to wear, and you'll probably end up getting too hot pretty quick, so chances are you won't willingly be wearing it all too often. Donnie may occasionally force you to wear it, but otherwise you (usually) just... don't have to.

Leo

He’s the one who finds out you’re allergic. It was an accident he SWEARS. He only wanted to give you a pat on the arm when April first introduced you to them! How could he have known you’d get hives where he touched you?

At least he knows how to treat it. He managed to guide April through treating it, after which he sulked while rereading some Jupiter Jim comics.

Has a personal grudge against your immune system for daring to make you allergic to him. How dare your cells get mad about him.

When Donnie tells him that he might have “a fix, bro”, Leo jumps at the opportunity- oh thank god, he can finally hug you!

…Doesn’t mean he’s not super bad at focusing on actually working on it. Don’t worry, he’ll fix it eventually, just have a little patience.

Honestly, this is your chance to BOOK IT away from them, because none of them are as clingy as they will be after your allergies are cured/suppressed, which gives you more time to leave New York before things go from bad to worse.

Anyway, Leo’s about as clingy as he can be without physically clinging onto you for hours on end. Constantly hanging around you, like a ghost haunting their killer, except you’re not the one who kills people.

He might end up using your allergy to try and manipulate you away from his brothers. Mikey keeps forgetting to keep distance, Donnie’s suffocating and makes you wear a hazmat suit, and Raph almost treats you like a sopping wet cat that he has to take care of, so why not just stay with him? 

As much as he likes to criticize Mikey for forgetting, sometimes, particularly early on, he gets a little too close, and your allergies flare up, and while he does genuinely feel kinda bad, he will exaggerate his remorse for sympathy from you. He genuinely does try and apologize for it later, and he probably portals you two somewhere nice and gets you a couple of trinkets you like or find useful.

Mikey

Absolutely heartbroken!

His love is allergic to him! This is awful!

2nd most panicked when they first find out. Is their new friend ok? Did they mess up?

If you have a low tolerance for pain/allergic reaction symptoms and cry a little he probably will too. High empathy, man…

He’s really understanding after everything’s resolved and they figure out you’re allergic to them. He tries his best to keep a fair amount of distance between you and him, but he tends to naturally be physically affectionate, so there may be a slight adjustment period. He really doesn’t mean harm though.

He occasionally tries to bring you something from the mystic city that he thinks would be safe- a small figurine, maybe a sketchbook if you also like doing art, if he manages to bargain for/steal a piece of jewelry, he’ll also give that to you.

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s pretty big on physical touch, but since that’s off limits (for now) he’ll try to show you affection in any other way he can think of

Mostly quality time. He likes to take you with him when he explores through the sewers/city to spraypaint a couple of blank walls, and he’ll probably get you to try it too, and regardless of your skill level he’ll tell you it’s great

After Donnie and Leo finish making the cure, Mikey squeezes the LIFE out of you- he doesn’t mean to practically strangle you, but he’s fairly strong and he got excited, so he does feel a little bad afterwards.

Will decorate the hazmat suit Donnie gave you if you let him. He'll put stickers on it that match his and draw fun patterns that may or may not relate to him in some way. Maybe the spots he has, or the face on his knee pads. It's pretty endearing, even if his brothers may occasionally glare at him. In Mikey's opinion, if they're really that jealous, they should add something themselves.

Raph

And the award for most paranoid goes to….

Ok but really, he’s the most overbearing about it. This probably isn’t a surprise, but it’s still something I've gotta mention.

You don’t really have to worry about Donnie making you wear the hazmat suit- he gets it, not a fun sensory experience- other than a couple stand-out occasions, but you will have to convince Raph fairly often that you’ll be fine without it.

To be fair, it’s partially because he also forgets not to touch you sometimes, and while he’s better about it than Mikey and most of the time Leo, he’s also self-aware and protective enough that he’d rather be safe than sorry.

If you’re having an allergic reaction, he’ll either get Leo/Donnie/April to help you, or go find the hazmat suit Donnie made him a while ago when Splinter got sick and then help you himself

There’s a chance he might not do great though, as he’s not always the best under pressure and tends to panic when the people he loves are hurt or in some sort of extreme situation, especially when it comes to you (seriously, he treats you like a porcelain doll), but you can be reassured that he’ll do his absolute best to make you safe and comfortable.

Feels terrible after, pampers you a lot after the ordeal. Every time, not just the first few.

If he wasn’t the one who caused it, then he’s definitely pissed at whichever of his brothers made your allergies flare up. He won’t kill them, and he won’t lose it and drop kick them into tomorrow (yet. If they ever intentionally trigger your allergies he might snap some bones) but there will be a noticeable irritation and tension for at least the next few weeks between him and them.

He’s super excited after Donnie and Leo finish the allergy shots! I personally headcanon him to be the second touchiest of the brothers (Mikey being the most touchy, of course) so there’ll be a lot more casual touch between you two after. Hugs, headpats, you get the idea. If you try to tell him to stop, he’ll be very upset, though doing his best to understand, he will try to respect your wishes.. Before going right back to it after a week tops. Sometimes he genuinely does forget, after all, he does have a fair amount on his plate, but sometimes he does intentionally wait until he thinks he can get away with it again before jumping right back to how things were before. He’ll vehemently deny it, but no matter what happens, you’ll likely never really get him to stop for an extended period of time.

[uva124]

ASHA (MY AU)

Emmmmm how the hell do these types of blogs get started?

This post is just going to be me rambling on about what I want to do with Asha.

So let's get started?

INTRODUCTION: -As I said before I'm still developing this story (damn I don't even have an outline) but I wanted to start this rewrite (or plan it a little) because of something that really frustrates me about Wish, literally in a movie that commemorates 100 YEARS OF THE MOST IMPORTANT STUDY OF ANIMATION IN THE WORLD and the topic of art has not been given the importance it deserved, you know? It's like, yes, Asha shows her sketchbook in certain scenes, but then what? It literally seems like it's just for decoration, damn, Disney could have done the same thing as with the Miles Morales sketchbook in Spiderverse, but I'm already getting distracted from the topic, so one of my goals with this was to emphasize how important art can be , and not just the drawing, but all the forms that exist of it.

-So Asha is a little different from previous Disney princesses.

2. HISTORY:

CHILDHOOD: Yup! I'm joining the angst ship, I don't really blame anyone *cough* *cough* Flicker *cough* Bo *COUGH* *COUGH* ANNY *cough*, damn my allergies are getting worse. So Asha at this stage is quite cheerful and positive, basically like Rapunzel, Moana, Anna and this princess trope, however this takes place in the modern world (the movie would be set like in the princess and the frog movie only the world It's a little more modern) Asha discovers her passion for drawing, and as she grows up she wants to dedicate herself to that and is full of a lot of dedication and determination, but what would happen if we corrupted her dreams?

