#sorry this is ridiculous

[terrible-boy]

how strange it is to be anything at all //

ao3 // unhinged kunikida/dazai stuffing kink angst freakout

"This was different. This was intimacy. As Kunikida dropped mint tea bags into each of the only two mugs Dazai appeared to own, Dazai was loosening the bandages around his ribcage and sighing with relief. He was unbuttoning his trousers and changing into a pair of lightweight sweatpants. He was collapsing onto his futon and rubbing his bloated belly without a hint of reticence. 

This was not Kunikida’s to witness, but Dazai had repeatedly invited him in."

Dazai calls Kunikida after a deeply unserious attempt. Kunikida doesn't know what to do with any of this.

[vita940124]

Imagine that I’m the barber, and seeing an engine with a face suddenly rush into my barber shop, I will probably have a psychological shadow for the rest of my life☠️

[green-fifteen]

Day 6: Stretch

 Fandom: Supernatural

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Word count: 2,988

written for @fluffyfebruary

read on ao3 instead

Dean’s boyfriend is an angel. Probably lots of people say that, but when Dean says it, it’s actually true.

Castiel is the whole package: wings, good looks, asshole parents, you name it. Dean asked him if he kept a halo lying around and he’d just never seen it, but Cas told him that those 14th century paintings were rotting his brain. Well, he didn’t say it like that, but that was the gist. He even has a special, terrible, otherworldy form that he won’t show to Dean. 

“I do not want your brain to leak from your eyes,” he’d said, but Dean thinks he’ll wear him down eventually. 

Despite being an actual angel, Castiel is getting the hang of living with humans pretty well. Dean worked very hard to socialize him and teach him all the right vocabulary. There are still hiccups, but they’re working on those as they come up.

Like, the other week Cas had gone with Dean to buy groceries. While he was in another section, Cas had found the free samples. Dean arrived in time to see the kosher sausage saleswoman begin to sob. Dean rushed to comfort her while Cas chewed a frank with scientific interest. What did you say to her? he questioned in the car. Cas looked impatient. I told her the sausage was not actually kosher. And that her mother won’t kick her out for dating the girl at the cheese counter. I was being kind, Dean. Dean had given him a dubious look and lectured him about boundaries until they got home. 

Anyway, even accounting for the occasional misstep, Cas is doing much better in human society than he had been four years ago. Sure, people can usually tell he’s an angel just by looking at him, but it’s not like that’s a secret. In fact, Dean practically writes it on his forehead in the mirror every morning, he mentions it so much. I CAN KISS AN ANGEL WHENEVER I WANT!

And it’s not that Dean is smug about locking down a divine creature of unknowable power (although he is), he just thinks Cas shouldn’t have to hide in his own town. He’s aware that some angels do hide, when they live among humans. Cas’s brother Michael moved to Tulsa and wears straps to keep his wings down inside his power suits. He says it’s only until he can find a job, but Dean doesn’t want that for Cas. Not ever. 

Even before he really knew Cas, he was fascinated by his angelic nature. The first time he saw him, they’d both been sixteen. Dean was coming home with Sam, who was in the same school as him for once and taking the same bus. He was taller than him at only twelve years old. (Yeah, his brother was a genius who skipped grades. Dean was sick with pride but pretended to make a fuss about his kid brother harshing his game with the high school chicks. Sam just rolled his eyes and told him to stop blustering. ???)

A boy with gigantic wings had been standing in the driveway of the house next to theirs, helping the adults move boxes from an oversized U-Haul. His back had been turned to them, so he hadn’t noticed either of them slowly walking up the path to their front door. Dean and Sam both were staring openly, forgetting themselves in their surprise at seeing some kind of bird-boy in a weird linen shift.

It was Sam who gasped softly and said, “Dean, I think he’s an angel,” which is why he’s the genius. The angel kid had turned around and seen them then, but he didn’t react except to stare, creepily. His parents noticed him looking and made some hand gestures and then the boy sighed and walked over. They were frozen on the paving stones, watching him approach. 

