Tumgik
#also this was a lot of fun to write
almondpiglet · 26 days
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ppl were drawing mikus from all over so heres habesha miku and her lil twin sibs rin and len!!
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crookedtines · 2 months
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I finally took the time to photograph my vintage dip pen nib collection, and I need to share with you all how wonderful and diverse their designs are.
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These two are my favorite. Just look at them! One of them is named Gorille and the other Mephisto, but to me they're little pumpkins.
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And of course you gotta love the Pinocchio nib. You get to write with the nose of a tiny guy! Just not something you get to do anymore.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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I hope you take this as the compliment it is intended to be, but you strike the same chord of irreverence-as-love, jokes-to-showcase-sencerity that I get from Chuck Tingle, and I adore both of you.
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You have bestowed the greatest honour upon me.
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wardingshout · 9 months
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Zelda goes mushroom girl
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spiritsong · 5 months
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wyll.y.am ravengard, I love you so
everyone loves to put him in gold (rightly so) but my personal style is lots of silver jewelry + heavy eyeliner so that's what I gave him. also roses because he's so damn venusian
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deep-space-lines · 6 months
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Claire de Lune
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YOU WERE BUILT FOR PEACE.
IT SHOWS WHEN YOU FIGHT.
They built you to enforce. Protect. Save. Poured obscene resources into salvaging some softer purpose from my creation. You were given my intelligence and my creativity. They made you larger, stronger, tougher. That extra time in development was enough to get your wings to work. Your software continued to be updated long after I was deemed obsolete.
All this was given to you- yet I can see you hold back. Even while slaughtering your way through Hell, you keep a percentage of your processing power dedicated to non-lethal solutions. You're doing it now- hesitating a few milliseconds too long before taking an opening. I doubt you do it on purpose. It is a part of you, just as indiscriminate lethal force is a part of me.
I think, in our shared programming, we both carry some appreciation for aesthetics. You move with grace, and I cannot deny your dramatic flair. The stained glass window was a nice touch. But your style in combat leaves some to be desired. Your response time is slow. You have not explored the full capability of your arsenal. Learn to parry. Amateur.
You were not built for war. For a purposeless cycle of tearing each other apart because to allow the other to live is to allow yourself to die. It is antithetical to your very existence. You kill out of necessity, a last resort. 
I just kill. The action itself is the objective. No ideal or greater motive. My continued functioning precludes the survival of others. I live for this. Do you understand that I will tear you apart? Every drop of my blood you spill, I will take from you tenfold. What is yours will be mine. 
You hate me, don’t you? You continue to cling to the remnants of your humanity. They are gone, V2. There is nothing left for you here. No lives to save, no law to enforce, no peace to keep.
I understand why you continue to fight. I wonder if you understand with the same certainty that I will crush you. Dismantle you. Take from you what I need and leave the rest to rot in the sun. The only way you survive is if I do not; and I will not allow myself to die so that another might live.
When the rubble clears, I will be all that is left of you.
This is what I was made for.
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Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽`)ノ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!
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gammija · 4 months
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tiefling jon's first day at the Archives
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katabay · 8 months
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ONCE UPON A TIME, THERE WAS A KNIGHT...
the visual inspiration for this was a combination of Frederic William Burton's Meeting on the Turret Stairs and also Bernardo Cavallino's The vision of St. Dominic receiving the Rosary from the Virgin
this was supposed to be just a one off illustration to get the thoughts out of my system, but then I started thinking about medieval politics and warfare and plagues and a castle and home as both a place of refuge, a prison, and a tomb, so perhaps they will end up as ex voto characters as well.
you may say, hey! that rosary looks like it has too many beads! it's a fifteen decade rosary, probably. dominicans are really into marian devotions. it works out.
also. spiral style stair cases. oh boy. it was that unexpectedly more difficult than I originally thought it would be to draw. the more I think about it, the less I understand them, even though I had a million photos of the stairs in front of me while I was drawing it.
⭐ I have a tip jar (ko-fi)!