PUBERTY: “It's fine as a hobby…but it won't work Asha”, “Don't you like doing other more…useful things?”, “Come on, you have so much talent, are you really going to waste it on this?” , “Have fun without having a future” “Really this is more important than your other things Asha?” ,Yes, I am adding this, Asha wants to dedicate herself to animation, so Asha at first, like every Disney princess with character, ignores these types of comments, which came from anyone in general, some said it with good intentions and in a calmer mode and others in a more aggressive way (you know, being idiots), but when you receive this type of comments your entire life, it will somehow affect the protagonist, and it will only get worse *Insert evil laugh*

ADOLESCENCE: I didn't mention it but I plan to include Asha's family, or at least at the beginning, she was living with her parents Sakina and Tomas as in the official movie (I'm still debating whether to add Sabino or not), her father gets sick as in the original movie, so Sakina and Asha do their best to help him, then Asha has less and less time to concentrate on practicing drawing and in general her hobbies (I also want to emphasize that here Asha was doubting more and more about drawing as a professional way and started to despise her talent a little bit, not completely but that little seed had already been inserted in her head), her father was her biggest motivation, he was a dreamer like his daughter, her mother was more down to earth but equally supportive of her family, Tomas was always the first to see his daughter's drawings.

So continued the life of our protagonist, studying, working a little and drawing in the little time she had, and in those jobs she met Magnifico and Amaya, I'm still debating how I'm going to write them, but I'm sure I want them to do a scene with Asha that I'll explain later, for now let's continue.

One day Asha's father can't take it anymore and dies…….. all Asha could do was watch her mother running to her room because she really didn't want her daughter to see her in that state.

With that you're probably wondering, “Well, Asha can get a motivation to keep being a dreamer and pursue her dreams to follow her father's legacy rigth? “ Well actually………no, Asha in my Au unfortunately had already endured TOO many comments that referred to her dreams of being an entertainer or artist, even her mother had referred to it in a not so positive way (no, Sakina is a good mother, she's not perfect, but she cares like every mother about her daughter's future) , and without her major support in life, that…..eso ended up deciding that she would just give up on those dreams… or at least until a certain day.

CURRENTS: In the movie Asha is presented as a girl who studies a career that she does not like for the most part, but she says to herself “It's too late to redeem herself, there is no turning back, I just have to continue and everything will be fine, for me and my family”, she also works as an assistant to Magnifico and Amaya, during years of having met them she was getting closer little by little, in fact they knew the protagonist's family for some years but they had distanced themselves, they also “tried” to help with Tomas' illness, but as it was shown before that did not work out, now they gave Asha this job opportunity and she is not going to waste it, since she still has to help her mother.

Let's say that Asha doesn't draw much anymore, she still makes small sketches because, well, when you are really passionate about something you keep doing it despite the adversities, right? Even unconsciously (you're understanding what I'm trying to say, right? ), besides, it's not like she still deep inside has not stopped wanting to fulfill her dream, although she every time says that making drawings will not lead her to anything or just saying “it's a hobby that will not lead me to anything useful or important” is just to have a constant reminder that she might not make it, that it's not worth it, that no matter how much she loves to create and draw, it just doesn't make sense anymore.

Remember I told you about a scene between the villain duo and Asha? well this is what I have in mind:

Asha somehow or another is going to end up asking Magnifico and Amaya for help, which would lead to Asha maybe not working with them anymore or something so she can pursue a small glimmer of hope of fulfilling her dream of being an animator (as I say before, this post is just me rambling), the villain duo simply proceed to manipulate the poor girl by making snide and manipulative comments about her “insignificant goals” and her “wasted talent”, if Asha herself was already quite doubtful about these issues, this just makes her worse, she's lost, she doesn't know what to do, she's afraid of her future, she doesn't want to let her mother down, she doesn't want to end up being a disappointment (maybe I overdo angst, it doesn't matter, it's important for ✨character development✨).

Now a multiversal cosmic thing happens (that I'm still thinking about) but the point is that my Starboy (Haedus) and his 2 protégé/small brothers (Nembus and Naos) arrive, at first Asha is VERY SCARED AND CONFUSED, I mean, this is not possible right, she must be confused from crying so much - I mean this only happens in the movies and fantasy stories she saw as a child right?! (lmao)

At first she doesn't get along with Haedus, not at all, with the little ones at first she is a bit distant, but little by little she starts to develop a great appreciation for them, the little starlets (and then Haedus) throughout the story bring back to Asha that dreamy and positive side of her.

Also Asha is not the type of person who makes derogatory comments when it comes to the goals or dreams of other people and her friends despite having received them all her life, no, she is not that type of person, of course everything she has lived through makes her more sarcastic or pessimistic at times, but she doesn't want someone else to feel like her, she doesn't want anyone to go through what she went through, and this is only reinforced with the arrival of the stars.

I have to mention that Nembus and Naos make Asha remember how she was as a child: cheerful, positive, dreamer, and seeing how the antagonists want to hurt them, how that can destroy the hopes and illusions of the little stars, that just makes her more determined to defend the little ones at all costs.

“They still have dreams, and they can still fulfill them, that's why I won't let others destroy those dreams, not like me.”

3.PERSONALITY:

-Sarcastic -Negative to a certain extent -Empathetic -Indecisive -Calm -Organized

FINAL COMMENTS:

That's all I have for now, I hope I haven't bored you, as I said before, this is all just my rambling, I still don't have an outline or plan for this, anyway, I hope you had a good time reading this, see you next time!✨✨✨

[astro-pioneer]

my nosferatu!

lifeless skin, sharp fangs, and unusual allergies? sounds like his type. 『dottore』

! sumeru spoilers !

@n0tamused !!! :33

barely cares about any harm that happens to you

in actuality he's basically the reason you even HAVE injuries in the first place

his segments barely view you as a partner, moreso a test subject that can't die unless some extreme outside factors interfere

that or a simple travel companion, seeing as though he allowed omega to bring you to sumeru for company

the only evidence that you're not just a test subject is the consistent pet name dottore will drop and the fact you're not dead or altered

no one does anything though, mostly because it's dottore of all people

you're not the perfect of the bunch either, if the puncture wounds on every segment say anything

and they've heard stories from his subordinates that you have a temper when bothered (especially when it's day even though you can't see the sun??? ok edgelord)

everyone on the sumeru expedition was basically holding their breath the whole time

lord of darkness going to the hot and dry desert??? with the sixth harbinger??? scary thought

you gave the night vendors hella business so the locals can't really complain

two psychopaths insanely in love, i guess

"Ah, that hurt, Dotte." The subordinates who were also on the deck of the ship stared in shock as the segment of the Second casually ripped your arm off. The agent closest had to suppress a flinch from the blood splattering from your arm onto his boots. Despite verbally saying you were in pain, your expression barely changed. The segment, Omega, simply grinned, eyes crinkling behind the mask as he observed. What, exactly, he was analyzing, no one knew.

"Perfect! Now here-" he thrust the disconnected and lifeless arm to you, "-heal yourself. Quickly now, we're almost to Sumeru." The same subordinates could help but watch in disgusted interest as your arm merged itself back to your shoulder. "Now, darling, let's go change your clothes. They're filthy." Oh, wow, no one even noticed! Almost like it was your fault.