“Mother and Chuck said to introduce myself. I’m called Castiel, in your tongue.” 

Just as he finished speaking, the door to their house opened and their father called, “Hey, Stretch, get the good rune-chalk from the cellar, would you? We’re re-doing the basement tonight.” 

Sam stomped off rudely, obedient and irritated. Dean didn’t have the talent for wards like his brother did, which was just as well in his book because he didn’t have to do stupid shit like play twister with chalk lines in the cold-as-hell basement. 

Dean and Castiel watched as he rounded the house, then focused on each other once more. They made eye contact and Dean wanted to smile at the serious expression on his face, but he didn’t. 

“I’m Dean,” he said and reached out a hand. It hovered lamely in the air when Castiel didn’t take it. He pulled it back and wiped his palm on his jeans. 

“So, you guys just move to town?” he asked, awkwardly.

Castiel glanced back at the U-Haul. “Yes.” His tone said obviously. 

“Uh, how do you like it?” 

“We arrived 40 minutes ago.” 

Dean was beginning to wish he was better at drawing runes. He made a few more lame attempts at small talk, hoping Castiel would remember he was supposed to be helping his parents with the truck full of boxes and let Dean escape inside. He didn’t, just answered Dean’s inane questions with bone-dry syllables and never stopped looking directly in his eyes. 

“Listen,” Dean said eventually. “I’ve got homework to do and dinner and stuff.” And to be polite, he said, “Maybe you could come over for dinner? Anytime you want to, you guys are welcome.”

He cringed at himself. His dad would probably not like hosting the neighbors for dinner and honestly, Dean didn’t even know these people. What if he’d just sentenced his family to an entire night of conversations as awkward as this one?

The angel had accepted the invitation with disproportionate gravity (I thank you for opening your home to us, Dean) and they’d parted. The next night, he showed up at the Winchester’s front door at 5 o’clock, alone. 

“Is this too early?” he asked, peering around Dean into the house. 

Dean shook his head mutely, gave him a polite smile, and waved him inside. When he stepped in, Dean’s dad looked up at them, gave Castiel a quick once-over, then quirked an eyebrow at Dean.

“This is Castiel,” he explained quickly. “His family moved in yesterday, next door. I invited him over for dinner.”

John looked like he wanted to laugh. “How neighborly, son,” he said. Dean flushed and escaped to the kitchen, dragging Castiel behind him. 

The big white wings were tucked modestly against his body and Dean was distantly grateful, considering all the glass jars and framed pictures they had in the kitchen. He made himself busy with setting the table, ignoring the persistent awkwardness Castiel summoned in him.

“You can get the cups down from that cabinet,” he said, pointing. He followed each of Dean’s instructions until the table was ready, heaped with enough spaghetti and meatballs to feed a small Italian town (as long as they weren’t that particular about eating sauce from a jar.)

Sam crashed into his chair when Dean hollered and their dad came leisurely to the kitchen a minute later. Sam gave Castiel a toothy smile.

The angel seemed perturbed when they started eating.

“You won’t say grace?” he asked.

Dean felt caught. He looked at his dad, who glowered slightly.

“Not anymore,” he said curtly. Castiel just looked thoughtful.

The humans ate quietly, focused on their plates. Castiel was eating slowly, watching the others and copying their behavior. He saw Sam mop the edge of his plate with a piece of buttered bread.

“Stretch,” he said, politely. “Please pass me the bread.”

There was a confused silence before Sam hesitantly passed him the bag of Wonder Bread.

“You meant me, right?” he asked, muffled through a full mouth of food.

Castiel just said, “Yes. Thank you, Stretch.”

Dean stared at him for a second and then lost it. His laugh started strangled as he tried to keep it in, but he really couldn’t stop himself. He had to put his fork down on his plate.

