kesshounokurage-blog

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he made him wear that

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[muffled out in the rain playing in the distance]

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this was probably also a bad idea

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i really like clear's sparkly sttarry purple dress (っ・ω・)っ

same

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ismikuoaninstrument:

Mikuo knew that he himself was the more fashion forward of the two, & definitely the one with the better understanding of what colours matched perfectly & which formed complete eyesores when put within five feet of one another– but he wouldn’t rain on Clear’s parade like a horrible person. “If you’re sure.“ he’s glad that Clear is dedicated to the cause, at least. Once he’s gotten his colour, he takes a hold of Clear’s chin & applies it, blending it out before taking a step back & admiring his work. “Perfect! Okay, open. Eyeliner now.” he reaches for his purse, grabbing the one he usually used & popping the top before turning back to Clear. “It’s going to feel fine now, but when I do your waterline it’s going to feel really strange. Just don’t blink for a little while, alright?”

Clear opened his eyes at the command. Even though he hadn’t done much to contribute besides sitting still and being patient, he shared in the sense of accomplishment Mikuo must be feeling by that expression on his face. One step down!

Although, being looked at like that, even if it was just to check the make-up...

It gave Clear a strange sort of feeling, though not an unpleasant one. He was simply more used to getting praise for his voice than his appearance. He flushed lightly underneath the foundation and glanced down and away in a shy manner, eyes only flicking upwards again to see the new tool.

Some sort of thin pointy thing that he assumed was for drawing the ‘lines.’ Maybe he should have been more afraid of getting poked in the eye with it, but he meant it when he said he trusted in his coworker’s skills.

“Alright,” he assented obligingly as always, tilting his face back up for Mikuo to reach.

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will gently kiss weenie-kun on the lips for a mizuclear draws. because no one does mizuclear; i came to tumblr for a good time and i feel so attacked right now :v

weeelllll

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No matter how often Clear witnessed these small feats of magic, they never failed to delight or impress. Especially when Mata performed them so casually, so effortlessly. Even half-asleep, they conjured up a key of his very own and it was beautiful. Clear admired it for a moment in awe before the meaning had sunk in entirely.

"...Eh? Mine?" he repeated with a surprised expression. He knew how Mata valued their private space, so receiving something like this was clearly important. His fingers curled inwards, cradling the sign of trust carefully, as if he were afraid to break it.

That was something he would never want to do, both literally and metaphorically. This closeness of theirs had been hard-won through patience and perseverance. Clear nodded resolutely, looking a little more determined now. "Thank you. I will take good care of it."

The key was inserted and the door swung open to reveal the darkened interior within, unseen but not unknown. Clear stepped inside with his precious cargo without pause, already anticipating the bio-luminescent glow to light the way as he ascended the stairs. Behind the next door was Mata’s bedroom, just as beautiful as he remembered-

But he tore his eyes away from the glass tank on the wall before he could be distracted. He had come here for a reason, after all. He carried Mata all the way to the bed and laid them down gingerly.

“Sleep well, Mata-san,” he said softly.

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Photoshop doodles…

Is it weird that I love the thought of Aoba, Mizuki, and Clear hanging together -  like in the Morphine gang..? Hmm..

LOL actually they just look like a boy band right now xD

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lxstful-desires:

      He rolled his shoulders in a shrug at Clear’s comment. “I don’t mind the walk.” He had to walk to work every day. Though it was slightly bothersome. He really had to wait for a simple fucking? Clear had better make it interesting or Desire wouldn’t be talking to him for a while. “As long as we can move quickly, then I don’t give a fuck.” He had such a filthy mouth. Much unlike his other self.

     He had noticed how Clear’s posture changed and quirked his eyebrow. He didn’t understand emotions such as sadness, but he still remained empathetic. He continued to hold onto Clear for a few more moments. He had no other idea how to treat people when they got like that. He had a feeling that he knew what his other self would have done, but he wasn’t about to let him take charge ( if he took charge than fucking probably wouldn’t occur or there would be far too much foreplay. he liked to get straight to the point ). 