In new clothes and donning your iconic parasol, you freely express your scowl to everyone on the dock. You did not like Sumeru. It was second only to Natlan on your list of the worst nations. The heat was tolerable compared to the desert, but was still horrendous in your eyes. Thankfully, the half pint Sixth was on a different boat from you. You'd have more to frown about if it was shared.

Dottore carefully guided you off the boat and onto the sturdy walkway when it docked. You muttered a word of gratitude before he let go. "Stay in the city." The threat was well hidden as he tapped your forearm. You rolled your eyes before quickly heading to the room you and Dottore were to stay in. His plan was to head to his old research location early in the morning. Just the thought of being stuck travelling in the desert during the day made you groan. The agent assigned to you struggled to match your stride as you left for your temporary room.

The harbinger in the sixth position avoided your gaze. After the gruesome trek ("I'm not being dramatic, Dotte."), your day continued to get worse. The little puppet boy was the whole reason you were out of Sneznhaya anyway. Plus that attitude of his has not landed him on your good graces ("I've lived longer than you've been planned, little puppet. Don't tempt me to do something to you.").

If only your lover could've been less greedy and mental. Or, maybe if he was more organized. Yes, him being more organized would be better. His segments leaving important documents and experiments in your bedroom annoyed you to no end when they barge in to grab them. If be was more organized then none of you would need to be in his old office. You twirled your parasol in your hands with your iconic scowl. Apparently you and The Balladeer had something in common.

Segment Omega watched you get dressed. The two of you were taking a stroll together when the sun was starting to set. The plan to distract the common folk of Sumeru and allow The Balladeer to ascend was already in effect, but be could tell you were getting increasingly irritated. On the walk, you overheard chattering of a night market happening. He knew that nothing he could say would deter you from going.

When he first thought about this, his aggravation got the best of him and, sadly, he took it out on your hand. He would never ACTUALLY kill you; you were too precious both to his research and the primary segment. Your trusted agent watched from behind as the feared and powerful Second fretted over how to hold the shade maker while you moaned about how badly your hand hurt to hold it yourself.

Now, however, as he helps you choose what to wear, he couldn't help but think it over. Having you out would be excellent. Word of that pesky traveler duo being in Sumeru and sticking their noses into his affairs had already spread through the dispatched fatui. He didn't need much time to prepare their welcome and a quick chat with you would give him more than enough. "Dotte, help me choose what to wear." Whining should not be coming out of a being as old as time.

A crushing kiss was all your Dotte left you with before the two of you split ways. The streets were basically empty. You could feel the blond and little white haired child staring at you from around the wall. You could also sense that little dendro archon too. Using that silly Marionette's creation was smart. However, they posed no concern to you. Your goal here was to empty your pockets and force your Dotte to carry everything you purchased. A fine punishment for what he's put you through this trip.

Sometimes, you wonder how the harbingers are able to stay in their ranks, as loose-lipped as they are. "Are you sure we should be going up to them? They're a part of the fatui!" The little white one didn't know how to lower her voice. It was also not hard to overhear, as the restaurant was basically abandoned. There was no background chatter to cover their voices or footsteps. Nahida (should you call her Katheryne?) analyzed the way you moved and acted. "Hey, Nahida! Are you even listening to Paimon?" To the archon, you didn't care about what was happening in Sumeru.

If anything... "There's no garlic in this, right, darling? I have a horrendous allergy to it." ...you seemed to care more about spending than anything else. She didn't miss the big bag of mora you passed to the waitress with the order to split it with the chef. I guess being a big shot of the fatui puts you in a higher figurative pedestal.

"Do you know what's going on?" The archon of wisdom was not stupid. It was obvious you weren't human. Every vendor you went to and brushed against when paying thought about how your hands felt as though they were freezing (and about how loaded you were, but that's besides the point) and how your skin looked sickly. They just assumed you were infected with something, but Nahida knew better. And watching as your sharp and dangerous fangs glint in the streetlight confirmed it all for her. But, strangely, she also knew you wouldn't do anything to them.

"'Going on' with what, exactly, little archon?" The little white child - Paimon, you mused silently, gasped, hiding behind the blond hair of her companion. What annoyed her was that she couldn't read what you were thinking. It was too overlapped, too soft to catch. The only thing that was consistent were thoughts about one person. It was a little insane, if Nahida was being honest. "Besides, instead of worrying about me and what I'm doing here, shouldn't you three be running to the Akademiya? Being late to a scheduled meeting isn't the best look. Especially for the esteemed traveler."

It was interesting to see how the blond's face morphed. Your taunts as well as your affiliation weren't helping the urge to start an altercation. "Tata, little children." Your little finger wave made Paimon stomp her feet. "Oh, darling, could I also have some desserts as well? To go, though, along with the other entrées. Greatly appreciated." Another bag of mora being placed in the girl's hands had her squealing all the way back to the kitchen.

You were still awake and active in the room when your Dotte met up with you. Most of your items were already placed in your bags. The only goods you kept out were the ones you personally wished to give to your agent. Just because Dottore hates his subordinates does not mean you hate yours. The rest were for your Prime segment. Even though he split himself into different periods of his life, in every single one he was your Dotte just like you were his...salvation, so to speak. You were proof that what he was looking for was plausible. That was the only thing that was continuous in all of his segments.

"Oh, my nosferatu. How I missed you so." Sometimes, all Dottore wishes to do is merge with you. Tear you open and live inside of you, and you in him. He couldn't help but tightly grip your wrists as he hugged you from behind, forcing your arms to follow his in wrapping around you. "The traveler and their little detective group of Sumerians have found out too much, I'm afraid. I'm sending Omega home with the rest of the deployed fleet. It's up to you on whether or not you'd wish to go."

His heartbeat echoed into your silent chest as you leaned into the blue haired man, making him hold all of your weight onto his body. "You still have yet to get the Gnoses, and as much as I love hanging out with Omega, spending time with my Dotte is better." He allowed your fangs to casually slide into his wrist, his outer coat barely pulled back to avoid the blood that leaks from the puncture wounds.

The mention of his segment made him hum, swaying both of you side to side as he thought about all Omega did. You were used to it - obviously, seeing as though you've stuck with the doctor - and it was mostly directly ordered by him. However, conflicting the same injuries on you for no reason other than to just do it annoyed Dottore to no end.

He wrapped his freed arm around your neck, finger tracing over your notched ear. It never fully healed after all, he mused. "Oh, my darling." He didn't continue but instead cupped your face. His mask and gloves were off and presumably on the bedside table. He didn't care that blood still flowed out of his arm. All he cared about at the moment was how the only thing in your eyes was him. How it should always and forever be.

Watching the Omega segment depart with all of the other fatui members sent a sense of foreboding into you. The god of wisdom might be least inexperienced, including how she was held by the sages of her nation, but from what you could see from her, she was cunning. Your Dotte already had that issue covered. "It's ironic how the soundwave doesn't work on gods or vampires. I guess any non-human is immune." His footsteps were daunting to Nahida.