That night had been Cas’s first lesson in humanity. Sam had formally introduced himself (Dad just calls me that because I’m tall, he explained, red-faced) and Dean eventually stopped laughing long enough to finish his dinner. When the food was gone, he pulled Cas out of the kitchen, saying Dad and Sam’ll clean up, I cooked and you’re a guest.

Cas asked him what he liked to do for fun. Grinning, Dean took him to his bedroom and climbed out the window. When they were both on the roof, sitting silently and listening to the soft noises from the town and the woods behind the neighborhood, Dean realized Cas was surprisingly easy to talk to.

And that had only been the beginning. After that night, Cas was at their house all the time, listening to Dean talk with the focused attention of a congregant. Dean  took the responsibility of educating him very seriously and taught him the funniest swears first. He had a lot of fun with that until Cas absently called Dean’s (admittedly crotchety) grandma a ‘shithead’ where she could hear him. He’d had a hell of a time explaining himself while simultaneously guarding Cas from rapid elderly thwacks.

Dean doesn’t spend as much time at Cas’s house, which is how they both like it. Cas’s parents make John Winchester look like a stoner hippie Kindergarten teacher. They’re really strict, is the point. And startlingly conservative, for a pair of people who were pooh pooh’d out of their angel community because Cas’s mom had a second marriage. Needless to say, they aren’t terribly warm toward Dean. They’ve never been rude to his face, he doesn’t think. But their lack of approval is clear. 

Even before the first time Cas had kissed him, they sometimes made excuses why he couldn’t see Dean and, around Dean’s seventeenth birthday, took him along on a business trip to Springfield, even though there’d been nothing for him to do there. Cas had missed his party and been angry with them for weeks. Dean thinks Cas’s parents knew about them before they did, which is why they told Dean things like Castiel is studying for his exams, after he knew Cas’s homeschooling program was already finished for the summer. And Castiel needs to rest, he has.. the flu, on a clear August day. (Dean was pretty sure angels coldn’t get the flu, then Cas had barged past them out the door, looking very hale and pissed off.)

They did figure it out eventually, though. It started when were both newly eighteen and sitting on a blanket in the park, watching The Matrix Reloaded. Sam was in front of them, eyes glued to the side of the white plaster building where the movie was being projected. Dean had made dumb jokes all throughout the first movie, much to Sam and Cas’s irritation. He was distracted as the second movie played, looking at the side of Cas’s face. Cas was just so focused and interested.

On screen, Persephone was bargaining with Neo. You have to make me believe it’s her, she was saying. Neo kissed her briefly and she pulled away. Terrible. Forget it. 

When the movie ended, they took a break to stretch their legs and walk around a curving path opposite the building. Sam stayed behind, happily snacking and waiting for the third movie in the marathon to start. 

“What did you think?” Dean had asked, kicking rocks in front of his feet. 

Cas made an assessing noise. “There is... a lot going on in these films,” he eventually said, voice as starched and diplomatic as Dean had ever heard it. Dean laughed, punching him on the arm. 

“You must have liked some of it,” he insisted playfully. 

Cas was quiet for a long moment, walking next to him and looking at the ground. He spoke as they reached a bend in the path. “I was curious about one scene,” he said slowly. “The character-- what was his name, the important one?”

“Neo.”

“Neo was trying to convince that woman to show them to the Key-person. And he had to kiss her.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Her husband was cheating on her and she wanted to hurt Trinity’s feelings, I’m pretty sure.” He hadn’t been paying that much attention, but Sam had made him watch these movies eleven million times before tonight. 

“He had to kiss her well. She could tell when he did it wrong.” Cas stopped walking and turned to Dean. “Is there a way to kiss wrong?” His eyes were a little panicked, like he hadn’t even thought about kissing anyone before but now he had to worry about doing it incorrectly. 

Dean smirked. “I’m pretty sure there is, yeah.” He made a showy gesture to his own face. “Not that I’ve had any complaints.”

Cas looked unimpressed. “I believe you have to have customers first, to recieve complaints.”

