Whenever Tenma Gets Super Stressed Or Upset About Something He Really Needs To Do Something With His

Whenever tenma gets super stressed or upset about something he really needs to do something with his hands. He had a bad habit of pulling on seams and loose threads from his costumes so Yuki went looking for something to get his hands off his clothes and landed on woven lanyards! Yuki only taught him the 90 degree box stitch and Tenma ended up going online to learn a ton of other patterns too! So, pretty much every time they have shows coming up or Ten-ten has filming to do he ends up making fistfulls of lanyards and other little handicrafts! Yes, he made friendship bracelets for the entire summer troupe. Yes, he was very, very proud of how nicely they came out. Yes they made it into an entire ceremony when Kumon joined, and yes, Tenma officially dubbed him, ‘part of the squad’. He kept them in a shoebox in his room until he somehow filled it up. Lanyards were kinda ending up all over the floor and Yuki was filling up the natsugumi Swear Jar real quick from stepping on hard plastic so Tenma ceremoniously took his box into the common room, lined everyone up, and distributed lanyards to the entire company. 

So that's why Tetsuro has a baby pink lanyard for his house keys.

Every now and then i remember that [for all the essays i could write ab how they deserve better from the writers and official artists] citron and guy are muslim coded and my little heart fills :)

citron teaching omi and izumi how to make roti on a well aged tawa [think crepe pan!], one of the few things citron brought with him when he fled home. Smiling quietly when he teaches them how to scoop up curry without getting toooo messy, and openly grinning and cheering when sakuya manages to do it perfectly, laughing and agreeing when misumi says the shape between his fingers looks a bit like a triangle!!!! So cool!!!!!

Heart swelling with something…just something. When he hears masumi and tenma grumble about the saffron staining their fingernails. Just like his brothers do. Well, did. I mean, probably still do…right?

Every now and again, he was viscerally reminded that he. Was not. Home.

No one recognized his spices and perfumes.

No one joined in his little songs, references from his favorite movies. They couldn't.

He always, always had to check before he ate something for the ingredients list. Something he took for granted. A comfort, a sense of safety he took for granted.

No one recognized his mumbled recitations under his breath after watching horror movies. He was never the most intently devout, but the Arabic he did know soothed his soul.

The simplest things.

Tea tasted thin, bitter. Nothing like his rich, spiced chai.

That was it.

Little things.

Nothing special he could point to and say was ‘wrong’. It just, deeply, wholly, wasn't his.

Citron felt that gut wrenching twist and claw of loneliness when holidays rolled around. He dreaded celebrating alone.

He explained Ramadan to his new family! Assured them that, yes, he was definitely eating! He just wouldn't be eating with them in the day for a while! All with this…strange smile on his face.

The first week of the first Ramadan he spent at the dorms was sad. Just plain sad.

He wanted his brothers. He wanted them near him so bad it hurt. He wanted to hear those quiet little complaints and the jokingly angry yells whenever a commercial for food came on the tv. He wanted to wake up with them. Watch everyone slowly shuffle into the kitchen before dawn. When he was alone it felt wrong. Like he was taking food when he wasn't supposed to. It just. It wasn't right. Nothing about it felt right.

And then the second week started. And Izumi was in the kitchen before him.

Bleary eyed, blanket around her shoulders [that made his heart hurt, who knows why], and wearily peering at the stove as she stirred a pan of leftover curry, rice cooker with only 3 minutes left on the counter. And the young man was struck with how soft her ‘good morning’ was. How full of love and determination her smile was.

He was not ashamed when he cried into her shoulder for a minute or so. She seemed to understand.

A persons fanfic tells you a lot about them, i , a fanfic writer, realize in terror

hc: muku will sometimes text in freeform poetry 

Muku:

I think cooked fruit is disgusting, in nearly all forms.

but if you like cooked fruit,

i will give all of mine to you

and you will give me the crust off of your pie to nibble on

and that is because we love each other :)))))))

-1:34 AM

Yuki:

Go the fuck to sleep <3

-1:37 AM

are your reqs open? if they are could i get hcs of the wan wan combi w/ a cosplaying s/o ? thank you !!