"Say, if my segments were an insult to the concept of life, how would you label my nosferatu? And all of their unique ways of documenting to help my experiment?" She couldn't possibly guess what your assistance in creating the segments were.

"If you mean the vampire that's been with you, I don't see how they're a part of this."

"Oh, but you should. You see, they have also defied your so-called concept of life multiple times. Their whole existence is a disgrace to your philosophy. Now, it's not my place to discuss their upbringing. I've got to keep my title as their "Precious Dotte" after all. Not like spilling their silly little secrets would change that."

Their talk seemed to take forever. Your agent faithfully stood beside you, arms crossed behind his back. The new brooches connected by chains matched him well. "Do you miss being out on the field to collect debts like your fellow agents?" You could hear his surprised cough. You were not really expecting a reply, especially when there was no knowing when Dottore would be back. His obsession with everything you made him order all of his subordinates to not converse with you in his presence. However, this was your subordinate. So who cares what he orders?

His boots shuffled against the shaded walkway. The silence stretched on for a few minutes. You spent the time twirling your parasol out of boredom. "Sometimes," he huffed. He no longer flinches when your eyes slide to land on him. "I'm still able to go into battle, especially when you unintentionally stir up trouble, my lord." You barked out a laugh that quickly turned into a short cough.

Dottore's footsteps start to enter your ears. "Unintentionally is a nice way to put it, my dear. Maybe I'm doing it on purpose to keep you on your toes." He followed as you stepped out of the shade, meeting up with your blue haired lover who already walked past. "You let go of your segments, Dotte." The doctor's red eyes curled in distaste behind his mask. Your agent casually blended himself into the background behind you.

"It was all to fulfill my side of the transaction for the Electro Gnosis. Besides, dealing with all of them was draining. A little annoying to clean up after, too." The agent casually glanced down with his eyes at his boots. Despite taking hours to scrub his boots, there was still a faint hue of brown on the tops. He could agree with the harbinger on the clean up comment.

Dottore stared at you with utmost devotion as you spilled your lustless desires. Your shared room back in Snezhnaya was messier than usual due to all that spending you did in Sumeru. In between your statement, you expressed your woes about the temporary loss of his segments. Even through the dramatic complaining you did, Dottore still watched you move around as though you were his own personal god to worship. His very own Nosferatu to your Dotte.

[amethystsoda]

lol was wondering how long it would take as a plus size person who likes cooking for someone to make a comment like this 🙄🙄

New research

Now look, I don’t owe this anon any medical history. But I feel like I gotta defend myself I guess, so buckle in…

My weight gain started with puberty and hormones. I was literally a twig as a child. My mom says they couldn’t find pants that fit me.

I was always plus size as a teen. But I rode my bike a lot as exercise. I didn’t have control over food because my mom decided what and when I was allowed to eat (and I was homeschooled). I didn’t often get snacks. The only time we usually cooked was me and my dad at night.

I have a vivid memory of my mom pulling my shirt up in the back and grabbing at my back fat telling me I was getting stretch marks.

During this time, I also developed Hidradenitis Suppurativa flares in my armpits, thighs, under boobs etc. Not as a result of being fat, but because of hormones and effed up genetics.

During flares, it hurts even to move and brush up against them. Putting band aids on sometimes makes it worse because I’m allergic to the sticky material and my skin breaks out worse.

In college I lost a ton of weight because I had to walk everywhere. Buuuut, senior year I had a lot of emotional trauma happen and moving back in with parents after college made it worse.

After college, I had major allergy outbreaks and stress related symptoms. I also got into a car crash (not my fault) that severely messed up my muscles and mobility for a while. I would often get nauseated and couldn’t eat at times because of internal injuries healing.

Also my family made me do Keto/Low Carb for a while around 2018, but then I was just starving myself, unhappy, and plateaued. I was straight up a low carb influencer for a while, but stopped when it wasn’t sustainable.

Even while low carb/a smaller weight, I still had to deal with hidradenitis flares. Because, again, hormone related, not weight based.

So now, after a long battle with myself, I try to eat balanced meals (yes, even with carbs and sweet things in the morning), get exercise (my job has me lifting heavy stuff a lot and I try to do DDR or go on walks), and try to combat allergies and mast cell activation (which has been my current biggest battle and I’m learning more about histamines).

I have no intention of being on my 600 pound life, but just because I enjoy food doesn’t mean I deserve to be yelled at.

If my genetics decided that I was a twig and I made honey toast, you wouldn’t even say anything.

So I’m going to continue fighting for respect for plus size people, making meals that I enjoy and that nourish me or treat me, and fight for my own healing and health journey.

You don’t get to tell me that I can’t love myself and you certainly don’t get to decide what I eat.

Go take your hatred elsewhere because it’s not going to work here.

[myriadparacosm]

Opposite Hanahaki AU

I remember reading from a cute manga (need to find the name) where you have hearts appearing on your skin whenever you are in love, it's like an allergy and your body might shut down (not death but like you feel faint and all). I consider it as the opposite of Hanahaki because it's caused by your love (even if it's requited) because it makes your feelings obvious and a bit uncontrollable. It can leave you once you grow up but there is no real condition - you can be in love with someone, date them and more but the hearts might still be here. It's pretty common but still embarrassing.

There is probably more to use there but I'm not sure I remember everything.

ANYWAY JAMES POTTER WITH THIS HEARTS SHOWING OFF ALL THE TIME.

James first gets them when he meets Lily at Hogwarts and almost faints at the shock. It's really violent, which makes him think that Lily is his soulmate and all, so he needs medications and it stops the heart from showing. BUT IT COMES BACK WHEN HE FALLS IN LOVE WITH REGULUS BUT TRIES TO HIDE IT. He isn't embarrassed about the hearst and to be in love (this simp loves love) but Regulus is Sirius' brother, who knows how this will go, and he probably has /no chance/ and if he messes up then who knows how that will go.

Regulus got them because of James at the start of his first year and took a treatment right away but it never went away. He also doesn't want to test it so he takes them every day without a question; it's worse when your skin is paller than a bone. Because of that he got a bit of a heartless reputation (it's more rare to not have the condition once than never). He assumes James is still in love with Lily even without the hearts around anymore.

Remus of course has the hearts for Sirius, but he grows used to the feeling and loses the condition by itself because of years of pining and all- EXCEPT WHEN HE TURNS INTO MOONY WHO GETS HEARTS ALL OVER HIMSELF WHEN PADFOOT IS AROUND. Just a scruffy grumpy werewolf covered in hearts that you can see even with the fur because it's disparate and some spots stopped having fur because of the scar tissues.

Now Sirius is more than often the cause of someone getting these hearts and yes he takes it as a big compliment. He never got them and rants about how unique that is before he gets a violent attack when he spots Remus back for their fifth year and is almost taller than some seventh years. Sirius did have a small crush on him before but it never hit him until he teases Remus that everyone will try to climb him like a tree and oh Sirius is definitely up to climb and- He cracks his head on the Hogwarts' Express floor because of how violent the hearts appeared.

