#just a bit of angst

[aziraphaledrawings]

They are my silly billys and no one can change that

[chenford24-7]

I’m here for this.

[up-up-downtime]

okay hear me out

this has probably been done before obvi. but like AU where norman gets FEDDD up and unleashed his inner aggie abilities

like maybe sumn akin to Chronicle (the movie) but he slowly figures out he can do more than just see ghosts and shit such as but not limited to:

[fanfics-cause-i-can]

Don’t Leave Me: Chapter 1

In which this time the newest villain is different. This time, he’s not akumatized. He’s just a normal human. But sometimes normal humans are the most dangerous, and our two heroes find that out the hard way.

Miraculous Ladybug and Cat Noir AU: In which Ladybug is realizing she does have feelings for Cat Noir, and in which Cat Noir still loves her.

Author’s Notes: Hiya! So imma just apologize now because yes this has some angsty stuff. Sorry but also ✨ not sorry✨. So as for some background info, this is chapter one of a story I’ve decided to work on because the idea popped into my head and I wanted to run with it. It’s probably gonna be a bit messy because I reaaally don’t want to edit it, but we’ll see.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Akuma Trouble

Word Count: ~2000 words

Unedited

Running swiftly along the Paris rooftops, Ladybug winced as she saw another group of people get turned into pigeons. Rolling her eyes at the ridiculous situation, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath and try calling Cat Noir. Again.

“Has the cat got your tongue? Leave a message,” his voicemail said. Ending the call, this time without leaving a message, Ladybug sighed and rubbed between her eyes, trying to work away the impending headache she felt.

“Fe-line alright m’lady?” A voice said from behind her. She sighed without turning around.

“I’m fine kitty. Just tired and so very ready to go home and sleep for the next year,” Ladybug said. Her black clad partner came to stand beside her with a half smile.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He agreed with her. They both knew that things had gotten harder ever since Shadowmoth found out how to break past the magical charms Ladybug gave to people they saved, and Cat Noir knew how much pressure Ladybug was under now that she was guardian.

“If only she would let me help her.” He thought to himself. He straightened up and held out a hand with a more enthusiastic smile. Ladybug glanced up at him and saw the hopeful shimmer in his eyes and it immediately reminded her that she wasn’t alone, and never would be. “Come on m’lady. We’ve got this one. I bet we could do it in record time today too.” He smiled. She took his hand and smiled back.

“You’re right. We got this.” She replied. When they got to the Tower, Mr. Pigeon cackled down at them from within the ball of pigeons circling around him.

“Well well well. If it isn’t the bug and the kitten.”

“Ha ha. Hilarious. Just as hilarious as the first ten times,” Ladybug grumbled under her breath, her tiredness giving way to a sudden spurt of sarcasm. Cat Noir stifled a laugh through a cough before nudging her lightly with his shoulder. She looked up at him and he winked, making her break out into a small smile and easing the tension in the air.

“Go right, I’ll go left,” she muttered to him. He gave a small nod before watching her call upon her lucky charm. A red bag fell from the air and she caught it, opening it up and smirking at the contents.

“Nevermind kitty. I think todays akuma will be a bit more simple than we thought.” Cat Noir looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She reached in the bag, snatching a handful of the contents before whistling to get Mr. Pigeons attention.

“Hey birdbrain. You hungry?” She threw out her hand, scattering breadcrumbs from the bag all over the concrete ground. The flock of pigeons all flew directly for the scattered food, despite the cries of protest from Mr. Pigeon himself. Ladybug dumped the rest of the crumbs out in a pile and Cat Noir watched with an amused smile as she used her yo-yo to swing up to the defeated villain. He leaned on his staff and kept an eye out as his partner gently grabbed the bird call and broke it, capturing the akuma and setting free the white butterfly.

She swung the deakumatized Mr. Ramier down to the ground as he apologized the entire time.

“I’m so sorry Ladybug, I truly am. I don’t know what happened, I just-…”

“Mr. Ramier,” interrupted Ladybug, holding up a hand. “It’s okay. I’ve told you this before. Cat Noir and I will always be here for you. We’ll always be here for anyone who gets akumatized. You don’t need to apologize,” she placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “We all get mad, we all get upset. It’s called being human.” Mr. Ramier gave a timid smile and nodded. Ladybug reached into her yo-yo, pulling out a new charm for the pigeon lover and smiled as she handed it to him.