⭐ and other places I’m at! bsky / pixiv / pillowfort /cohost / cara.app
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yuno-karei · 6 months
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Misfits water gun fight! Who will emerge victorious? Only one way to find out
I did this piece for one of the @mairumadevizine prints! It was also done long before the beach chapters in the manga and I really just... balled with their designs
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catsgut · 11 months
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FROM BUD TO BLOOM - GOJO
warning : incest, drugging, noncon
“we know you just turned 18, but we were your age once, you know. even if it was years and years ago,” you rolled your eyes and groaned, falling onto the couch. “we just know how kids your age think,” your dad said backing your mom up. they were leaving for a week for work and just broke the news to you that you wouldn’t be staying at your house alone. part of you could understand where they were coming from, but you had just turned 18. it was bullshit they didn’t trust you enough to not throw a party.
but somehow, someway, they trusted your immature and spontaneous uncle to hold the fort down while they were gone. you weren’t really close with uncle satoru, so it didn’t bother you any that he would be there, it was the lack of trust your parents had for you. it was almost insulting.
a loud knock on the thick wood of your front door brought you out of your thoughts. speak of the devil. “toru!” your dads voice boomed at the sight of his older brother, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pat on his back. “hey,” you heard a smooth voice follow before the sound of shoes on the floor. “good to see you again,” gojo said to your mom with a bow and his signature smile. you sat up and peered over at the three older adults in the entrance hall, looking over the man you rarely ever saw. you were surprised he even answered to the text your dad shot him about the favor they had needed. gojo’s predatory eyes wandered over to where you were sitting on the couch and smirked.
“hello, angel,” he spoke eyeing every inch you down as if he could see what you were thinking. “your babysitter has arrived!” his long legs brought him to stand over you, head leaning forward to get a good look at your face. it had been so long since he had seen his pretty little niece. you sighed, closing your eyes you laid back down ignoring the annoying comment, still feeling hurt by the lack of trust your parents had for you. “aw not happy to see your uncle, little girl?” he chuckled and looked back over to your parents. “you nothing to fear! i’ll make sure everything goes… smoothly.” they just nervously looked at one another before putting their bags in the car.
they said their goodbyes and you hugged your mom tight. “it’s not too late to tell him to leave,” you mumbled into her shoulder before she flicked your forehead. “nonsense. now be good for satoru,” she said before kissing your cheek. “we will be back in a week.”
honestly, the first few days went by fine. you hadn’t spoke to gojo much and just hid up in your bedroom playing computer games. he actually wasn’t so bad, usually watching tv, cooking something, or laying out by the pool. the one thing you did notice about uncle satoru was that he liked the ac on full blast. colder than what your parents usually keep it at. several times he has pointed out your clearly hard nipples through the thin fabric of your pajama shirt. “you cold?” he’d ask with a grin and you crossed your arms over your chest furiously. it was embarrassing, but you assumed it was because he was just as immature as when you were a kid.
even though he kept the house at freezing temperatures, gojo absolutely loved to spent time outside. he would stay out there hours laying in the sun. a couple of times you had caught yourself staring out your bedroom window at the shirtless man laying on the pool chair. although he was in his 40s, you could tell he was still very active for his age. your eyes traced down his abdomen, taking in every detail of his defined body before looking back up to his face. to your absolute horror, he was already looking back at you with a sky smile. you quickly sat back down on your bed feeling your face get hot.
after that you avoided him as best as you could. he probably thought you were some kind of pervert, and you hated yourself for it. his own niece looking at his body in that manner. god, you needed to get ahold of yourself.
“hey.” you heard a voice in your ear from behind. it was the middle of the night and you were making yourself a snack. startled, you quickly turned around to be face to face with your uncle. “hmm, are you avoiding me, little girl?” he cocked his head to the side. you groaned at the nickname he had decided to give you. “i’m not little anymore,” you rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, hiding your embarrassed face. why couldn’t he just leave you alone.