[jamiesfootball]

Ted taking Beard to his friend who is a dentist? It's not just helping Beard not be in pain. It's helping him get his life back.

I was (for almost a decade) missing a tooth. I did realise how much it held my life back until I came into enough money to have it replaced.

(I actually had an idea in one of my fics that the first thing Beard does after getting like Money is teeth stuff because I have a friend who is in long term recovery that did that. He got implants to replace his partial)

This, yes. I’ve known a lot of people over the years (including myself) who’ve just dealt with long term tooth pain because the amount of money it would take to fix whatever problems they had.

With Beard, who I’ve always headcanoned as coming from a low income background, I can definitely see a combination of factors leading to him putting off doing anything for a long time.

Then with Beard staying with Ted when he got out of prison-

“Can’t help but notice that after dinner your plate’s looking a little closer to half full than half empty. Now I’m certainly no Emeril, but then I also don’t remember you being a real picky eater back in college either. It’s not an allergy is it?”

“No. It’s fine. Just a little tooth sensitivity. Got worse in prison.”

“Uh-huh. And how long you had that?”

“About twenty years.”

Ted answers with his eyebrows. Beard hardly notices it; he told Michelle he’d do the dishes, and that supersedes whatever personal lore of his has caught Ted’s interest this time. He doesn’t see how Ted’s eyes soften, the way he sighs with his shoulders, the gears rattling into territory where good men should fear to tread, less they get their boots dirty on the low-level grime Beard’s been trailing behind him his whole life like Linus with his blanket.

He doesn’t know yet that Ted’s never turned over a stone without wanting to shine it up and take it home.

Standing in Ted’s house, under the weight of Ted’s generosity, with one singular task to focus on, Beard doesn’t even wonder to himself what Teddy might be up to, digging a leather phone book out of the junk drawer and slinking off with the receiver of the cordless phone in hand.

Rookie mistake.

[basshole-astard]

hey you, blogger. do you find yourself in incredible pain daily? even weekly? despite being in your 30s, or younger? despite doing everything that's ""supposed"" to help?

On top of being in incredible pain, can you or could you at any point in your life:

bend yourself into funny positions like putting your foot behind your head

can bend down without fanfare and put your palms COMPLETELY FLAT on the floor

do your elbows bend a bit backwards? how about your knees?

you can bend your pinkies backwards 90 degrees

you find your joints are incredibly weak and garbage; wrists often in pain despite doing stretches; shoulders/neck always hurting no matter how good your posture is; can’t get down on your hands and knees because doing so is Ow Ow Oof Ouch

you have gastrointestinal issues that you cannot link to food in any way (yes, for real,)

headaches/migraines – especially unexplained, but even if you do have an explanation (for real)

never had enough room in your mouth for your teeth

vision prescription gets better and then gets worse again and you find yourself very confused about how??? why????

have really bad allergies including “I can’t use x soap it gives me a rash for some reason” or other similar “coming into contact with certain things makes me break out” (it’s called MCAS, it’s often comorbid)

stand up and your heartrate spikes and/or you get dizzy (that’s called POTS, also comorbid)

Then, hi, you might possibly have something called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, or EDS; specifically the hypermobile subtype (hEDS), which doesn’t yet have a known genetic marker and goes wildly underdiagnosed in patients, partly because the things they test for hypermobility are pretty limited, partly because doctors don’t know what it is, partly because doctors would rather diagnose you with a different condition (if arthritis or fibromyalgia diagnoses/treatment didn’t help, well...!) because if it sounds like a horse it’s PROBABLY a horse (but it could be a zebra)

Of course having any one of these does not an hEDS diagnosis make, but if you have multiple on my above list? Multiple of the list I am including below the cut? It’s worth looking into. You can continue on reading to see my brief overview, or you can head to www.ehlers-danlos.com to do your own research; they’re a great resource!

"I have a lot of these but not all of them" that's still worth looking into! I've only got five on the above list, and i definitely still have hEDS! Even three is worth considering!

more symptoms and info below the cut, if you want to hear it from a fellow blogger who was diagnosed at 25 and found the diagnosis Extremely Eye Opening as to why i was always in pain and Various Other Issues

---

General hEDS info: EDS itself is a genetic disorder that affects your connective tissue, which in general makes your joints weak and your ligaments weaker. hEDS is the most common subtype, in which you have a lot of EDS traits AND hypermobility BUT none of the genetic markers for the 12 other EDS subtypes.

“Wait, but this thing I can do is normal, my whole family can do it!” or “my mother’s side of the family is all like this!” hEDS is genetic. It’s possible to have it if your parents don’t, but VERY unlikely. So unlikely, in fact, that having immediate family history of hEDS is one of the 3 main diagnostic criteria for it. (You can still get diagnosed if you hit the other 2, but they only ask for 2/3.)

“Surely it can’t be so hard to diagnose that doctors don’t notice it!” my sister did not find out until she was in her 30s, because one of her friends has hEDS, and when my sister was bemoaning how useless doctors were, her friend was like “....hey those sound like MY symptoms, have you considered you might have hEDS?” (Which, due to it being genetic, is how my mom and I found out we also probably had it.) Also, much like ADHD, doctors are wary of diagnosing people with it, afraid they’re just trying to get the “good” meds.

“What good does a diagnosis/research even do me?” 1) an explanation for why you’re in pain all the time 2) knowledge so you can avoid doing things that would hurt you (you have to be SOOO careful with most forms of exercise!) 3) it’s a disorder that warrants higher pain meds than what you can get OTC, so if you are seriously in a lot of pain all the time, and would like to not be...

I’m gonna put a more in-depth list of symptoms below. If you have any five of them, I highly suggest you poke around www.ehlers-danlos.com and do your own research, because even if you aren’t in a position to get a clinical diagnosis right now, even suspecting you MIGHT Have it is useful, either for an explanation for all the things that seem wrong with your body that couldn’t otherwise be explained, or to know that... hey, you should really be careful with what kinds of physical exercise you’re doing, because your risk of injury for some sports is WAY higher than it is for people who don’t have hEDS. More on that below, as well.

-

Symptoms list time:

*THIS IS ALMOST DEFINITELY A MARKER OF hEDS*

hypermobile joints

unstable/weak joints

joints that dislocate frequently

CHRONIC PAIN

stretchy and fragile skin (classic EDS marker, but can show up in hEDS): do you bruise easily? Do cuts take forever to heal?

your parent(s) are also like this (it's a genetic disorder!! Chances are you got it from one of them!!! Love to hear “oh my hips do that too!!! Didn’t realize it wasn’t normal” thanks mom.)

"my parents don't have hEDS tho" are you sure. like. my mom didn't know until my sister found out she did. this thing is *wildly underdiagnosed*. Mom’s in her 50s and had doctors diagnose her with arthritis and fibromyalgia, the treatments for which didn’t help her because it wasn’t what was actually wrong

-

*OTHER THINGS THAT OFTEN COME FREE WITH YOUR hEDS*

chronic fatigue

gastrointestinal issues (if you thought you had IBS, but hit any of the hEDS things, you should consider, well, an hEDS diagnosis; gastroparesis is a common comorbidity)

dysautonomia; i don't have this but it causes things like POTS or "heartrate spikes when i stand" or "i get dizzy when i stand and lose vision briefly"

headaches (and/or migraines!)

