#from. kazuha

[ciearcab]

unexpected rain

[pruwinkle]

mafia au anemo boys that i never got to post :>

[oli-is-doing-fine]

[wontonhasradsocks]

[viehlei]

Man gosho maybe I am too harsh with you sometimes...♡♡♡

[lesbianjodie]

You know I've been thinking, like. Since the detco movies aren't canon. They should totally do a silly (actually really serious and interesting) one where the culprit actually IS a real monster a la some scooby doo movies, you know? And then let the franchise go on as normal but now we know how the characters would respond to having ghosts in their soup.

[miyano-shiho4869]

so. you're telling me these girls are straight and both have male love interests? sounds kind of fake ngl.

[yuzuuu4]

a redraw of a redraw to prove i Still got it

[nomazee]

dan heng x gn reader — 1.6k — long overdue continuation of my dumb delinquent au (and the two remaining fans cheer in delight), high school au, probably very americanized, probably ooc, very super incredibly vague implications to sad things but it's so blink-and-you'll-miss-it, himeko is dan heng's adoptive guardian in this au, do u guys hate me for the hoops i'm jumping through to squeeze every character in this au, reluctant friends-to-crush-to-lovers fast/slow burn unbearable unspoken feelings trope

drabble no. 1 of this series/universe, u should probably read this first heh...

notes: hi guys, i'm back after taking yet another unplanned year-long hiatus, hope u missed me! (the crowd stays quiet) i bring u another delinquent au drabble because the worms got to me and i couldn't help it OK, OKAY?!?! enjoy! :3

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

Dan Heng hasn’t seen much of you in the last week. 

It’s unusual, he defends his worries to himself, very unusual. Despite not having a single class with you, he sees you often. In the last few months since he’s known you, he’s seen you at least three times a week after school, sometimes bloody and other times free of any injury, but the point is, he sees you. Talks to you, lets you walk him home (and pointedly doesn’t let you take him to any antique stores or overpriced tea shops on the way there). 

Today is Friday, and the fifth day straight that he’s stood in the courtyard behind the school for thirty minutes after dismissal, waiting for you to show up, appearing in a breeze of glitter and dust like a poorly-practiced magician. It’s the fifth day straight that you haven’t shown up, and he’s starting to realize how paradoxical your friendship feels. 

Dan Heng is hesitant to even call it a friendship. It feels weird—it’s like he’s known you for years, like he’s grown up with you on the same block in the same neighborhood, except in truth he’s only known you for three months, and he just learned your birthday last week after (embarrassingly) prying it out of you. He doesn’t know where you live, which front door to knock on so that he can check up on you, he doesn’t even have your phone number. All he can do is circle the perimeter of school grounds, waiting for you to show up, or looking for a top hat somewhere so he can pull you up out of it like he’s the poorly-practiced magician and you’re the bunny that he’s unethically shoved into a top hat. 

Luckily for him, though, fifth time’s the charm, and on his (miserable, lonely) walk home, he bumps into you as he rounds the corner to his block. Like, really bumps into you.

He hears a semi-familiar shout of horror as he stumbles back, the sudden slam of pressure on his nose making his eyes water, and he clasps his hands over his nose (it doesn’t hurt that bad, he swears), and then your hands are grabbing his shoulder and giving him a firm shake before he can even process that it’s you he’s just stumbled into. 

“Oh!” You shout, and he registers the tilt of your head through his watery, cloudy vision, “It’s you! I was looking for you.”

Dan Heng feels like— laughing, dryly, or maybe grabbing your shoulders back and shaking you until you reflect on how ridiculous you sound—as if he wasn’t the one wandering school grounds for an hour each day for the last week in search of you, like a lost dog, and god he really hopes no one caught him doing that, but at the very least March 7th definitely saw him, which means it’s going to hit the rest of his social circle eventually and he’ll have to hang his head in shame and stay silent when all his friends ask him why he was moping for five days straight. 

“Looking for me?” he mumbles, repeating your words instead of coming up with a thought of his own because he’s still sort of reeling from the sudden sight of you and the buzzing ache in his nose. “Am I bleeding?” 

“Oh,” you say, yet again, and he feels your hands take his wrists and pull them away from his face so that you can get a good glimpse of him. “Nope, no blood. Thank god. I’d feel really bad if I had to return you to Himeko with your face mangled.” 

“Return me,” he echoes again, and in two seconds flat he sobers up and straightens his posture and finally gets a good look at your face. “What? Where have you been?” 

