#if he could

[crabsnpersimmons]

I can't help but love how u accessorize the dca boys~ but for the have you eaten au, have u thought of giving each of the dangle earing the boys wear a utensil? Like a fork spoon & knife lil accessorie?

aww thank you, sweet anon!

let's see what the boys think:

Moon: oughhhh but wouldn't it be cute? i would love a little spoon! or stars! or konpeito! or or--

Sun: The added accessories would affect our signal.

Eclipse (thinking about all the piercings he would get if he could get them)

Eclipse: sadly, these are just magnetic clip-ons. We only really wear them when we go out because some of our older clientele don't approve of them—a little too punk for them. They barely even approved of seeing robots in the restaurant, but at least back then we had Boss to vouch for us.

so basically the three DCA boys may have separate bodies, but their code requires them to stay within a certain distance to one another—which wasn't a problem when they still worked at their old pizzaplex.

but nowadays, sometimes they need to go a further distance (for example, two of them stay at the restaurant while one goes shopping). in that case, the earrings serve as a signal extender so they can run their errands (legitimately, i looked up wi-fi extenders as inspiration for the earrings 😂 that's why they all consist of bars of some sort)

Eclipse wears his the most often because he likes to go out sometimes and be alone. Moon will wear his often because he likes the dangling parts. Sun wears his the most sparingly because he doesn't get out much, so he sees no reason to wear them if he doesn't need to go out (so if you ever see me forget to draw his earrings... it's usually on purpose... usually)

[potahun]

rewatched the donghai battle just because and i'm once again very unwell about how QUIET they both are during the fight, barely making any huffs or grunts at all -- it contributes hugely to the whole "this fight looks like a romantic dance" thing except, li xiangyi is very much trying to kill him

[renard-dartigue]

No one. Absolutely no one:

Sunglasses Vessel:

BBB^ ]

B:B:B:^ ]

B;B;B;^ ]

[bumbleboa]

I own a fairly old Cintiq that gets quite warm by the end of the day. Now that it is cold out, my cats love to come and shove themselves between me and the Cintiq to soak up maximum warmth and for maximum distraction.

[slythereen]

"i'd like to try to catch perez but we have too much saving to do"

this is why i love charles.

[auncyen]

something something yaldabaoth looking at previous wild cards (ESPECIALLY minato) and then akiren and is like "igor you're proving my point humanity just wants someone to fix things for them. I am the ultimate endpoint, skip the wildcards"

telling akiren that he is supposed to use his confidants and seeing akiren instead go above and beyond for many of them and is just like "you would make a good cup. what a good grail. but don't you just want to smite them all instead"

[rennarita]

nobody loves cheese quite like neville loves cheese.

[inspectorspacetimerevisited]

Even if the Prime Minister himself asked, the Inspector wouldn’t simply pop back to prevent the Post Office scandal.

If he could save a large number of sub-postmasters from going through all the legal processes they went through? Apparently not.

[deathfavor]

WHAT COLOUR DOES YOUR LOVE FEEL LIKE?

deep, staining red

Ripped out confessions, warm velvety whispers and a heart like an open wound. Your love flows out like dripping blood, beautiful, flawed and twisted. It's gut wrenching, the type of painfully dramatic feeling that makes you clutch your chest, picturing dramatic monologues about love and loving and big screen over the top scenes of sobbing into your pillow until you fall asleep. It rips out of you, clawing it's way up your throat more so than tumbling out. Sticky words that just need to be let out, feelings so big they don't fit inside you. Your love isn't easy, it's a true bloody mess, dripping and staining everything it touches in a desperate attempt to be seen, to be felt, to be loved back. And you, you love so hard, so deeply, so much for someone who carries all that pain. Atlas holding up the world, how are you? Is your love still flowing? Is your heart still open? Still pumping and bleeding and dripping with blood and tears? Still painting your beautiful pictures and writing your love letters in deeply personal red ink? Because I see them, I read them, I love them and you, you, you, you. Clench your chest, scream your love, cry it out. Spill your words of loving, keep your heart beating, keep your love coming and paint the entire world red with it. Make it in your image, keep going, it's okay. Maybe one day the whole world can be red and loved and beautiful just like you.