MCAS, aka really bad allergies. your nose gets offended at the slightest bit of pollen. the weirdest materials give you a rash. you can only use one soap because all the other ones make you break out. etc.

...ADHD. I’m not shitting you. It is so frequently comorbid that in the UK when you test positive for either ADHD or hEDS they will immediately test you for the other. Connective tissue exists in your brain, as well, so I guess if your connective tissue just doesn’t function properly...

-

HEY CAN YOU PUT THIS IN NON-CLINICAL TERMS FOR ME

sure! did you, at any point in your life:

- able to bend into funny positions like put foot behind head; especially as a kid (hi! that's me!) but of particular note if you can still do those things now

- stretches like butterfly or crossing your arm over your chest just... don’t feel like stretches? (my sister)

- could you bend and without effort place your palms flat on the floor? can you still now? apparently most people struggle - without regular stretching - to touch their toes, let alone put their palms *completely flat* to the floor. that's hypermobility baby!

- elbows bend a little bit backwards? knees?

- can you bend your pinkies back 90 degrees?

- consider yourself double-jointed?

- shoulders/neck always hurt? and like your muscles are SOOOO tight in your neck all the time? hey guess what: the thing EDS does is make your body produce less collagen, which makes your ligaments weak as fuck, and so your muscles are constantly spasming to hold your head up. this is why you're in pain. this is why working the knots out never helps and they always come back. no, this isn't because you’re on your computer too much. your body was just built differently (poorly)

- stretching never seems to help? stretches make you hurt more??? or even: most forms of exercise cause you pain? yeah, most exercise/stretches are meant for Able Bodied People, not people with an underlying undiagnosed hypermobility disorder. You have to adapt them to your needs, and also stretches will never be the be-all-end-all solution to back pain like those funny little infographics on the internet will try and tell you. Maybe it is for able-bodied people, if you have a genetic condition that causes chronic pain, well,

- “but my shoulders are soooo tight tho” POINTING ABOVE AGAIN. they are doing that because the muscles have to overcompensate for your weak ligaments. Stretching does not fix this; you may loosen your muscles, but they will simply tighten again later. The real fix is doing exercises to improve your shoulder muscle stability – I’ll talk about some exercises below.

- have you ever thought to yourself "what the hell, i'm too young to be in this much pain all the time??" you're right! it might be hEDS.

- struggle with opening jars? weak upper body strength? randomly lose your grip on things you’re holding with your hands? “are you serious” I’m serious

- can't crawl on your hands and knees because that hurts your wrists and your knees?

- tangentially: did your parents say you crawled funny as a kid? army crawl? started walking way earlier than expected? yeah.

- you can't squat or kneel because ow oof ow your ankles ow ow your knees? yeah.

- is getting up from the floor hard sometimes?? despite being 30 or younger???? yeah.

- despite everything, and not trying to be, you're still kind of really flexible???

- like, you could do the splits as a kid without having to train yourself to do it?? you can still do the splits now without any effort at all?

- do you seem to get injured really easily? joints especially, or, again, bruised really easily.

- are you in pain right now? think about it. shoulders? back? legs? did you see the part where one of the diagnostic criteria for hEDS is chronic pain? yeah.

i could probably keep going.

-

~here's some specific connective tissue disorder things; i've included only the extremely "normal" ones that haven’t already been listed above and/or are easy to check yourself. you can find a full list at https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/what-is-eds/hypermobile-ehlers-danlos-syndrome-heds/ under "how is hEDS diagnosed?"~

listed above: stretchy/fragile skin. By stretchy btw I mean: can you pinch your skin anywhere and pull and get even half an inch away from your body? Neck/back of hand is a good place to try. If you can’t pinch your skin at all w/o hitting Meat then you don’t have this (I don’t, even tho my sister does!) but it’s worth looking out for and alone is like THE thing EDS (all types) is characterized by, so if your skin stretches, that’s of particular notice (but your skin not stretching does not disqualify you from having EDS)

stretch marks (they hate to use this if you're afab, but,)

"Bilateral piezogenic papules of the heel" uh when you're standing are your heels kinda. lumpy. like they got balls in 'em. that's what this is. (this is one of the things i have)

dental crowding (lol!!!!)

can you close your thumb+pinky around both your wrists? (steinberg sign)

when you make fists, thumbs underneath fingers, do your thumbs stick out past your fingers? (walker sign)

-

“Hey, I’m not really hypermobile - is it still possible to have hEDS??”

in theory! I’m only mildly hypermobile myself, outside of the “foot behind head” trick from when i was ten and the “can even now at 25 bend down and put palms flat on floor with no effort” i have… basically no other signs of hypermobility. Though, I guess “things that should be stretches like butterfly or touching your toes are super easy and not stretches for me” also counts as being hypermobile, huh. It’s just really mild.

And, you know, maybe you just have a different EDS subtype. EDS as a whole is not super well understood, so the chances you got a doctor who didn’t know what it was / didn’t want to order a genetic test about it is still, like, high enough it’s worth looking into, I think.

Basically every issue my body has can be drawn back to hEDS, and that kind of knowledge is insane but also really liberating. There is a cause for this. I’m not just in pain for no reason – or worse – because I’m “bad” at taking care of myself. I have a genetic disorder that makes it so my joints don’t work right and also I’m in pain all the time. It’s not necessarily happy, but at least it’s an explanation, instead of sitting there and shrugging and going “I dunno” about it.

So, sincerely, if even five of the things I’ve listed above sound familiar to you, I think you should look into it. Maybe you’ll research and go “oh, that doesn’t sound like me at all, actually”, but on the chance you, like me, start researching and find yourself going “THAT’S WHAT’S BEEN CAUSING THAT THIS WHOLE TIME????” I think it’s worth looking into. That validation is sincerely quite freeing.

-

“Ok, you've convinced me. Now what do I do?”

first of all research some more!

https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/what-is-eds/ <-- EDS overview and EDS subtypes! Maybe you have one that isn’t hEDS

https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/what-is-eds/hypermobile-ehlers-danlos-syndrome-heds/ <-- hEDS specific page

https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/heds-diagnostic-checklist/ <-- hEDS diagnostic checklist

https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/assessing-joint-hypermobility/#1667831445611-fb40d58e-84a4 <-- the checklist opens on something called the Beighton scale, which is explained in more detail here. **IF YOU DO NOT SCORE HIGH ON THE BEIGHTON SCALE BUT STILL HAVE MOST OTHER HEDS ISSUES, PRESS FOR DIAGNOSIS NONETHELESS. ENTIRELY POSSIBLY YOU ARE HYPERMOBILE IN AREAS THAT AREN’T TRACKED BY THE BEIGHTON SCALE. IT’S IMPERFECT AND PROBABLY NEEDS TO BE REPLACED BUT THEY HAVEN’T GOTTEN AROUND TO IT YET.**

https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/2017-eds-classification-non-experts/ <-- EDS things in layman’s terms, including comorbidities, like what I was talking about wrt gastrointestinal issues, orthopedic issues, chronic fatigue issues, etc, etc, etc. if you have issues with allergies look at the Mast Cell Disorder one. if you have that “heartrate spikes or I get dizzy when I stand” issue look at the Cardiovascular Autonomic Dysfunction one.