“Around,” you answer vaguely, like you always do, and Dan Heng is now half a step closer to actually shaking you by your shoulders and turning you upside down until the truth falls out of your pockets like cartoon coins. “I’m back now, though! I wasn’t going to get a perfect attendance award anyways, so it’s kind of whatever.” Your lips quirk up into a stupid smile, and your eyes are scanning his face and his potentially bruised nose bridge. “Did you miss me?” 

“Yeah,” he admits, like an idiot, and he unfortunately doesn’t miss the sudden stalling of your expression, the way your smile freezes for half a second and the twitch in your brow. “No,” he quickly rights, but it’s a moot point by now, “whatever. What do you mean, around? Have you been at school at all this week?” He finally looks down at your clothes, which are very much not any kind of school-uniform-adjacent garb, but rather a collared shirt with some kind of logo on the top left. 

“I’ve been working,” you say, and it’s maybe the most honest and straightforward answer that Dan Heng will ever get from you, so he relishes in it for a moment. “You know, a job. Have you heard of that before? Jobs? Employment?” 

“That’s allowed? Are we allowed to work?” 

“Well,” and you do it again, glance off to the side before coming back to him, “I hope so. I’m not looking to quit this job so soon. They hired me, so it’s all good. I just had to miss school this week so they could train me, but I’ll be back on Monday. You’ll get your daily dose of me again soon, don’t worry!” 

Working. Dan Heng doesn’t know much about your schedule, what you do after school besides annoy him and walk him home and get into fights with seemingly invisible and untraceable and unnameable people, but this feels like one more piece in a thousand-piece puzzle where half the pieces have been drenched in water and bent. He feels two steps away from knowing more about you at the same time that he feels miles away. 

“I’m at the movie theatre,” you tell him, “so you should come visit with your friends some day. Four to ten P.M. on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You can introduce me to your friends properly, you know,” and you have that nearly-tense, nearly-dishonest quirk of your lips, and you’re looking right at him like you’re trying to tell him something without saying it, “unless you’re too embarrassed to let them meet me.” 

This is not the first time you’ve said things like this, not by a long shot. Dan Heng thinks back, and is sure that you say something along the lines of aren’t you embarrassed at least once for every two times that he talks to you. Scared you’ll get caught with me? you asked him just last week, like being with you was a surefire way to get cursed or shunned or ostracized. Dan Heng doesn't get it, and it doesn't sound like you want him to. 

“No,” he says, steadfast, realizing belatedly that your hands are still around his wrists from when you’d tugged them down off his face, and his skin beneath your fingers is heating up rapidly, but so are the tips of his ears. “That’s not it,” and he really doesn’t have the strength to say anything deeper than that, so he dodges, “what were you doing on my street? Did you go to my house?” 

You’ve been caught. Sheepishly, you let go of his wrists, one hand going up to scratch the back of your neck instead, looking at his neighbor’s dead half-dead rose bush next to the sidewalk. “I kind of figured maybe I’d check in on you, or something. Ask to hang out. But when I came at three, you weren’t home yet, so I just kind of hung out with your mom. I was leaving just now. Figured you were busy, or something?” 

It’s an open-ended question, one that Dan Heng is very unwilling to honestly answer—if he did, he’d have to admit that the task that was oh-so-arduously occupying his time after school was sitting in the courtyard like a grieving wife waiting for her spouse to come home from war. He shakes his head instead of explaining anything—that should be enough of an answer. 

“She gave me cookies,” you continue in lieu of a real response from Dan Heng. “Seriously, am I the only one that eats them, or am I, like, stealing your only source of food every time I come over?” 

“The first one. I hate those things. They’re dry. I don’t understand how you eat them like that.” 

“Woah! Rude! Whatever, more for me. Hey, you’ll help me with all that schoolwork I missed, right?” You punch him in the shoulder playfully, which might’ve knocked the wind out of him had it been aimed any closer at his sternum. “I think we have almost all the same teachers. And I'm a quick learner, so it won't be so bad for you."

“Fine,” he says with a faux reluctance that would really only be convincing to a child, “I can walk you home.” 

“Haha,” and you punch his shoulder again, soothing it this time with a pat before you trail your hand up to the side of his neck, clasping the side of it with your warm palm, like you’re holding his pulse in your hand, and Dan Heng holds his breath so you won’t easily feel the rapid thump of blood underneath his skin, “maybe next time, champ.” 

You’re smiling again, laughing when you look at the paling expression on his face, like you know something he doesn’t, and he barely has time to feel disappointed at your easy rejection before you laugh, breathy, one more time, and say goodbye. 