Dean had flushed and spluttered, “I’ve kissed people, dude! Last summer, I kissed Alexis Ford at her birthday party! With tongue!

“Alexis lost a bet,” Cas said, cruelly recontextualizing the one and only kiss of Dean’s young life. Dean glowered and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“I bet you’d be a bad kisser,” he grumbled. He didn’t mean it. Actually, he’d thought about kissing Cas earlier that evening, during the first Matrix. And in the car on the way to the park. And the day before, when Cas greeted him on the lawn after work. And at least forty other times since they’d both graduated high school. None of those imagined kisses had been bad. They’d been pretty embarassing, though, which is why he slam-dunked them into the “do not talk about to anyone” drawer in his head. And then locked it. 

Cas looked offended. “What is your evidence? I’ve never kissed anyone. There’s no data.”

“I just know. It would be slimy and horrible, somehow.”

They were behind the building now, out of view of the picnic area. They were almost alone, except for a few people hurrying to the restrooms.

“You’re just being hurtful,” Cas said, sounding cross. “I think I could kiss well if I were able to practice. It has to be a skill, like anything else.”

He stopped walking, suddenly. Dean halted in place, looking over his shoulder at him. 

“I’ll kiss you,” he said, head tilted. He grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him. 

“Ack! Hey!” Dean protested. 

“You can tell me if it’s bad. If I need practice.” He had that look on his face then, the one he got when he was gung-ho to learn something about humans that only Dean could teach him. 

Dean swallowed, keeping his eyes on Cas’s resolutely. “Um, are you--” he swallowed again. “Are you sure?” The idea of pulling away from him had occured to Dean and he knew it was probably the better one, but instead he stayed right were Cas had put him, heart hammering. 

Cas nodded, then stood looking at him for a long moment. 

“Dean?”

“Uh, what?”

Cas rolled his eyes, huffed a little can he be this stupid? sigh and kissed Dean on the lips. 

A terrible, pleased noise escape Dean’s throat and his hands moved up without his input, catching and holding Cas’s shirtfront. When Cas pulled away, his eyes were wide. 

“That was--” he cleared the gravel from his voice. “That didn’t feel very bad.”

Dean had been zapped into goo and couldn’t speak. Cas touched his own lips with an awed expression and Dean wanted to kiss him again, so bad. He gathered himself enough to croak, “Beginner’s luck.” 

The angel’s eyes immediately flashed at the challenge and he reeled Dean in with a hand at his back. They made out behind the building until Sam came looking for them midway through The Matrix Revolutions. 

After that, it had been zero to sixty-- Dean was Cas’s boyfriend to everyone they met. Cas met him on his lunch break from the garage and kissed him in front of his dad. Dean dragged him out onto the roof to take his clothes off of him and dig his fingers into the clean white feathers of his wings. 

Now, Dean has been kissing Cas (and a little bit more than that) for two years. Cas checks Zillow every day and sends him houses he likes the look of. Dean has programmed ‘This is not in our budget’ into his texting app so he doesn’t have to type out all the words every time Cas sends him the listing for another million-dollar development property. 

Chrissake, Cas, you’re a guidance counselor and I fix cars. Think a little smaller, babe, he told him. Cas made a face and told him not to swear. 

Dean can see a future for them and he wants it more than anything. He keeps teaching Cas human things like replacing the goddamn toilet paper and how much detergent to use in the washing machine. He’s still weird in an obvious way, and Dean still doesn’t want to change that. He thinks they’ll be sitting on their front porch, Dean old and gray, Cas looking however the hell he’ll look in sixty years (Dean should ask him, actaully), and Cas will still make remarks like Dean, these adult diapers do not wick nearly as much moisture as the packaging claims. He thinks he’ll still smile at him, every time. He’ll still feel the same way he did when Cas made him laugh for the first time at the dinner table. He’ll want to keep him. Forever. 