(ngl, sorry if its gross, but learning that hEDS often comes packaged with gastrointestinal issues was what really sealed the whole deal for me being convinced, despite “your sister has it and your mom almost definitely has it” being EXTREMELY damning evidence, because. I have had issues with diarrhea my whole goddamn life. I can’t tie it to food. It just curses me daily.)

second of all: talk to your doctor! or, find a doctor in your area that specializes in EDS. book an appointment, see what they can offer you. they can probably hook you up with physical therapy options (to safely strengthen your muscles to compensate for your weak connective tissue) or some pain management options! If you find the physical therapist is making you do things that make you hurt more and they repeatedly do not listen to you and your body, fire them and find a new physical therapist. 

https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/healthcare-professionals-directory/ <-- list of doctors. 

Third of all: find a support group if you’d like? There’s FB groups and Reddit groups and probably even more. Links to some of them here: https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/support/ 

YMMV because hEDS sometimes gets shit on by people with the other EDS subtypes, but at the very least, if a fellow Zebra is bitching about a doctor, you’ll know who to avoid. 

Fourth: Just… if you think you might have it, I want you to take a step back and reconsider the way you feel about yourself and maybe about the exercise you are/aren’t doing. I had a lot of compounded guilt about how I “wasn’t taking good enough care of myself” ; when you’re in pain all the time you sometimes start blaming yourself, especially if you, like me, find that exercise is difficult and painful and that stretching doesn’t ACTUALLY help, you quit doing it. But you don’t always quit thinking “well apparently if I did those stretches to prevent back pain that people always talk about, then I wouldn’t have any back pain!!!!!!” and that kind of mindset... sucks.

It's also not true. Like, not in general, but also especially not if you have hEDS. My back is in pain because my body was built different (poorly), NOT because I “wasn’t doing the right thing”.

So here’s my get out of jail free card, for you. You aren’t in pain because you aren’t doing anything to “fix” it. You’re just in pain. Sure, you can do some (specialized) (hEDS friendly ones) exercises to help combat it, or you could go take some painkillers, but... your pain is not a punishment for your decision not to exercise. Your pain just kinda... is.

Every generalized exercise advice you see online you need to take with a grain of salt anyway, because it was not written for people with a hypermobility disorder. If doing it doesn’t help, then you don’t need to push through the pain because “it’s the thing that’s supposed to fix everything!!!!” No no. There is no correct answer. There is no one-size fits all. If it doesn’t help, or if it hurts, then you shouldn’t do it.

I say this from a place of love. I spent several months trying to fix my wrist pain with stretches, and you know what never went away? My wrist pain. In fact, I’m mildly convinced the stretches made the pain worse. I kept pushing through it for ages, though, because I kept getting told it was supposed to help, and that it was IMPORTANT as someone who spends all day on the computer to TAKE CARE OF MY WRISTS via THESE STRETCHES WE HAVE HELPFULLY COMPILED ONTO AN INFOGRAPHIC FOR YOU!!!!! ...but that’s not how it works. The rules are a little different when you have a hypermobility disorder. You have to really look into exercises that are safe for you to do, instead of just assuming the ones that everyone passes around are going to help.

“Man, so even those shoulder stretches you see around might not help?” nope! They might not!

“What do I do then?” strengthening exercises... I’ll put resources / explain one easy one (for shoulders) below.

Also if you are someone with a job that requires sitting at the computer all day, and you’re worried about how that affects your health... Even if you just get up once every two hours and walk around / look at something else (even your bathroom!!!) for a little bit, that’s fine, that’s plenty, that’s more than enough. You don’t have to stretch your shoulders every 30 minutes. You shouldn’t stretch your shoulders every 30 minutes if that’s hurting you.

RESOURCES TIME

1) https://www.ehlers-danlos.com/resource/strengthen-your-hypermobile-core-a-home-exercise-approach-for-eds-hsd-and-hypermobility-jeannie-di-bon/ <-- webinar that covers at-home exercises you can do

2) and a whole playlist of at-home exercises (in reasonable sized video chunks) by one of the experts, here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLp-oNOmoFdAMFZB7XfpUZyvg_xzE3S3Ue – DISCLAIMER I HAVE NOT WATCHED OR USED THESE, SO WHILE I CAN SAY I DOUBT SHE WOULD BE FEATURED WERE SHE NOT A REAL EXPERT, PLEASE JUST. Err on the side of caution. If even one of these hurts you, try not to do it until you can talk with your personal physical therapist, which, yes, I realize requires Acquiring one first..... worth poking around tho, this person has a ton of tips on how to be careful with your joints while doing chores and day-to-day tasks as well, it seems. Actual advice that might actually help you instead of “oh make sure to stretch every 30 minutes!!!!” (might not help) or “have you tried jogging? Its free and easy!!!!!” (sport that is more likely to injure you thanks to the weak joints thing)

3) You can also search “exercise” on ehlers-danlos.com and come up with a ton of other pages/videos/etc of EDS friendly exercises produced by the experts that run this site.

4) That One Easy One I Can Explain In A tumblr Post: Bridging

Meant for core stability, but also works towards strengthening your shoulder muscles as well. Bridges!!! You can probably look up guides, or the lady I linked above has a video that includes her doing bridges about 4 minutes in. here's the video (link).

The version I do involves going up for five seconds, then down for five seconds, repeating for a minute (time yourself). Each day add on ten seconds (so second day you do a minute ten, third day minute twenty, etc) until you are eventually able to do it for three minutes. You do not need to go past three minutes. You are recommended not to. You are recommended to work up to 3 minutes and then continue doing it for 3 minutes every day.

(It doesn’t have to be every day nor does it necessarily have to be 3 minutes every time; if I’m tired or in a hurry I’ll just do two minutes. If I’m really tired I’ll just skip it and do it the next day. No big deal!)

That’s all I got. Thanks for listening to me rant. Hope it was enlightening at all!