Cat Noir watched with a loving smile as she threw her lucky charm into the air, scattering magic ladybugs all over Paris to repair any damage caused. Mr. Ramier walked off with a wave and then Ladybug let her superhero facade slip. Her shoulders slumped and she rubbed between her eyes again, causing Cat Noir to stare at her with a concerned look.

“Are you sure you’re okay m’lady?” He asked gently. “I know it’s been a lot lately. And you know that you can talk to me. I’m you’re partner after all.” He said. She sighed and looked at him, eyes tired.

“I would say yes, I’m fine, but I feel like you’d call me out on my lie,” she said with a half smirk that appeared for only a second. “I’m just tired. And I’ve got a wicked headache, probably from lack of sleep. On top of this, I’m running out of excuses to tell people about me disappearing all the time. Oh, and homework is a thing that I never do.” She listed off. Cat Noir winced, knowing exactly what she was feeling. The pressure of having a double life, it wasn’t easy.

“How about this. Do you have anything pressing going on tonight?” He asked. She raised an eyebrow before thinking for a moment.

“I guess not. It’s a Friday after all.”

“Perfect. Then you go home, get some rest, and meet me back here, on top of the Eiffel Tower at say, ten, okay?” He said.

“Kitty…”

“Nope,” he said, popping the P. “You, m’lady, need a break. If only for an evening.” He said. Then he softened his eyes and grabbed her shoulders. “Please Ladybug.” She bit her lip before nodding reluctantly. Cat Noir gave her a quick hug, and tried to ignore his pounding heart, before letting her go and watching her leave with a wave.

“Now for actually planning something,” he muttered as he started running towards his own house.

<<<{}>>>

“He suggested it, and besides, he’s right. It’s been forever since I’ve just talked to him, plus we both need a break,” Marinette said from her spot on her bed. Alya nodded in agreement.

“I know you do. You work so hard girl, not just as Ladybug, but as Marinette too. You need to take a minute for you.”

“Well hopefully tonight goes off without any problems,” Marinette yawned. “I hope he doesn’t plan something that means having to move any more than necessary. I think I’d fall asleep.” Alya just laughed at her friend with a shake of the head.

“Go get some rest Marinette. Then go have a good night with Cat Noir. You deserve it,” she blew a kiss at the screen before it went black, leaving Marinette alone to be devoured by her own thoughts.

“We can’t do this Tikki. He’s too strong, and getting stronger every day,” Marinette said, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes to prevent tears from falling. A small pressure on her forearm made her look to see the small red kwami gently hugging her arm.

“Just because Shadowmoth is getting stronger, doesn’t mean you aren’t. You’re doing amazing Marinette. You need to have more faith in yourself and Cat Noir.” Tikki told her. Marinette sniffed before pulling her blankets up to her chin, Tikki snuggling in close to her cheek.

“I know, Tikki. I’m just worried. Cat Noir and I… we’re just kids. I can see it on his face too, this is taking a toll on us both. And just imagine, if my magical ladybugs couldn’t fix the damages afterwards who knows if Paris would even still be standing. Who knows how many people would be hurt, or worse.”

“Well it’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about that, isn’t it?” Tikki smiled. “Things will be okay Marinette. Remember how many Ladybugs there were before you and remember that no matter what, they all made it through. And so can you.” Marinette smiled at her kwami.

“Thanks Tikki. You’re the best.” She said quietly before drifting off into a much needed sleep.

On the other side of things, Adrien Agreste too was laying on his bed with his own thoughts.

“Why won’t she just let me help her Plagg?” He said. The kwami of destruction, who was currently searching through Adriens room to find some cheese, stopped and rolled his eyes.

“Because she’s a Ladybug. In all my centuries of working alongside Sugarcube and her holder, never once did any of those holders ask for help if they needed, because they never think they need it. It’s the stubbornness of every Ladybug.” Adrien let out a small huff of disappointment before sitting up and watching the small black kwami flit about his room.

“Well I already knew she was stubborn. But-…” he rubbed his hands down his face, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. “We’re all each other has now. Shadowmoth has taken away so much. We need each other.”

“If I was you, I’d just focus on the job at hand. Finding me more camembert,” Plagg replied. Adrien chuckled, but still felt a pit in his stomach.

“Fine. But let’s make this quick. I still need to set up for tonight.”

<<<{}>>>

Marinette woke up hours later, just before nine, feeling only slightly more rested than before, but ready for her meet with her feline partner.