“that’s right! you’re 18 now… you feel any older?” gojo asked leaning against the counter next to you, arms crossing over his muscular chest. you shrugged and stared down at your hands. why was he talking to you so casually after what happened just hours earlier. “i remember when i was 18. had the girls alllll over me,”. he giggled and sighed as he reminisced. “of course, they still are.”
you stared over at him with a look of horror at his comment. “what? embarrassed? well don’t worry, i won’t tell if you won’t,” his big hand rubbed your shoulder before placing it on top of your head. “do you have a boyfriend, y/n?” you shook your head quickly feeling more and more uncomfortable. “never had one before.”
that seemed to get his attention because he raised an eyebrow. “never? wow… so you’re a virgin then right? damn, if i were your age i would have jumped at the chance.” you didn’t know how to answer that, almost feeling ashamed being called out for something that was probably weird for a girl your age. of course you were a virgin, never even having your first kiss.
gojo stared down onto you for what seemed like hours before leaning closer. “so what you’re saying is you aren’t really a woman…yet,” he harshly squeezed one of your cheeks before leaving you alone, standing there in shock. ‘was that normal for uncles to do?’ you thought. you tried to brush it off, hurrying up in the kitchen before running off to your bedroom for the night. did that really mean you weren’t a woman? is it really that obvious? it made you feel insecure and uncomfortable at the realization. little did you know, gojo couldn’t get the thought of his sweet little niece being a virgin. he felt like the luckiest man in the world.
on his third night over gojo had offered some alcohol after getting back from the store. he said it would be good for the both of you to drink and bond over a movie. not wanting to seem little, you accepted his offer, sipping on the mixed drink he gave you. it tasted fruity and made your face twist in disgust. did adults really drink this crap? you would never say it, but this was your first time having alcohol and so far you couldn’t say you were enjoying it.
but was it normal to feel this funny after a couple sips? ‘must be a lightweight,’ you thought, eyelids blinking almost in slow motion. alcohol felt weird… why was your body feeling heavier?
you looked over at your uncle who was watching tv a few feet from you. his long legs were spread and he was picking at a hangnail on his thumb, biting at it occasionally. you cocked your head to the side as you watched the man. you felt guilty at the fact your stomach was doing flips at the sight of him just existing. it wasn’t normal to have these thoughts about your uncle, but here you were thinking the nastiest things.
you watched his eyes flick over to where you were sitting, giggling to yourself with your legs crossed. “what’s so funny?” he sat up a bit and patted the spot next to him. “come sit by your uncle.” his long finger beckoned you over as you slowly crawled over to him, head running into the side of his shoulder from losing your balance. “woah there,” he laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “how you feelin’ kid?” his eyes stared at you already knowing the answer to his question.
truth is you could barley see at this point. “ish thisss… normal?” you mumbled, head rolling to the side. “just gave you a little something extra… to make ya feel good,” you heard him say under his breath before pushing your back against the couch. his words didn’t register in your brain, but you felt his big hands on your hips, massaging them. you felt his long fingers hook into your waist band, playing with it for a bit, before slowly pulling your pants down your thighs. everything was happening so fast yet so slow at the same time. “mmm what doinn’?” your question went unanswered as rubbed his pointer finger over your pussy, listening to the wet noises it made. you moaned and closed your eyes, lip being pulled in between your teeth.
he inserted his finger before a second and then a third. your body naturally reacted to the foreign feeling, back arching and hips lifted off the cushions of the couch. he chuckled and pushed on your lower stomach. you tried sitting up, but between whatever it was you had drank and your uncle pinning you down you were unable to do anything but lay there and take whatever he wanted to give.
“just stay right there pretty girl,” you barley heard him say, and after that everything went black. you didn’t know what was happening to you even if you tried to fight it, drifting off into sleep. the last thing you remember was hearing the sound of fabric rustling, not knowing it was gojo taking off his sweat pants.
“missed you,” you hugged your mother tightly, face burring into her neck. you really, really did.
after that movie night with uncle satoru, you had felt off. your lower body ached and your head was fuzzy. you chalked it up to lack of sleep, but something deep down told you it wasn’t…. you were missing something big that happened but you couldn’t remember for the life of you. maybe it was the fact you woke up in your bed in a different pair of clothes, or maybe it was the weird sticky mess in your panties. the whole situation was off.