[hyunjzone]

✰ “better?”

genre! fluff, sfw.

word count! 1.5k (1,581)

pairing! minho x gn!reader (i thinkkk this could be used with either fem or masc ??)

tags! established relationship again, hurt/comfort i think, warnings for mentions of puke, petnames such as sweetheart (to reader) also not proofread hhh

summary! you’re super sick and minho wants to help you out by showing his love for you through some acts of service <3

you sit at the edge of your bed. speechless. you’re thinking a lot, but you don’t really say a word. your feet dangle off the bed and your eyes are just staring down at the floor while you just think. minho woke up earlier, you’d stayed the night and he usually gets up early anyways. you hear sounds in the kitchen. as much as you’d like to get up and see what’s going on, you can’t bring yourself to move.

you feel sick. caught a cold the other day that had evolved into more. you’re ill. maybe it’s more of a flu now. usually, if it’s your allergies, it’s a bunch of sneezing and a stuffy nose. if you really do only have a cold, you typically have the same symptoms. it’s always a guess of whether it’s allergies or a cold, and this time new effects emerged. you have a cough, and you get frequent headaches. minho’s always trying to help you now, but it doesn’t seem to be getting much better. you were worried when you first noticed it last week that minho would leave, but he hasn’t, he’s been helping you through it. minho’s probably wondering what’s wrong with you right now. you hope he isn’t too stressed out about it. how would you repay the guy after this?

“get up,” you think to yourself. feet hit the ground, you’re standing but all you can do is stay there and not move. dizziness? a little. keep going. take some steps forward. you feel heavy, like when you’re in the ocean and you come out with your swimwear full of water. whatever, just keep going.

you make your way to the kitchen where you’d assumed minho was cooking something, maybe breakfast for himself.

“minho?” you ask, voice hoarse from sleep. his head turns and looks at you with a straight face before he breaks into a small smile. your head still hurts somewhat, you think that everytime you acknowledge it, it gets worse. “did you have a good rest?” he asks curiously while he works with some pans by the stove. you wonder what he’s making, so you ask.

“guess,” he replies to your question as he flips one of the pancakes on the pan with ease. he looks back at you after a moment of silence passes, smirking. “well, it doesn’t smell bad,” you comment hesitantly. minho snorts in his own playful manner, looking back at the pancake he’d just flipped onto the plate. “well, you better have an appetite with you, too, because they’re good. anything i make is good.”

“psh. sure.” a weak smile and a couple steps forward, your fatigue is much worse. you make your way to the island and rest your elbows onto it, weight leaning onto the counter. you close your eyes tightly for several long moments; when minho turns around, his eyebrows furrow.

“something’s wrong?” he asks— well, obviously, yes— and sets a plate with a pancake to the side while setting down a couple forks for the moment. he brushes hair out of your face. something’s definitely wrong.

your throat is sore and your head hurts. you try to swallow against it, but you can’t seem to get any satisfaction, and it just hurts to swallow. “headache,” you manage to mumble out. you open your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light. it’s already afternoon outside. why is he making breakfast? you slept in the same bed last night, you probably infected him or something. did you fall asleep on him again? god, you feel disgusting.

“are you okay?” he asks gently, reaching out and pressing the back of his hand gently to your forehead. it’s oddly warm. not feverishly warm, but unusual. he determines it could get worse from now, for sure, and goes around to grab a clean glass to fill up with water. he places it in front of you without a word, but he’s offering. you’re thinking of so much right now.

you just want to go home, but then again you kind of don’t. also, without minho’s support you might just die. not really, but it’d feel that way. ugh.

“do you need to throw up?” he asks gently. you shake your head no, quickly. you don’t want to puke up everything in your stomach. it wouldn’t help anyone. you drink the water slowly, hoping it won’t taste awful. it’s just water. he holds your free wrist with a soft, soft grip and rubs circles onto it with his thumb as he stands by you while you sip slowly from the glass he had given you. the water is good. it’s clearing your head; a little. it hurts to swallow, though not as much. maybe it’s helping. you finish the glass and set it down next to you, leaning back into your hands on the table. you look over to minho and notice he’s looking back at you with concern etched across his features. he knows exactly what you need and want. he’s so good like that, when he helps you. it’s unmatched. man, you sure love your boyfriend. minho continues with his soothing movements on your wrist and the throbbing in your head isn’t so bad anymore. hell, it’s practically gone.

“better?”

“yeah, i think. better.”

“that’s great, love.” he smiles and leans down to try and press his lips against yours. his hands find their way to your waist and you have to stop him.

“what’s wrong?”

“i’ll get you sick.”

he stares at you for a second with that teasing smile of his. “i don’t care.”

“what?”

minho kisses you gently for a moment— though it sort of feels longer than that— before pulling away. “i said i don’t care, sweetheart. i love you.” and he does. minho loves you. there’s nothing else that matters. there’s never been anything else, ever since he met you. you’re his world. he’s yours. you both know that. he can’t bear to even think that you don’t. he’d rather suffer than lose you. minho will do anything to keep you safe. you know that, too. he knows you know. so he presses another kiss, this time to your forehead. you’re his moon, his sun and his stars; he’d never deny it.

“want those pancakes now?” minho offers, hand still around your waist.

“oh, yeah, please.”

“then let’s eat,” minho says, walking off to get the plate that has the food on it. he puts it down on the table for you with the fork sitting on top. you pick up the fork, taking a bite off the pancake.

“here, too.” the guy slides over some condiments: syrup, jelly. “if you want any.”

“thanks.”

“i didn’t wake you up today, did i?” he asks while sitting down.

“don’t know,” you reply with a straight face, lifting a piece of the pancake to your mouth with your fork. actually, he was right about the pancakes. these are good. super good. the syrup is warm and smooth. he rolls his eyes playfully at you.

“okay, sorry for waking you up.”

“no, it’s fine. thank you.”

“how are you feeling?”

“a bit better. i guess it was worse on an empty stomach.” you laugh awkwardly, trying to ignore the lingering pain in your head. it’s significantly less than before, though, and for that you are grateful.

“is there anything i can do?”

“just stay here,” you suggest, continuing eating. “maybe cuddle me?” you say quietly with an awkward smile. minho nods and smirks again. “wont you get me sick?” he answers. “i’m only kidding. you know i’d love to. finish eating for me, ‘kay?”

turning his back to get another glass, you shove the remainder of whatever was left of your pancake into your mouth. they were delicious and you couldn’t help yourself. he grabs another glass of water, this time for himself, and sips at it.

“you should rest more often,” he comments as he walks over to you. you don’t exactly reply while you chew. minho grins, putting the empty glass on the island. it clinks to the marble with a satisfying sound. you lean back, having finished your bite.

“want more?”

“no. all good. full.”

“okay.” he nods and looks off into the distance, not looking at anything specifically, just kind of thinking; like the way you were this morning. he glances back at you and sets his cup down. “do you want those cuddles now?”

with a smile and a nod, he’s next to you in a heartbeat. he picks you up, with only a moment’s worth of struggle and then carries you to the couch.

“we can watch something, if you want. or is a screen too much on your eyes?”

“no, it’s okay. screens don’t bother me,” you insist. minho goes along with it and sets you down on the long couch with him. he’s laying down against the armrest, back facing the corner while you’re in front of him. his arms are wrapped all around you and he just kind of lays with you there, head buried into your shoulder from behind. he giggles breathily.

“has that headache of yours gone?” he asks while he grabs the control to the television.

“mostly.”

“good.”

he clicks around and finds your favorite show, your comfort one, and while he can’t see your face well he knows you’re smiling. he starts the first episode, right from the beginning, and cuddles up to you warmly.

“i don’t care if i get sick,” he reminds you.