#q's stuff

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

Okay, so like (yes, it's time for another little vent). There is this creative writing contest that my university hosts every year, and I really want to participate in it. The only thing is, the kinds of creative writing I do feels so personal. Like, it's one thing to be posting my writing here, and on AO3, while projecting it onto these fictional characters, but it's another thing entirely to be inserting oc's into the story, and that being linked to my actual name. It feels way way way too personal. But also, what if I could actually win the contest??? Like, I don't even care about the prize, I love writing and would love to see something I've written be published, but also, that seems so intimate??

[manga-and-stuff]

Source: Dai Dark 大ダーク

by Q Hayashida

[doublxpresso]

Devoted to you

[last-starry-sky]

Had a dream last night of alpha!141 discovering omega!reader through her small “daily life” youtube channel.

Just the thought of four massive men pressed together, jostling one another to watch you on one phone screen (held in a fucking death grip) as you film yourself setting up your nest or making a smoothie.

[thatsbelievable]

[gomzdrawfr]

OT on Christmas Eve

requested by my supporter: maybe Laswell having a snow globe of the 141? Like she's chilling in her office with a mug of hot chocolate and on the table we see a massive snow globe of the goobers

[ama-a93]

chibi practice :]

[ohvun]

D E V I L C H I L D >:D

I just think it'd be cool if her demonia fleur was a lil more grotesque yk?

Got super inspired seeing this post by rly cool @wigglesdtuff about a year ago and finally finished it!!:D

I ended up using a picture of a figurine to get the wings to work better bc I was s t r u g g e l i n g ;-;

[kankuroplease]

He’s so buggable 🫂

[madaqueue]

gn!reader - 18+ MDNI (jjk spoilers !!!! also just....angst. lots of angst)

you never hated the rain. satoru made sure of that.

“it’s a way to prove things are alive!” he’d beam, gaze fixed on the window as it slowly collected droplets, tracing their path down the glass. he smiled when they’d meet, rivulets diving down and onto the concrete below to join one another. as if they, too, were alive.

maybe that’s why you’d find him standing outside during storms, hair matted and clothes drenched. soaked in proof.

it’s almost fitting that it’s raining today.

almost.

the rain sounds hollow as it litters the ground. the dirt. the empty casket. for someone so loud, who filled every space with his soul and energy and mind, you would have expected more. but then again, not even the sun exploding and burning and wiping everything away until the only noise echoing through the universe is a chant of his name would be enough to capture him. to honor him.

instead, today, there’s no sound anywhere.

you want to scream, to pull out the grass and slam your fists onto the wood just to make something happen.

but it won’t make him come back.

it won’t make his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his warmth. it won’t make his lips press kisses over every inch of your skin like a promise. it won’t make those bright blue eyes linger a moment too long on yours. not ever again.

and then you’re on your knees. you’re screaming and your chest hurts and the rain tastes saltier than you remember and you feel like you’re drowning in it.

maybe then you’ll at least get to see him again.

“hey, it’s okay,” a warm voice pulls you back to the surface for a moment. but the hand rubbing your back is too small. it’s not him. “let it out,” shoko hums behind you, holding an umbrella above your shaking form.

you feel weak, like a strong enough gust of wind could blow you over. you wish it would. you wish it would throw you into the hole in the ground and cover you in wet soil and mud. even dirty, satoru would love you.

you wonder if he’d find this pathetic. he was never one for dramatic displays, especially for his sake. but then again, he never looked down on you for how violently the waves of your emotions seemed to throw you around, crashing into rocks and tumbling underwater. no, he would just rub your back and kiss your tears away. “it’s okay,” he’d whisper, “i’m here.”

but now he’s not here.

and he’ll never be here again.

and you can’t bring him back and you can’t hear his voice or his laugh or the soft little breaths as he fell asleep in your arms and you can’t say “i love you” ever again. because you won’t. you won’t ever feel what you felt for him again.

your heart is buried in the ground and no amount of digging will bring it back.

but then, more arms wrap around you. they still aren’t satoru’s, but they’re warm. in spite of the rain.

“we miss him, too,” yuji whispers. the others don’t say anything - they don’t have to, they can’t. what more is there to say?

but then, as they hug you, and you hug them, the grief gets a little lighter, just for a moment. because you’re all carrying it together. his students, his future, will hold him in their memories and bring him with them.

your head falls back, and raindrops land on your cheeks. the same places satoru’s lips used to be.

the sky matches his eyes.

maybe you can find him in the rain.

a/n: sorry :/

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

there's this writing competition that is held by my university and we can submit either: a short story, an extract, a poem, or a collection of poems. i really wanna submit something but i've been so busy with campus work that i haven't written anything unrelated to campus in months

[manga-and-stuff]

Source: Dorohedoro Sketchbook Artbook

by Q Hayashida

Link to the full Artbook

[overstimulated-autism-creature]

Placebo Meme

[vanitasaurus]

gronch

[floweypilled]

more of this nonsense

[staracket]

come on alex you can do it!!!