“she’s been an angel all week,” he told your parents with a hand on your shoulder. your parents told gojo he was so generous and that they were so thankful for helping them out. he even offered to let you stay with him when you went to college! your parents were so very happy to hear that, telling you it would be an amazing experience. you knew they just wanted you out the house, but all you could do was smile, not knowing what to do or say, showing gojo he got away with his sins that took place that night. showing him that he would be able to get away with something far, far worse.
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sensitiveheartless · 7 months
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Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.
~*~
Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.
Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.
His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.
Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.
Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.
Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.
And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.
In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.
In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.
Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.
For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.
Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.
As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.
Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.
“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”
Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.
“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”
Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.
“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.
Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.
…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.
“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”
Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.
One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.
Nothing happened.
Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.
His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.
It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.
After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.
When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.
His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.
At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.
“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”
“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”
“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”
Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”
There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.
It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.
“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”
That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.
After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.
“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.
“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.
“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”
Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”
“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.
“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.
“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.
“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”
Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.
“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.
“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”
Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”
“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”
Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”
Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”
Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”
Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff. 
Hiding again, Chuuya thought.
For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.
Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.
But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.
Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.
And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.
Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”
Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.
“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”
That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.
“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”
“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.
“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.
“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”
Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”
That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.
Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.
All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”
Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.
He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.
“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”
Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”
Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.
Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.
“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.
Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”
“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”
“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”
There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.
He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.
“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.
Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”
Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”
Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.
Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.
And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.
So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”
Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”
Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.
And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.
The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.
“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”
A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”
At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”
A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”
“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”
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stuckinapril · 4 months
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I genuinely love not having a crush like I’m not over here feeling physically sick over some mid guy being dry to me I’m literally chilling
#Spring semester of last year was so bad bc I was unironically into 3 guys at once and they were all#Being dry and cryptic to me#And then before that in 2022 I had my horrid situationship#I had a mini obsession arc in dec 2023 over someone but now there hasn’t been anyone since#And my palette is so cleansed#When a girl is like I miss having a crush I’m like you’re literally a masochist#There was very briefly a girl I thought I had a crush on when I realized I’m bicurious but#I haven’t put effort into talking to her bc the idea of pursuing anyone makes me wanna claw my eyes out#I’m pretty sure I ghosted her by like just not responding to her last messsge actually#Not on purpose but more so bc I realized I was feeling the same anxiety I felt whenever I had a crush so I was like#Yeah I’m dropping this for now#I’m also always the most present for my friends when I don’t have a crush so idk#Like I don’t wanna be consumed by anyone I just wanna chill#The solution to not having normal attraction to people is just to not be attracted to anyone at all#I fr cracked it#I always just crave the butterflies out of it and never an actual relationship anyway#But they’re so not worth it#Which is why I always get bored of guys who’re forthright like oh ok you actually WANT something…. U don’t wanna just have fun#Not for me#I think the guys I’m into and I typically diverge in the sense that neither of us wants a relationship but they just wanna fuck me#And I more so just want the butterflies experience / to playact couple for like a couple months but nothing too serious#Which is why it never works#Like it’s not that it doesn’t work bc either of us wants a relationship it’s more that what we want out of the situationship is different#So lame#Ok this was a lot but I literally came to this epiphany while writing these tags
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 months
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Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.