“How about something to eat and then a short patrol Tikki?” She asked as she climbed down from her loft bed. Her kwami yawned before nodding eagerly at the promise of food. Marinette chuckled before grabbing her purse and heading down the stairs where her parents were sitting in the living room.

“Oh, there you are Marinette. We were wondering if you were ever going to come down,” her mom smiled. Marinette yawned and smiled back.

“Sorry mom, I fell asleep. Turns out I’m pretty tired. It’s been a big week,” she replied.

“You overdo it Marinette. You’re always running, doing things for others. You need to rest more,” her mom tutted. Marinette went over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“If only you knew, mom.” She thought to herself. “Don’t worry about me mom. I know what I’m doing, and besides, if I can help people I will.”

“I know darling.” Her mom said lovingly before patting her on the cheek. “Dinner’s in the fridge if you want. And there’s some leftover macarons from today downstairs in the back.”

“You’re the best, mom,” Marinette said before running downstairs to get Tikki some food.

A plain, unbranded box was soon filled with the leftover macarons, some for Tikki and some for Cat Noir, unbranded just so Cat Noir didn’t suspect anything.

Cat Noir. She was so thankful to have him. So proud to be able to call him her partner. And so very concerned about him.

She had grown attached. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that if she didn’t have Cat Noir, she wouldn’t still be doing this. His undying loyalty, his commitment to her and their job, and even his everlasting positivity in any situation. If something ever happened to him…

“Well it’s a good think nothing will ever happen.” She told herself.

“It’s almost 9:30 Marinette. Don’t you think it’s time to go?” Tikki said, bringing her out of her thoughts. Marinette turned and forced a half smile grabbing the box and going back upstairs past her parents who just waved and said goodnight, and back into her room.

“Come on Marinette. Have some fun tonight. Relax. Enjoy the time with Cat Noir.” Tikki told her. Marinette just nodded and called upon her transformation, snatching the macarons before swinging out of her room and into the darkened Paris sky towards the Eiffel Tower where her partner was patiently waiting.

[lovely-v]

I feel like some Fall Out Boy songs sound stupid until you listen to them in a very specific state of turmoil and then you’re like oh I get it hahaha yeah cheers Patrick yeah I’m gonna need u to sing that for me fifteen more times

[hyenaa-euphoria]

hope 1/???

more angst!! i am actually building an au around this comic but I’ve never done aus before so like this is new to me!!!

[thebibliosphere]

A friend gifted me Gotham Knights on Steam after I expressed a vague interest in it. I believe my exact words were, "The color of the cover art is very cyberpunk bisexual, and I love that for them."

A lot of key smashing ensued, followed by, "No, wait, you have to play it, you have to. Don't ask why. You'll know when you see it."

After spending a substantial few hours with my new dopamine generator, zipping around Gotham as various different heroes, grappling my way across the skyline, and driving my motorbike into walls (sorry, random Gothamites.) I got to the part of the story where Dick Grayson is seen drinking from a bisexual-themed Bludhaven mug (WE WANTS IT, PRECIOUS, WE NEEDS IT), followed by Babs posting a gossip article in the literal batfam group chat (I have no idea when she actually sent it, I keep forgetting to check the chat lmao) where Dick fully leans into being Bruce's son by being the biggest, sluttiest fuckboy imaginable when the male interviewer asks Dick if he has a "type" then describes the way Dick drops his voice to an "intimate purr, his gaze for me and me alone" followed by the most bisexual response ever which can be summarized as "People are gorgeous. All of them. Why restrict myself to an archetype when the world is full of beauty?"

And can I just say, as a slutty, slutty bisexual *chef kiss* love that for him. That and all the nude photoshoot offers he seems to be getting lmao.

Combine that with the interactions where Tim talks to the batfam about his boyfriend, asking for relationship advice (Babs telling Tim she's hopeless with guys, so to ask Dick instead), Dick suggesting Robin and Nightwing should go to Gotham Pride in costume so people know the batman are firmly in camp LGBTQ+ (followed up by an email between Babs and Jayson where they talk about wanting to go to Pride to support Tim so he'll know they're proud of him), the rainbow flags in the living room, and the trans, bi, pan and I think non-binary flag (need to check, might be demisexual) bike color options, I can honestly say I'm having a lot of fun careering round Gotham like the most terrifyingly competent, backflipping, Solo Pride Parade that's ever swung out of the skyline to dropkick a cop into oncoming traffic.

