going to become obese

Markiplier Ego Imagines (pt. 6)

(I’m really excited about this one, cuties. I’m pretty sure this is the best, most important thing I’ve ever written…)

The Egos (and Anti—can’t leave the green bean out of this one) when presented with a kitten:

Imagine Wilford Warfstache going absolutely nuts because—OMG IT’S A TINY, BUZZING BALL OF FLUFF! “Why does it make that noise? Is it going to explode? That would be awesome!” He’d make it a tiny top hat to match his own and a tiny bowtie, too. He would name it Warfstache Junior and carry it around with him everywhere. Dark has no idea how he manages to sneak it into every single meeting, but the kitten always ends up running across the table, knocking over cups and scattering papers everywhere. It truly is a tiny, furry Wilford.

Imagine Silver Shephard being terrified of it. Google would find him on top of a filing cabinet in one of the offices, and Silver is screeching at the top of his lungs, “IT’S GOING TO EAT ME!” Google rolls his eyes and keeps going. He’s got business to attend to, but Silver would eventually be brave enough to get down off the cabinet and find that the harmless little bean has fallen asleep.

Imagine Anti getting on the ground and playing with the kitten. He’s covered in tiny scratches and cat hair, but he’s a happy glitch. If anyone were to so much as look at the kitten with ill intent, Anti would be at their throat with a knife in the blink of an eye. One day, Sean finds a laser pointer around the house, and lo and behold, not only will the kitten chase it but Anti will as well.

Imagine Ed not knowing what on Earth to do with it. “Do you eat ‘em?” And all the other Egos have a heart attack trying to explain that, no, kittens are pets, not food. Ed would shrug, and they think that that’s the end of it. But a week later, they’re all sitting in the Board Room, and—did Ed’s hair just meow?

Imagine Google having a sneezing fit because who knew that the droid was allergic to cats? He doesn’t see the point in keeping pets. It’s a very human concept, anyway, and such frivolous animals are a complete waste of time. Oliver just about dies. Literally—his allergic reactions to the cat nearly cause his systems to shut down, but, “Guys, it’s so cute! Look at the little pink beans on the bottom of its feet! Pleeeeease can we keep him?”

Imagine Dr. Iplier giddily trying to be a vet. He’d check the cat’s eyes and ears and teeth, all the little spaces between each tiny toe. His cat would be in perfect health. When no one is looking, the Doctor sneaks Nurse, the kitten, scraps of food left in the kitchen. It starts to get out of hand when Dr. Iplier’s kitten becomes obese, and the Doctor has to go through the torment of trying to put his beloved cat on a diet.

Imagine the Host ignoring the little beasty at first. He’s far too busy writing for a—until it rubs against his leg, purring happily. The Host immediately falls in love. He carries the kitten around in the pocket of his trench coat, its little head poking out and mewing at passersby, everywhere he goes. He names it Fitzgerald, Fitz for short, and it’s his baby and DO NOT TOUCH THE SMOL BEAN. It becomes his constant companion, and he dedicates many books to the tiny fur ball.

Imagine Dark raising one terrifying eyebrow at the smol cat as it paws innocently at his finger. He’s somewhat entranced until it nicks him with one of its tiny claws and draws blood. Everyone winces, afraid that the kitten is going to be incinerated, but Dark looks mildly impressed. The Host overhears him having a conversation with the cat one day, trying to convince it to join his side in taking over the channel.

Imagine Bim Trimmer passing out from overexposure to pure cuteness radiation. The kitten pads over and starts licking his face, and Bim’s soul leaves his body.

anonymous asked:

I'm so sorry I don't know how to start prompts but like Oikawa isn't playing volleyball anymore for whatever reason and his eating habits aren't great so the pounds start piling on and he has a weigh in at the doctors and he gets scolded and becomes real insecure, so Iwa-chan comes to the rescue with sweets.

*I’m not thrilled with this, but I’ve been staring at it too long so I’m just posting it. Big reminder that healthcare professionals aren’t always correct. My grandmother was told by a doctor she was obese for being ten pounds over her BMI. She told the guy to eat a dick because he couldn’t tell her what the extra weight was effecting because her physical came back nearly perfect. My grandmother is savage and could still kick my ass so it’s pretty safe to say she’s in good health despite her “obesity”.* 

The biggest problem with eating away your troubles is that it tends to result in more unsettling issues later on.

Or it might just be Oikawa being unsettled by the fact the doctor he’d just visited had implied he was becoming obese.