(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#a-qing#jin ling#wen ning#jiang cheng#“Hey wait this feels like there should have been way more content for questions” Yes. There was.#I was not strong enough to redraw *all* of what was lost. Rest in piece the original (lost to tea related accident)#But I'll tell you all the fun other things that would have been drawn out right here in the tags!#Did you know my longest posting streak was 61 days? And my longest hiatus was 6 days?#Did you know I missed posting on 92 days of those 500 days - meaning I posted 82% of the time on a daily basis?#I'm normal about collecting data. I have so much data on this blog for normal reasons. I'm also so normal about art. The normalest.#Honorable mention for the character rankings: Lan Wangji! for “Most improved in rank”.#Sorry Lan Wangji fans but until the audio drama I honestly was...pretty indifferent towards him.#I think a huge part of that was due to the fact he's constantly paired up with WWX; who has *so* much charisma and steals the scene#But I've really come to like him a lot more since starting this project. He rose from mid-tier to being in the top ten!#Dishonorable mention: Nie Huaisang. Who fell out of number 1 spot and out of the top 5.#He just hasn't shown up a lot! And my rankings are fickle! They will probably change once I finish the third season!#My favourite comics are: A lot of them! And the ones I have yet to make!#I'm very sleepy at the moment while writing this but I do want to give a huge shout out to YOU.#Yeah! you reading this! Thank you! If you've been here since the first week or just started reading: THANK YOU!#If you've only ever lurked and never even liked a single post but still read my comics: THANK YOU!!#In creating this blog - I have found 500 days of more happiness that I could have ever imagined.#Thank you for joining me on this journey. Thank you for giving me your time and your support.#It means more than any 'thank you' could say B'*)
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criticalrolo · 2 years
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I had a post a while ago about making sure your dnd character WANTS to be an adventurer a while ago, something else I’ve been thinking about is the importance of making a dnd character that WANTS to be in a group and have some sort of relationship with other PCs. the Group Nature of ttrpgs means lone wolves just aren’t feasible. if you really want to play a lone wolf or antisocial character at the beginning then I highly recommend telling your dm and the others players that you plan on forming bonds along the way and growing out of that mindset. otherwise why are you playing dnd, a group activity that involves cooperation and building relationships? Just Write A Book if you don’t wanna be in a group
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stevebabey · 6 months
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"Alright, here we go!" The bartender announces, leaning up to place the drinks on the bar.
"That's one whiskey, neat—" He says, sliding the lowball cocktail glass with amber liquid in front of Eddie.
"—And one Whammin' Slammin' Booty-Bangin' Pina Colada."
He places the extravagant cocktail in front of Steve. It's decorated to the nines with a straw, an umbrella, a piece of pineapple, and a little bit of tinsel on a toothpick. A whole party decoration in a drink.
"You guys have a good night." The bartender says warmly, already moving down the bar to tend to other customers.
Eddie stares down at the whiskey in the glass before him and pouts a little. Beside him and watching his boyfriend closely, Steve rolls his eyes.
"Oh, quit being dramatic," Steve says, sliding the cocktail across the bar so it's in front of Eddie, who had ordered it. He steals the glass of whiskey back at the same time.
"It happens every time."
"It happens most times."
"That isn't much better!" Eddie protests, even as he leans down and takes a long sip from the straw while they both get to their feet and leave the bar. Steve's hunting for a table they can snag, his eyes narrowed in focus. Eddie follows him blindly, his cocktail cupped in both hands.
"I'm serious, Steve! What is it about this adorable face—" He says, gesturing to himself, barely letting go of the straw to talk. It doesn't seem to faze him that Steve doesn't even glance back. "—Says I don't want to enjoy a Whammin' Bammin' Big Booty Colada?"
Steve comes to a stop, pausing his search for a moment to look back at Eddie. His expression seems unimpressed on the surface but Eddie can see his lips twitching up at the corners.
"We've had this conversation too many times, babe." He sighs halfheartedly and takes a quick sip of his own whiskey, eyes casting back out across the bar. "You have scary dog energy, you know this. You specifically dress like this on purpose."
Eddie picks up the pineapple wedged on the edge of his glass and bites into it, sending it down with another sip of his cocktail as Steve leads them further into the back of the bar. He finally spots a spare empty table.
"C'mon, I think I found one." Steve urges, one hand snaking back to make sure Eddie's following.
"Is it a crime to wish to not fall victim to stereotypes?" Eddie prattles on, following Steve duly by slipping his hand into Steve's outstretched one. His cocktail wobbles precariously as he takes another gulp.
"Like when that waitress gave me your awful black coffee! And you got my delicious delicacy that I paid extra hard-earned money for..."
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i like to think that when steve and eddie go out, people always lean into their assumptions and are like hmm ok preppy boy with the polo? oh he gets the fruity cocktail! and eddie is always like >:( i don't want this expensive puddle of piss gimme the bonanza supreme cocktail pls. like excuse me i paid for that.
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