[slutstarion]

astarion cheek kisses

After he mends your favourite shirt, you give him a small peck on the cheek as thanks. He all but freezes as his mind blanks, not able to decipher what had just happened. He raises his hand to his face and lets his finger linger over where your lips were and wonders how this warmth had got there and is confused as to why he likes it so.

He had always done small acts like helping you carry your camp supplies but he starts doing even more in hopes of feeling that soft buzz on his cheek again. When he sees you doing your laundry by yourself at a river, he rushes over and finishes them all himself. Whenever he hunts, he brings back a rabbit or a squirrel and roasts it over the campfire for dinner, even feeding you himself once. He does such acts and waits for you to give him another peck but to no avail. You, not noticing this sort-of mission he has undertaken on a daily basis, think nothing of it as he has always helped you out in small ways like this anyways. He, not realising that you have been resisting the urge to give him all the hugs and kisses he's been desiring so as to not make him uncomfortable, reaches his limit and finally speaks up about it.

"Why haven't you done the thing?"

"What thing?"

"It's been three whole days without you doing the thing!"

"What the hells are you talking about?"

He points to his cheek.

Oh.

You smile and walk up to him, caressing one side of his face and giving him a small kiss on the other.

"You can just ask, you know."

He smirks, pointing to his lips this time and says, "do the thing."

[brucewaynehater101]

For those Titan's Tower AUs where Tim is all like, "That's Jason, so I'll let him torture/kill me when he pops by," what if Red Hood walks in on Robin being extra prepared. Tim greets him at the door with a smile, beckons him on over, and shows him the table of torture devices he gathered. It's almost like a kid trying to show their parent the amazing job they did in hopes they'll be praised.

"I wasn't sure which ones you preferred to use, so I grabbed a variety just in case."

[hairmetal666]

He hates Steve Harrington, everything about him. His stupid, upbeat pop music. His tall fucking hair. His annoyingly bright clothes. His bullshit German luxury car.

Eddie hates that Steve's a good guy. Hates that he carried Eddie's broken and dying body out of hell. Hates that the kids love him how they do. Hates that he and Robin Buckley are the kind of best friends who might as well be siblings. Hates the way that Jonathan is back and Nancy is happy, and Steve has no resentment about any of it. Hates that he'll never, for as long as he lives, forget about six kids and a Winnebago.

And he hates, more than anything of all, the way he's always finding himself in Steve's bed. The way he falls apart when Steve is deep inside, the way he begs for more, pleads for Steve to wreck him. The way Steve treats him so good that it makes him sob.

Eddie hates himself for not being able to stop. For wanting Steve so much that sometimes he feels it as a visceral ache in the back of his molars. He hates himself for how little fight his dumb traitor heart puts into not being astronomically down bad in love with the guy immediately.

And none of this is supposed to flow from his brain to his tongue to out of his mouth, but Steve fucks him so good and slow--gives him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life--that it all just slips out of the safe confines of his mind.

"I fucking hate you," he says. Or pants, more like, he's all flushed and sweaty and covered in come, not yet settled back to himself.

"W-what?" Steve stutters. He's standing at the edge of the bed, damp towel clenched in his fist.

True, full consciousness strikes then and he doesn't know what else to say. Steve's big eyes are wide and sad, and Eddie's brain is screaming at him to fix it, and isn't that just another thing that he hates?

"Steve. Like. Fucking look at yourself, man." He waves his hand up Harrington's perfect body. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing in the universe. And you--you embody like every fucking thing I'm supposed to hate with your money and your athletic ability, and your whole goddamn clean-cut All-American boy next door bullshit. And I--I keep ending up here when everything in me says to run away, that this--you--are too good to be fucking true."

And Steve, he's pinching the bridge of his nose, looking more than anything like he's trying not to burst into tears and this--this cannot be borne.

"I love you so fucking much." His voice cracks and he reaches out to circle his fingers around Steve's wrist, the one holding the towel. "I love you so much and I don't deserve even a second of it. Not a minute. Because you're Steve Harrington, you're--"

Steve presses his hand (he hates the the wide palms and long fingers, how they're perfect, how they hold him and comfort him and wring out pleasure again and again like it's nothing, like Steve's hands were made for making Eddie come) over Eddie's mouth. "Shut-up, Munson," he says.