   “Come on, before we get unwanted attention.” He muttered ( though he really just wanted to get fucked by that point ).

The vulgarity didn’t make Clear blink an eye. As polite as his own speech was, it was mostly an ingrained thing that he didn’t really think about rather than out of any sense of propriety. In fact, propriety was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment.

“Ah, I know a way to get there quickly!” he interjected helpfully, bouncing a little in excitement now. Any lingering melancholy was quickly swept away by a wave of eagerness as he found a way to make himself useful. He gave Aoba one last affectionate squeeze before letting him go, then turned around to face the other way and squatted down. “If I carry you on my back, we can take a shortcut!”

It didn’t seem to occur to Clear that this was a rather unconventional way of courting someone you wanted to be intimate with- or that getting a piggyback ride from a guy in a gas mask was the very definition of unwanted attention.

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mxsedemesne:

   Aoba remembers, but only when Clear recites his own words back to him. Though he meant every word and still does, he didn’t commit the conversation to memory like Clear evidently did. It’s a little surprising, even after everything, to find that the things he said were taken so deeply to heart. It’s a simple wish, to want to enjoy every second of life. It burns brighter than ever in light of the precious people he’s lost.    [ Clear would make us happy ] Desire interjects, words overlapping with Clear’s own. I want to be someone who can make you happy. – I love you, Aoba-san. All of you.     His chest constricts. Clear just– he can’t just say that so easily! So casually. And to pair it with Aoba’s name ( though he’ll have to see about removing that honorific )– He’s obviously plotting to rob Aoba of all rational thought and it’s working. He sags back against Clear’s chest, wondering why he’s so stunned by the confession when he’s already deduced a thousand times over that he’s dealing with a person with absolutely no restraint.     “Y-you…” he sputters, and is horrified to discover his eyes are burning. Is he going to cry? He weakly smacks Clear’s arm. “Idiot. Can’t believe you.” He’s crying. His vision blurs. He’s loved. Even Desire’s struck silent. “J-just yesterday I had no idea you even felt any of this and now–!”     It’s not a rejection. It sounds like one but it’s not and he squeezes Clear’s hands with sudden intensity as if he hopes his meaning hasn’t gotten lost in terrible articulation. He could never reject these feelings. “S-stay with me. I want that. I want… to make you happy, too.” 

It does sound worrying at first. Aoba is crying all of a sudden, and calling him an idiot, and now Clear feels like one. He reached too high, Aoba asked for his name not his heart. There’s a reason he’s never said these words and it’s because he never felt qualified enough. Who would be happy to hear they were loved by some strange creature hidden away from the world?

Aoba, apparently. He grasps Clear’s hands and the tight grip is enough to ground him from fleeing in a sudden bout of self-consciousness. Clear lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, presses his bare face to the crook of Aoba’s neck and remembers- he’s not strange at all, he looks normal. He can have this.

“I’m... already happy,” he admits, a little shakily himself. His heart feels wobbly in his chest; it’s a fragile kind of joy, new and unsure, but he trusts Aoba. He doesn’t need anything more than ‘stay.’ Now that he’s here, he doesn’t intend to leave any time soon. He tightens his arms around Aoba’s waist to show his resolve

“You accepted me without knowing what was underneath my mask. I may not understand you very well, but I want to accept Aoba-san, too. Whatever it is you have to tell me, I want to hear it.”

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robot fucker strikes again

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cleao sweater stuff because why not?

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doodle of 2 nerds b4 bed

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can u feel the blue 2nite

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um

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how clear me be

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Small PSA: If I reblog a sentence starter meme and you don’t think any of them quite fit your character’s voice, feel free to edit the sentence. Cut bits out, add/replace words, mix and mash them, change tense or syntax or language. If you think it’ll make it more in-character/a more interesting prompt, then change whatever needs changing.