dark stormy blue

Sinking ships, raging seas and tumultuous hearts, love isn't easy for you. It's a struggle, a constant inner fight of should I? Can I? Do I? Feelings are hard and they rumble inside you in a dissatisfied mess that begs to be let out. Your heart screams and cries inside you and you... You can't, you won't. You're scared. And love is scary, it's hard and sometimes it just doesn't work out. People leave, people hurt, people change their minds. And you and your cold stormy heart yearn for the calmness, for the distance, to be allowed and able to simply not feel. And yet, you do. It rages, it fights and storms inside you and you try to keep it down, keep it quiet, to feel pretending not to. It's the burn of childhood friends growing apart, of parents that aren't quite there, of relationships that burn out. So you snuff it down with water, cold and calming and blue, blue, blue. But being loved by you is blue too, just not in that way. It's the soothing, embracing feeling of floating, the moment when you sink down bellow the waves and become one with the water, with everything. It's the balance, the dramatic yet calming sound of waves that crash against a rocky shore. You're the good and the bad, the violence of the storm and the watery peace right after. You're the blue, blue feeling and loving you is watery tears, yelled confessions that no one will hear and burying your feelings in a deep watery grave never to be found out about. Your love is dark stormy blue, it's vast and deep and all encompassing, it's safety in the surface of danger, it's trusting the unruly abyss and yet I'd gladly risk drowning just to feel what it's like being loved by you.

i stole this from my old blog when i did chrollo’s, so feel free to take it! 

Chrollo’s under the cut bc, well i did his before.

cold stark gold

Fireworks, borrowed lighters and sparklers against a dark backdrop, yours is a love that burns stark and bright. It's scary though, like things that burn always tend to be, but for you it isn't the thrill of the open flames that gives pause and a slight stomach drop of terror, but rather the time when the flames go out, the sparkler ends and the night is cold and dark once again. Fireworks, borrowed lighters, a striken match, your love burns bright and fast and then maybe it passes, maybe the feeling dies out and you're left in the cold once again. And that's the feeling isn't it? Of being bored and waiting for someone to light you up again? To be fair, you do know you don't need it, but then again we don't often crave the things we need. And you crave and yearn and burn in the wait, restless in the knowledge that at some point someone will pass and rub you the right way, that some day you'll light up the night sky bright yet again. There's comfort in the darkness and solace in the predictable loneliness of the in between, but your heart still squirms inside you, waiting and willing and begging to burn up again. Your love might not be comfort, it's not one for the sick days, but then again, there's a reason why everyone waits for the shining lights in the sky during holidays.

[candlewick-corporation]

Just realized I'm speedrunning adopting as many traumatized kids in any way I can.

[kyofsonder]

For the OC asks, for Stray Cu'taeru:

🕐🛏️

Thank you for the ask, and for the chance to talk about Stray! I've been neglecting the WIP he stars in, but I still think about him a lot so it's nice to share those thoughts sometimes.

🕐: Was there ever a time your OC would have given everything to turn back the clock 5 minutes? What happened?

A: A big part of Stray's story is the way he's clung onto precisely those times in his life – agonizing over the ways he could have changed things if he had only made better choices. He's wished to turn back the clock and better protect his loved ones many times over the last few centuries, and the decisions he wants to redo usually are made in five minutes or less. How he could have grabbed a friend's hand and run away together instead of fleeing on his own. How he could have stood in front of his wife to defend her, instead of hiding in the trees. How he could have spoken to the kid who'd thought of him as a pet cat, just once, instead of sneaking away in the night. How, if he'd made a portal to Earth just a few minutes earlier, he could have kept Marco from dying altogether. Each time, he seriously considers giving up his own happiness – and his own life – for the chance to go back. Unlike some of my characters in other WIPs, he never gets the chance. He gets lingering memories instead, and headmates formed from those memories.

🛏️: What does your OC’s bed look like? What would they like their bed to look like?

A: Stray usually adapts to whatever type of bed will seem most "normal" for the form he's taken and the culture he's trying to blend into, and this is especially true when he copies Marco's form to live as a normal human. His bed in the Treen household is a simple twin mattress on a simple wooden frame, with blue plaid sheets and a comforter that Marco's mom gave him as a birthday present years ago. One side has cats on a green background, the other side is a simple earth-brown tone. He used to keep the cat side hidden when his friends came over, but he isn't as anxious about their reactions to it anymore. Stray's ideal bed, however, would be a warm basket – a sturdier, better insulated version of the one he used to sleep in when he was a pet cat and his owner would take him on errands, with familiar-smelling blankets and a stuffed animal or pillow he could hug. One that could change size to match whatever form he's in when he finally gives in to his own exhaustion. He'll take a sun-baked patch of grass, too, though it doesn't have the same feeling of safety or comfort.

* * * *

Motivated by This Ask: 251 words

Total Written Due to Asks: 22,688 words

[unsung-idiot]

don't show him modern technology; it won't end well

bonus under the cut:

[itsdabatt]

when your crime lord son has glow in the dark eyes

[cowboysmp3]

there’s something sooo sickening about how dunmeshis whole energy is like sometimes something terrible and awful happens to you and it changes you forever and nothing can make you the person you were before but there’s still love and there’s still sharing a meal together and there’s still living

[hiveswap]

my heavy smoker grandparents came over very briefly and the whole house smells like absolute shit now. So I (chronic tumblrina) got thinking.

[astronomical-bagel]