"I fucking hate you too." There's ease in the way he says it, a lightness in his eyes. "I hate that you don't use conditioner. I hate that your van makes that turkey gobble sound every time you turn a corner, and you refuse to let me look at it. I hate how loud you play your music, how it makes my fucking skin shake. I hate when you forget to take the damn chains off your jeans when you put them in the wash."

Steve climbs into bed, straddling him, towel long forgotten. "You know what else I fucking hate, Eddie?" He leans down, ghosting his lips against the tip of Eddie's nose, skimming his mouth. "I hate that I've never loved anyone like I love you. I hate that I almost fucking lost you. I hate that we can't spend every minute in this goddamn bed, so I can memorize every inch of your skin, every sound you make, every single way I tear you apart, and all of the things that put you back together. I love you, Ed. Every fucking terrible part."

[astraystayyh]

chan x reader. hurt and lots of comfort. description of an anxiety attack and its aftermath (based on my own experiences).

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

If you remain still long enough, breathe as quietly as you can muster, would the world forget you exist and pass your anxiety along to somebody else?

A selfish question, perhaps, but one that you can’t help but ask as you sit on your freezing bathroom floor, knees tightly hugged to your chest.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve sat in this position. Time suddenly seemed elusive to you, as if a concept too hard for your frantic heart to grasp. All you knew was the ache of your limbs and the feeling that doom was just around the corner.

It was one of those days where you woke up feeling anxious. As if your brain had made up its mind about you in your sleep, deciding to hold you hostage to your anxiety. The bed was cold, your boyfriend Chan long gone to his studio, his lingering cologne the only indication he was ever there. So, you tried to distract yourself throughout the day— going on a walk, listening to music, cleaning your house, but it didn't help. Nothing seemed to help you.

So here you were, hours later, sat on your bathroom floor, trying to calm yourself down, all alone. But you could tell that it wasn't working, that you were on a losing race against your own body. Soon, you wouldn't be able to control your anxiety, soon it would turn into a full blown attack.

You wanted to call Chan, you truly did, but he was busy, and you refused to be a burden. Especially since he told you through texts that he'd be home late, so that definitely meant that he was making a new track in his studio.

So, you settled on rocking yourself back and forth, your hands slowly moving up to your shoulders, patting yourself down. This is what you used to do before knowing Chan. When you didn't have anyone around you who understood. You’d trick your bruised mind into believing you were hugged, the warmth of your own touch easing your anxiety a little.

But tonight it had the opposite effect. Tonight, you broke down in sobs, your breathing more irregular than ever. You curled into a ball on the floor, your hand moving to your chest in a futile attempt to slow down your heart. You could no longer breathe, the air in your lungs morphing into unkind fingers, choking you from within. White dots started dancing in front of your eyes, as your entire being shook like a lone leaf, left to fend for itself before the unyielding winds.

It suddenly got too much— the sobs, the pain, the ache. You couldn't bare it anymore. So with trembling hands, you unlocked your phone, calling the only person who would be able to calm you down. Chan. You put the phone on speaker, before tossing it on the ground next to you. You couldn't even muster the energy to hold it to your ear.

“Hi my love, I'm a bit busy right now can I call you later?” Chan's rushed words ring through the bathroom, your anxiety intensifying before the possible antidote. “Honey?” he asks again when he doesn’t hear your reply.

“Chan—“ you sob, the only word your weighted tongue allows you to speak of.

“I’m here, I'm here baby. I'm coming right now,” his panicked voice rings through your ears, following the frantic rush of your boiling blood. The sound of shuffling indicates that he’s getting up and leaving the studio, the confused ‘what’s going on?’ Han shouts confirms it.

The only reply you give him is your sobs, and his heart constricts, twists and turns at the sound of your cries. “Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe for me, okay? Take a deep breath with me, please—” his voice breaks, “please baby.”

You try, with all your will, to force a steady breath to rise from your stomach to the tip of your tongue. It escapes faintly, but Chan catches it. “You’re doing well, baby. Fuck—” he turns on his car’s engine. “Um… Minho bit my ass today.”

His words catch you off guard, the gears in your mind stopping for a split second. You remember a faint conversation under your covers, months ago, when you told him that distractions help you when you’re anxious. Force you to redirect your thinking somewhere else.

He remembered.

“Was it tasty?” you breathe out, and he chuckles, a sweet sound intermingled with a sigh of relief. “I don’t know, I need to ask him baby.”