When he looks at Cas, wide eyed like a newborn and holding Dean’s hand in the supermarket, at the park, in line at the DMV-- forever doesn’t feel like much of a stretch. 

[littlemizzlinguistics]

Studying linguistics is actually so wonderful because when you explain youth slang to older professors, instead of complaining about how "your generation can't speak right/ you're butchering the language" they light up and go “really? That’s so wonderful! What an innovative construction! Isn't language wonderful?"

[jinaxxo]

the dunmeshi party if i were to be the lord of the dungeon.. just a glimpse into my dark reality..

[lungthief]

listen. i know it's not 2014 anymore and i know it's just a throwaway line and that the russo brothers didnt intend for marvel action blockbuster captain america the winter soldier to become the tragic gay love story that never was but man. having steve say "it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience" in a conversation about romantic relationships right before the bucky reveal is so cruel. it's not just about steve and bucky obviously having the shared experience of being "out of time," it's the fact that they've both been stripped of their humanity in opposite directions. steve is a legend, he is an american hero and a national icon before he is a human being the same way that bucky is a weapon and a killing machine before he is a human being. steve knows that anyone who falls in love with him in the 21st century fell in love with captain america first, and that's just not him. but then the one person who knew him first and knew him best and loved him (not captain america, that little guy from brooklyn) so much he died for it is alive, impossibly. and it's a miracle because he's back and it's horrific because he's back under the worst possible circumstances. but to steve, the winter soldier is worth tearing the world apart for because he's always been bucky first. they find each other and suddenly they're human again. and maybe, despite it all, being "out of time" becomes a blessing, because in this century they'd finally be allowed to love each other the way they've always wanted to. like real people do.

like. no. the captain america trilogy isn't about two queer men traumatized and alienated by war and modern life rediscovering and reclaiming their humanity through their love for each other. but. i mean. it couldve been

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Friendly reminder to everyone to always fact check your work. Even when it seems like it's right.

Case in point: I'm making a short little post about Gambian pouched rats(!). Funnily enough, they're named not for pouches in which they carry their young, but for their cheek pouches. Apparently most other rats don't have cheek pouches like hamsters and gerbils do. Neat.

Anyway, some of the literature I was reading said that Gambian pouched rats can carry a lot of food in their mouths. Makes sense-- they're big rats. But how much food exactly? I started looking. More sources agreed that, yeah, Gambian pouched rats can carry a lot of food! Maybe even up to 3kg over the course of 2 hours! That seems like a lot, especially considering Gambian pouched rats only weigh 1.0-1.5 kg. So I do a little more digging. Every source agrees that they can carry a lot, and they all cite that very specific number of 3kg over 2 hours.

Finally, I track down an actual paper about Gambian pouched rat cheek morphology (yes I went down a wormhole. This is my HBomberGuy moment.) The paper cites 2 sources for that 3 kg/2 hr number! Great! I find those two papers, and read them. And.

Neither paper says that. In fact, they don't really talk about Gambian pouched rat feeding habits at all. One is just an observation on natural behaviors, with a brief section on their diet but no information on how much they carry. The second paper-- written by the same guy-- was about how Gambian pouched rat behaviour changes in captivity. There was a good-sized section on cannibalism, but nothing on transporting food. So that first paper, the one that cited those other two for that 3 kg/2 hr figure, just straight up lied.

Moral of the story: always do your homework kids, especially when it sounds too good to be true. Also, Gambian pouched rats can probably carry quite a lot of food in their mouths, but whether they really can carry up to 3 kg worth of food in 2 hours remains to be seen.