It’s not the usual physician he sees—she was a lot more soft spoken than that guy had been—and he can still hear the echoes of disappointment in that man’s words, even after confirming that everything else during his physical had been top-notch.

Because Oikawa Tooru was considered healthy but getting fat, two things that weren’t supposed to coincide apparently.

And that fact alone makes him queasy the entire train ride home, even more so when he passes his favorite little bakery shop and has to turn down the sweet shop owner’s offer to come in and try a batch of a new recipe she’d just created. He fakes being late and telling her he’ll come down another day, but even then he’s not sure if that’s a promise he can keep.

The former setter tugs down shirt restlessly, that uneasy feeling not going away even after he enters his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment. He makes a b-line for the bathroom, even though he knows he really shouldn’t, hiking up his shirt when he gets fully in the mirror.

Oikawa has no reason to be looking at himself; he knows what’s already waiting for him to see. But he still can’t help cupping his soft belly, feeling the very noticeable squeeze he can give to it, and watching it jiggle as he lets it fall back down. He makes a noise and pulls his shirt down hard, making a swift turn out of the small bathroom with the decision that he probably shouldn’t be looking or else he’s going to throw himself into another mood.

His immediate direction is towards the kitchen before he can even think about it, simply out of habit of what he always did when he was feeling down: going into the cabinet, grabing something—usually milkbread—to snack on, and making himself feel a little better with his favorite sugary treat because nobody, except maybe grouchy Iwa-chan, could not smile while eating milkbread.

When he actually gets the little packet in hand though is when he remembers the doctor’s lecture from before and it has him gazing down at the little bread with dismay. Oikawa sets it back in the cabinet and forces himself to go and sit on the couch, least he stuff his face while remaining in the kitchen. He props his bum knee up as he sits, mostly as a preventive than from it actually hurting.

Just when he’s considering rolling over to nap just so he can skip lunch without having a rumbly tummy, his boyfriend of course has to walk in with probably the best smelling takeout they’ve had in ages.

Iwaizumi catches sight of him on the couch and gives him a soft smile, toeing off his shoes and heading over to drop the bag with food on the table which has Tooru’s mouth watering instantly.

He doesn’t reach out for it likes he wants to, just looks up at his boyfriend with confused—hopefully not betrayed—looking eyes. Hajime just gives him an easy smile and tells him softly, “I didn’t know if it would be a good knee or bad knee reports, so I figured I’d come prepared with your favorite.”

Oikawa makes a noise. Damn. Hajime was way too thoughtful.

It makes him looks at the meal even more now, especially knowing it was a good-willed gift from his boyfriend, making it that much more difficult to refuse and say he’s not hungry. His hesitance must not be obvious to Hajime as he easily sets the container of food in Tooru’s hands, passing him a pair of throwaway chop sticks, and sitting down at the table to eagerly eat his own dish.

The food under his nose smells divine and he can’t help put pop back the tabs and look over it with hungry eyes.

The minute he grips onto a bundle of noodles, that overly professional voice of the doctor he minds him, “…you could become obese.”

He drops the bite he was going to take and stares at it miserably.

“Everything okay, babe?” Hajime’s looking at him while still managing to push his own thing of noodles into his mouth.

Oikawa makes a soft noise and shrugs. “I guess I’m just not that hungry…”

“Did you eat already?”

He freezes immediately, knowing Hajime would be able to tell through a fib. “Um, no…but my stomach’s feeling a little uneasy.”

And where was the lie?

There’s a moment of silence between them and Tooru’s almost sure he’s gotten away with it, which is why he startles when Hajime sets down his chopstick with a ‘tick’, setting his to-go box down next to it.

“Somethings wrong.” He declares after a belated moment and he turns to give Tooru and inquisitive stare.

He’s giving Tooru the ball here, giving him the chance to decided where to aim it before he goes after it. That’s always what his boyfriend does, gives him the court, lets him have the first move.

Hajime’s giving him the chance to say it before he goes for the slow, patient process of trying to open him up and the score is like three hundred plus vs zero, all in Hajime’s favor…

So the former setter gives, because Hajime is going to fish it out of him anyways, and finally divulges to him using soft words  of what the doctor’s prognosis had been.

What he’s not expecting is how visibly pissed his boyfriend gets over.  

“That motherfucker—” Hajime hisses out with a bite, fist slamming on the table with a loud bang, “I should go give that dickbag a piece of my mind…!”