You nod though he can’t see you, willing yourself to breathe again. In, out, in, out, Chan’s own breathing guiding you. “Should I bite him in return?” he asks. Tears pool in your eyes once again. “I’m close, so close,” he reassures.

“Okay.”

“To the biting?”

“Mm,” you manage to hum, as you hear the door of your apartment open, Chan's hurried steps echoing in your home. You knew he was looking for you but you couldn't call out to him. After painfully long seconds, stretching out as if to torture you even more, he finally opens the bathroom floor.

He finally finds you.

“It's okay, I'm here. I'm here,” he wastes no time before scooping you into his arms and hugging you. He knows that the pressure eases your anxiety so he tightens his hold without you having to say so, pulling you as close as two pages of the same book.

With you on his lap, he starts rocking back and forth, his words coming out a jumble mess. He can’t settle on what to say to you, switching between stupid jokes his friends told him, and words of reassurance he repeats like a promise.

His words break, his tongue faltering each time your sob gets louder, but he speaks. He speaks and speaks for twenty minutes, all to distract you, all to keep you grounded, and safe.

After a long while, the storm finally passes, leaving behind an excruciating exhaustion. You turn into a puddle in his hold, softening like malleable clay. He holds you as gently as a porcelain vase.

His warm palms settle atop your cheeks, his eyes gazing into yours for the first time since he got here. A sheen glaze taints them, one you know is mirrored in your own. His thumbs gently swipe away your remaining tears, grazing your face with a tenderness that makes your being ache. Your lips press a faint kiss onto his palm, his find their way to your forehead, and you feel it all, through his kiss. His fear, his relief, his love, soft and gentle, for you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse as you kiss his forehead back.

“I’ve got you my love. Always,” he smiles at you softly, his dimples appearing like the sun after a cold day.

“Did Minho really bite you?” you giggle faintly, and he scratches his ear sheepishly. “No, but I don’t put it past him to do it.”

“Is that something you’re into?” You cock a teasing eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. “Only if it’s you,” he says as he wraps his arm around your waist, picking you up swiftly.

“I’ll consider,” you yawn, wrapping your arms around his neck, your face finding a refuge in the crook of his neck.

“Why thank you,” he smiles as he leads you to your bedroom, settling you gently atop the bed. He quickly climbs in with you, bringing you so close to him, his warmth ends up spreading through your entire being, filling up every nook and cranny of your soul.

“I think as long as you’re near, I’ll always be okay,” you say, as your eyes close slowly, you miss the tender smile that blooms in his face at your words.

“Good thing I exist to be near you, then.”

please consider donating for gaza through my kofi. we have exceeded 1k dollars and our goal is 1500! a little goes a long way, you can donate as much as you can! thank you

[cherpiet]

comfort

[fumifooms]

Homegrown

Thistle and Delgal - Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui

^ Fernando Pessoa / Killing Flies, Michael Dickman / A Brother Named Gethsemane, Natalie Diaz / Antigonick, Anne Carson v Oats We Sow, Gregory and the Hawk

[sableeira]

I love how this was just a little theater performance for soukoku. Dazai’s dramatic acting once he “realized” Chuuya was there. Chuuya’s vampire noises. Dazai’s overdramatic speech about memories… the long pause before the cheerfully fake goodbye. Dazai’s annoyed look when Fyodor was talking shit about his and chuuya’s bond (he probably felt so smug on the inside). Dazai’s other speech about the power of friendship and their fate that was completely unnecessary because he knew that Chuuya wasn’t actually possessed. Chuuya fake shooting Dazai in the head, which they have extensively trained for in the past. Their commitment to the bit is everything

[zuzu-draws]

[The Cursed, Unwanted Child: Ostracised by the Village]

[randomnerd737]

I was thinking about the 5 year anniversary video and

it is interesting to me how Patton kind of decided for Logan what his role in the "family" would be. all the other sides chose it themselves, but he didn't get to.

even when he actively objects it's played for laughs and never addressed. this happened too when Patton revealed his name for him, and I just think it's interesting to note that after all these years, Logan still never gets to decide anything when it comes to Thomas, or even himself, to an extent. it's just kind of decided for him and he is expected to just go along with it, similar to how it was when Thomas dyed his hair.

ik it's mainly a "haha wine mom" moment, but that doesn't take away from how angsty it gets when you think about it.