[wigglebox]

Destiel Pride - Day 11; Truth

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

I drew not all but the majority of characters that i like in a rainbow because the addition of kasper finally made a pretty smooth gradient

Heres some close ups

I should have really added a xenomorph in there but you guys do not understand how long this took me. Just pretend a queen xenomorph is in there at the end 🙏🙏 and also 3 different pictures of ryan gosling 🙏🙏🙏🤑

If you want to know anything about me study all of these characters (emphasis on isaac clarke)

[solarmorrigan]

Steve can do the cherry stem trick, because of course he can. Of course he can

He spent a stupid amount of time when he was younger trying to learn how to do it; ate a ridiculous number of cherries and just sort of started sticking them stem and all into his mouth, eating the cherry, and then working on the stem. He has 100% forgotten it's not just a thing people do, so now that’s just kind of how he eats them - puts the whole thing in his mouth, eats the cherry, and ties a knot in the stem the same way someone might fiddle with a twist tie

The first time Eddie sees him do this, he sees Steve stick the fruit in his mouth without removing the stem and just start chewing and it's like

Eddie: Did you just eat the... Steve, absently pulling a knotted cherry stem out of his mouth: Sorry, what? Eddie: Eddie: How are you even a real person

He spends the next three to five business days trying to get the thought out of his head. He’s absolutely disgusted with himself; it’s such a stereotypical flirting trick, it’s such a move, but for some reason it’s fucking working on him

(Robin has lowkey been waiting for Eddie to find out about this. She saw Steve do it multiple times with the maraschino cherries when they worked at Scoops and thought he was flirting with her at first before she realized he just... Does That. Like a weirdo.)

[petite-madame]

❤ It's for you ❤ - (2023)

It would be rude to refuse...

[tragicvampireromanceisland]

anyone else remember this weird little show that toon disney used to air back in the nineties?? inside out focused on the lives of the emotions inside the mind of thirteen-year-old riley andersen, as they worked together to guide her through each day. while essentially just being a workplace comedy, the show quickly garnered praise from critics and fans alike for its unique premise, strong and relatable characters, and positive messaging on emotional regulation for its young audience.

at first, it looked like the show was going to become a staple saturday morning cartoon. season 2 even added four new emotions to the original cast of five! unfortunately, it seemed like disney had other plans. clocking in at 52 episodes, inside out only managed to reach around half of the golden standard of 100 episodes for rerun syndication before it abruptly got cancelled. the reason why has been the subject of speculation in hundreds of online forum threads over the past thirty or so years. but who knows! if we drum up some more conversation about it, maybe we can get a reboot!!

[exploringopensky]

was reading Sherlock holmes and this popped into my head

[ladyhawke]

girlhood is a spectrum

[the-kipsabian]

saw a take so fucking rancid on twitter i almost deleted the entire app from my phone jesus fucking christ

first of all ao3 is an archive site. this is like going to the library and saying "oh i dont like this" on every piece of media you find that you dislike and thinking they should be stamped with some sort of a marker just cause you didnt like it

you can always click back and leave. fic writers owe you nothing to explain themselves and their creations. if they have mistagged or miscategorized fics, then i understand, however there are report tools for that instead of yelling at the artist tbh

im not saying free works arent necessarily above criticism. but this is just. fucking wild. its common courtesy to just enjoy stuff (or fucking leave if you dont, the back button is free) and if the artist specifically asks for critiques, then give one - constructive that is, shitting all over someones work is not proper criticism, mind you

i just find it fucking wild people are treating art and archive sites as social media these days like this and everything needs to be policed and ~catered to the algorithm~ like. no. ao3 doesnt have an algorithm. you should be able to fucking tell what you like and what you dont like and steer away from that kind of content and let people fucking be with their art. they dont owe you anything (except trigger warnings i'd argue, but i know some people disagree with that as well for some reason), and imagine how much more energy you'd have if you only engaged with things you liked and spent time looking at instead of going to places where you dont enjoy yourself. let alone spending time telling other people you dont enjoy what they enjoy. what a fucking life

[rooolt]

it’s so funny because the whole season was spent with like adaine oisin flirting, Fabian ivy flirting, fig creating a woman for Ruben to fall in love with, hell, even people shipping kipperlilly and Kristen and me specifically making jokes about kipperlilly having a crush on riz, and yet the bad kid x rat grinder ship that was canonized was better than I could have ever imagined