Those sharp eyes flicker to his and Hajime’s standing before he can even prepare himself, making a small noise when the shorter man dragged him up, making him stand so Hajime could cup his face and drag his head down so their eyes could meet.

“Don’t you dare start listening to a word of what that man told you. Not. A. Word. He said that you were healthy and that’s the only thing to care about, his opinions about your shape have no relevance. He’s probably a person who thinks you have to have the waist the size of a twig to be beautiful.”

Tooru makes a noise and opens his mouth to respond, but Hajime doesn’t seem to be done just yet, “What was it you said you weighed now? Eighty-two kilograms right? That’s ten kilograms, Tooru. In one year. That’s not much okay, I don’t think my health book even considers that overweight technically. But who gives a shit if it does Tooru! You’re healthy and that’s what matters!”

He pushes their foreheads together and wraps his arms around the taller man’s waist, resting his hands just at the small of his back. “Doctor’s aren’t always right, babe. They have warped visions of beauty just like all of us do. Your primary doctor hasn’t said a word about your weight, so don’t let some new asshole try to tell you his opinion just because he has a degree. Hell, you don’t even have to see that guy again, wasn’t he just a fill-in for your other doctor while she was away?”

Tooru murmurs out a soft, “yes” and Hajime moves his hands to his hips, pulling his head back and looking at Tooru firmly. “No more of this, okay? Especially if you’re trying to skip meals. If you want to lose weight that’s fine, I’d be happy to help, but we’re not going to do it by starving you. You aren’t going to torture yourself with hunger. I get that you’re feeling a little self-conscious right now and I want to help with that. If you want to start diet plan, I’ll even make you up one tomorrow. You can decide what you want to do, but for now just come sit down and eat your favorite noodles with me. Let’s celebrate that you are in great health and that your knee is getting better again.”

Oikawa lets himself be put on the couch again, Hajime eagerly joining him after fetching his own carton of noodles and chopsticks, scooting close to him so that their thighs touched and Tooru could lean into him.

“…thank you Hajime.” Comes the soft response after several moments of quiet slurping and Hajime isn’t dumb enough to think it’s the food his boyfriend is thanking him for.

“I love you, Tooru.” He tells him firmly, smiling at Tooru’s retuning ‘I love you too.’

“We’ll go to Kita-san’s bakery after this, she told me to bring you after you got done with your ‘important business’.” Tooru nudges him for his teasing and Hajime laughs, smiling even more when his boyfriend simply makes a happy sound at the prospect of getting sweets.  

anonymous asked:

I know this is personal but do you mind explaining the story of your eating disorder?