Yup! Reqs are always open!

⋆Kazu⋆

Ok, he’s been enamoured with you from day one, but the first time he sees you in cosplay he’s just squealing for a minute straight

How?!?!? How are you so cute?? So handsome!? So pretty!?

If you want him to, he’ll do photoshoots for you at the drop of a hat

I think part of what draws kazu to cosplaying is how intensely artistic it is! You quite literally re-create an entire other being with yourself! How cool is that?!? (he’s very excited ab this if you can't already tell)

He’d absolutely want to get in on the shenanigans >:3

Imagine doing cute couple-y cosplays with him!!! He’ll be bouncing off the walls the second you texted him a pictures of the characters you wanted to do

Tai-chan <3

Omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg!!!!!!!

If you post your cosplays online just know that he runs a stan account for you,.,bby is your biggest fan

He is just :pleadingeyesemoji: every single time he sees you all dressed up <3

He actually low-key gets nervous when talking to you in cosplay bc in his brain you look so cool and awesome and maybe just a little bit scary with how well-put together you are,.,., he’s just wearing a band-tee [he does not know the band, i’m sorry, he just thought the words “My Chemical Romance” looked cool] and cargo shorts, he feels kinda lame next to you..,.,

Will be too scared to mess up your outfit or (if you happen to be wearing any) smudge your makeup, so he will harness all his willpower to not poke your cute little cheeks or snuggle into you like normal

Now, you’re having none of that. Attack him with kissies and cuddles so he doesn’t cry

note: i barely passed biology please i know this is not medically a common thing please i begging u just imagine omi looking all pretty please please i begging dont make me think ab science!!!! I AM JUST A LITTLE CREATURE WRITING HCS FOR A GAME THAT CANONICALLY INCLUDES TIME LOOPS THIS ISNT THAT FAR FETCHED! [also this is legally a wip bc i cant seem to get off my ass and write rn <3]

omi def started to grey prematurely, a mixture of it being a genetic trait in his family, and the horrific amount of grief and stress he went through early in life. He used the trick he learned from one of his aunts of using root-touch-up to cover the shiny silver hairs that would pop up across his scalp, with a bit of a concentration near his temples. The first two people at mankai to ever see them were sakyo and izumi, on separate occasions. Sakyo still remembers that heavy, indescribable feeling in his chest when he ran into omi in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. How omi had clearly just washed his hair, it was still dripping at the nape of his neck. How, the silver strands caught the harsh, artificial light of the fridge so strikingly. How tired fushimi looked. How world-weary. How jaded. He couldn't bring himself to mention it, but it was hard to make casual conversation whilst wondering what the hell had happened to this kid, that he looks like me on my worst days?

Omi definitely felt his chest tighten when izumi quietly, reverently, whispered “Fushimi-san, your hair is so pretty ‘nd silvery!!”

Another late night run-in. This time omi had been sitting in the courtyard with a warm cup of sawine, trying to ignore the fact that it was 2:57 in the morning. Ignoring the fact that he knew he had practice in a few hours. How the kids would wake up and leave for school in a few hours. How, at this point he might as well just stay up. Who gives a fuck, right? His time is better spent taking care of those kids. Those sweet kids, some of them still so genuinely innocent of what the world can do to a 20-something year old disaster. He should be making sure they’ve got something in their stomachs before class. Making sure that at least they know someone cares.  At least they can say they-

“Fushimi?”

Shitshitshitfuckshit “Director! You really should be asleep right now”

With that strong conviction he knew her for, his beloved director plunks down in the chair next to him, a bundle of some sort of fabric in her arms 

“You should be asleep too! But here we are! Mind telling me why you’re up?”

Damn, can’t ignore her now.