(Himeko, to Dan Heng’s utter misery, hounds him for “details, the whole story, what did they say, Heng?!” the second he steps into the threshold of his house, keys still dangling from his hand. Terrible, awful, miserable. He does in fact, tell her everything.)

[aeraras]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ　𓉯ྀ ͚ㅤ　　ㅤ𝓋ℴℊ𝓊ℯㅤㅤ　ㅤ݃　　 ྀི　　𓈒　ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ𐙚ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⌷

[luvuomi]

“On the 𝔀ings of a small, simple 𝓶elody

Words take 𝐟light and 𝐬oar

They carry me

A 𝒘orld we'll see . . . ”

a single verse that faintly echoes throughout an empty auditorium; written on delicate parchment, it’s penmanship elegant yet faded with time. though an enchanted being meant to be revered by the awe-like gaze of many, this enigmatic dove has chosen to soar beyond the cosmos where it remains out of sight. once upon a time, miss amélie had once taken to the spotlight, dazzling the citizens of penacony with her soft charm that many likened to the moonlight’s glow. but the amélie of today has since retired from the stage—the details of which she did not enlighten me with nor did i push for after seeing that wistful look in her eyes—and now continues her journey as but a humble songwriter for others.

“i wish to lend my voice to others.. for those who wish to be seen, heard, and remembered. there was a time in which i once felt forgotten by the world, overlooked as a dimly-lit star amongst a sky of countless others who’s light burns brightly. in order to be saved, i too must burn.. or so i thought. this song was created at a time in which i wanted to be heard, and i was. in that sense, i suppose you could say i sympathize with them.”

this was the response the halovian had given me when asked to explain what she believes her purpose as a songwriter is. when i asked miss amélie about whether or not she would ever consider returning to the life of stardom, the young lady merely smiled as she folded up the parchment in her hand, before deftly tucking it away in her old song-writing book.

“my story has been told. i have nothing else to share that i feel needs to be acknowledged. in any case, i’m quite certain we’ll bare witness to many more fascinating stories in the coming years.” a pause. “… i’ll make sure of it.”

— an excerpt from moonlight’s silent voice: an exclusive interview from penacony’s hidden star, amélie.

🎨 →⠀﹐⠀╱⠀hsr! amélie was brought to life by the amazing @charlikesalmon !! AAAAA THEY DID SUCH AN INCREDIBLE JOB this is my second time working with char and to say i’m satisfied would be such an understatement🥹🤍they truly captured what i had envisioned and made it a reality AND IT CAME OUT SO CUTE AND LOVELY OH MY GOODNESS.. i would recommend anyone interested to please check them out and support!

[kugisakiss]

screenshot redraw of that one scene where kazuha-chan picks up conan and they stare at each other with absolutely no thoughts in their heads for an unreasonable amount of time

ep872 btw

[varus-messy-room]

more kazuscara for you people alt version below because i couldn't pick lmao

[cosmic-phantom-cafe]

No clear thinking just a bunch of blurbs of MEN you’ll be getting from me

Yandere Brant cock giving his signature satisfy whistle affer cumming in your hole to slowly pull out with a plop and very much satisfied seeing you so stuffed

Yandere Wrio having you cuffed to finger your puff hole and your so close and he pulls out and leaves you frustrated and still hot and bothered and what does this man do? Go ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ because your “please” wasnt convincing enough

Yandere Kazuha who not exactly fingering you but it feels very much he is when your both in his bed and his hands and fingers at lightly rubbing your clothed clit. His way with his fingers having you now moving your hips along with with his fingers.

On the other hand being fingered by yandere scara will have you begging to stop. Damn him and his fingers and the fact he not even human means his needs and stamina are of complete different levels. What you want to stop now? If you wanted to you’d say something but you’re too busy crying and moaning. Tsk tsk stupid human you should really speak your needs more

You swear it’s been hours of yandere jiaoqiu been licking and eating you out and he still not done. Your body ready to call it quits but that’s not fair you were so well behaved that he let you eat whatever you wanted for dessert he deserves the same too for being so diligent about your food intake, so let him savor and enjoy your pussy for as long as his heart can take

[soveryanon]

Well-adjusted teenagers

[fure-dcmk]

Kazuha introducing her polycule: This is my boyfriend, Heiji. This is Heiji's boyfriend, Kudo-kun. This is Kudo-kun's girlfriend Ran, who is also my girlfriend.

they got two hands!!!!