well for as long as I can remember food made me feel gross and guilty. like the kind of dirty that a shower couldn’t fix. I was a dancer or a cheerleader my whole life, so I spent 5 or 6 days a week in practically my underwear in front of a mirror for hours. that can really teach you how to hate yourself. sophomore year I quit competitive dance and started taking a few classes a week instead, and I had panic attacks several nights a week with the thought that I was going to become obese because I wasn’t dancing every night anymore. I tortured myself. I was completely uneducated about how to eat healthy or what to do at a gym because I had always been naturally athletic. and because for years I considered food my enemy, I decided to restrict myself from it in fear of gaining weight. at first I started with skipping breakfast and lunch, and I’d eat dinner then go on a run at the gym. this went on for about 6 months. there was nothing glamorous about it. my hair was falling out, my nails thinned, I was washed out and appeared that I hadn’t slept in weeks, and I was so exhausted all the time that if I wasn’t running on the treadmill, I was sleeping. I lost interest in everything in my life. I destroyed almost all my relationships with my friends & my family. I was in a wildly unhealthy relationship with my first serious boyfriend. it is still hard for me to say that that person was me. none of what I was doing or how I was treating people was me. anorexia and bulimia are evil demons that will control your every thought and move if you let them, and I did for far to long. after spring break (April 2013) my depression developed. I came home from school everyday and cried. I felt so alone, and no matter how skinny I got I was to fat. I could’ve stood in front of the mirror for hours and listed 1,000 things I hated about myself, even though I was getting so skinny I could’ve been nonexistent. one of the hardest parts was seeing all the compliments I would get on my pictures. everyone admired how skinny I was, and one part of me was like “you fucking idiots. I’m not skinny, I am dying.” and the other half of me was like “wow, I must be doing something right. better keep this up” and I did. it got to the point where I would eat a protein bar and a smoothie a day, maybe a spoonful of peanut butter. it was disgusting. I was a zombie. when school ended and it was summer, not eating was more difficult since I was spending time with friends. this is when my bulimia developed. the first time I ever did it, I was with a huge group of people and we ordered pizza, and when I finished my piece my heart started beating so fast I thought it was going to jump out of my chest onto the floor in front of everyone. I didn’t even care about having fun or enjoying my friends company. I just wanted to be sure I didn’t digest an ounce of the pizza I just ate. and I didn’t. I spent the following 30 minutes with my fingers down my throat, which quickly became a habbit. I threw up my meals every chance I got. my teeth got so yellow from it, I hated it. but I couldn’t stop. there were several occasions where I would be places where I couldn’t throw up (a family dinner, a date) and I would have full blown panic attacks. panic attacks that required and inhaler or a Xanax for me to calm the fuck down about digesting my food. something a normal person shouldn’t even think twice about. I had literally become a stranger in my own body. I didn’t know where to turn, but I was in such denial that not eating was what I needed, because I would be skinny, and if I was skinny I would be happy. I can assure anyone who is still reading this, I was everything but happy. I was in a living hell. when junior year rolled around, if I wasn’t getting drunk to the point of not knowing my first name, I was probably alone in my room crying on the floor for how much I hated myself. it was a never ending rollar coaster of self hatred, which resulted in pushing away anyone who cared about me. I skipped school on a Monday and sat in a bubble bath with my phone. the previous Friday I had done my usual thing, I went all day without eating and drank a ton of cheap vodka and did stupid shit I knew I would regret, but I hated myself so much and was so numb I did not care. I read several tweets about what a “slut” I was, and so on, and I felt so empty I wanted nothing but to die. as I sit here and type that it brings tears to my eyes, to know that there was once a time where I was so unhappy with who I was that I felt as if death was the only outlet. I took God only knows how many excedrin migraine pills and a few sleeping pills and woke up in the hospital. I spent sometime after that in a psychiatric hospital. that will really make you want to get your shit together. at this point, I had no life, practically no friends (with the exception of a few, one of which is my current boyfriend who I will forever be eternally grateful for) and was beginning recovery. which is a long, hard, miserable process. it seems dramatic, but it’s what I imagine learning how to walk again is like. I didn’t know who I was without hating myself, or without starving myself. it took me about a year to learn to appreciate myself and who I am. and I am overwhelmed with joy that recovery was the path I chose. it’s been 2 years, and I have wonderful friends, a phenomenal boyfriend who I love more than anything, good relationships with my parents, I graduated high school and I am going to college with a scholarship on the west coast. I love life and it loves me back. and it is the most beautiful feeling in the universe.


I was really upset today to see a post where someone posed a question about which chronic illness they would pick if they could choose. The question itself is disturbing to say the least. One response and reasoning was even more disturbing. The individual answered, “Narcolepsy because I would get more sleep that way.”

This is a terrible misconception. People with narcolepsy (PWN) do sleep more, but the type of sleep is not restful so during waking hours you always still feel sleepy, which leads to symptoms of anxiety, mood disorders and depression to name a few. Because narcolepsy stems from a dysfunctional hypothalamus, it can also affect hunger leading many PWN to become overweight or even obese.

If you’re going to blog, please make informed statements rather spreading misconceptions about serious chronic illnesses.

hsamrs  asked:

Consider changing to "Fit positive" or "Healthier living positive" or idk something that is POSITIVE for you and not negative toward other people. Because ANTI-FAT is bullying and hate. Be something positive and respectful.

No. Fat Acceptance is a dangerous movement, telling people it’s okay to be obese. That’s as dangerous as anorexics saying it’s okay to be anorexic. I am not going to cover this in glitter and sing happy little songs about. I’m going to be aggressive, and I’m going to say the truth. 

Being obese is DANGEROUS. Letting your kids become obese is CHILD ABUSE and I am ANTI anything that tells people if you have a serious life-threatening condition THAT YOU CAN CHANGE, you should just accept it. 

Fuck that.

bangtan superlatives

most likely to piss off the wrong person, own 20 dogs: kim taehyung 

most likely to take over bts, get swole in 2016: jeon jungkook 

most likely to retain teenage eating habits when his metabolism slows down and become obese: kim seokjin 

most likely to go prematurely bald: min yoongi

most likely to try and be hip but end up offending someone: kim namjoon

most likely to murder someone for being between him and the camera: park jimin

most likely to transform into a golden orb and replace the sun: jung hoseok