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ambrosiagourmet · 3 months

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Has anyone requested Marcille for the ask meme? If not then pls

Marcille!!!!!!!!!

First impression

Gay? Interesting elf girl with a really good design for a female character oh my god thank you. She gets to wear pants!!! It's a miracle!

Impression now

BELOVED HALF-ELF OF MY HEART... most determined member of the party, maybe second only to Laios. Not that it's a competition.

Girl who carries the weight of her existence in her heart everywhere she goes. Girl who doesn't know how to just exist because that would mean surrendering to the things time will take away from her. Girl with bloody knuckles who clings too tightly to the things she loves because she remembers a time when she didn't realize what they meant to her.

Girl who must shape a life too big to hold all at once. Who stares into that impossible task so unflinchingly that you kind of want to tell her to run away from it for a bit. Be a bit more of a coward, Marcille! But she doesn't have time to be a coward!! She's hurtling towards her goals at terminal velocity. But the same love that keeps her tumbling forward also pulls her back from the brink. Because she's still figuring out the balance.

Favorite moment

Rabbit chapter... my god rabbit chapter.........

Genuinely maybe my favorite chapter in the whole manga. It hits such an incredible peak of humor and raw emotion and impossibly ridiculous situations and grounded believable character writing. And no part of it is separate from the others.

What a fucking chapter. And what a fucking thesis for why Marcille is such a good character. Her being ridiculous and her being incredibly determined and her being powerful and her being scared are ALL part of her. Man. Marcille. She will do anything to pull through for her friends.

And then on top of it the way the Lion takes advantage of this moment to pull her strings. Which is just. So horrifying to watch because you want someone to give her a hug but all the people who would give her a hug are currently DEAD and she's left in a room along and exhausted with a manipulative, abusive, hungry opportunist. God. God. I love Rabbit Part II So Very Much.

Idea for a story

Umm hi sorry I am still busy thinking about Rabbit Part II. Please enjoy some shameless self promotion while I go lie down for a bit.

Unpopular opinion

She's bisexual!!!!! Normally I don't hold so fast to like "well canonically this character was into A Man so she can't be a lesbian blah blah blah" but it does bum me out that people ignore her succubus because I really do think that bi Marcille deserves more love. It doesn't make her any less into women sheesh.

Favorite relationship

Sorry I was thinking about Rabbit Part II again what was the question? Favorite relationship?

Yeah I dunno maybe Marcille and Laios? I kinda like the part where they rely on each other because there is no other way through and share an unnamed intimacy born in blood and bone and the way that they place impossible burdens on each other and owe each other their lives many times over and neither holds it against the other or asks for the repayment of debts that can never be repaid, choosing instead to keep walking into the future by each others sides because what else can you do. What else can you do.

They are pretty cool I guess. I'm normal about them though. Haha.

Favorite headcanon

I imagine that castle staff help Marcille with her hair on a day-to-day basis because leaving it just to personal friends and family would probably be impractical. But also I think Chilchuck, Laios, Falin, and also especially KABRU all learn enough to help her with it. I think that the first three learn some basic nice stuff but I think Kabru would get really into it.

That man could absolutely intensely hyperfixate on something like "nice hairstyles from another culture" for three to six months and come out the other side an expert.

#ask #ask meme #thank you for your patience!!!#and sorry it has taken me so long to get around to finishing these 😅#I love Marcille so very much

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mothwingwritings · 10 months

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can you do Oliva hc and smut pls, i read your valentine post about him and i'm just a smiling mess because of it

Waaaaaaaaaah TYSM darling!!! I love Biscuit!!! ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ ) Top tier man and one of my favorite Baki boys!!! I have a few fics in mind for him, but here’s just some cute little stuff in the meantime!

WARNINGS: Mentions of sexy stuff under the cut, so 18+ only, but the rest is pretty tame.

Biscuit was SUPER nervous to meet your family/friends for the first time. He holds you in such high regard that he was terrified of the impression he would make on your loved ones. He’s a nice, charming, wealthy gentleman-but none of that changes that fact that he’s a convict, and he was deeply concerned that those close to you would not accept him as your partner for that reason alone. He plans to be by your side till your dying day, so he wants the people most important to you to understand how strong his love is and realize he is not a threat, but a protective force.

I know this is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I really love the idea of a poly relationship with you, Biscuit, and Maria. If Maria is still in the picture, I imagine Biscuit has a very hard time staying away when it’s just the two of you hanging out. Though he’s happy neither of you are alone, he wants to be a part of what you are doing SO BAD it nearly drives him mad. The two of you could literally just be hanging out watching TV and he’ll be hitting up your phones nonstop asking what you guys are up to, talking about how much he wishes he were with you, sending pouty face selfies waxing poetic about how much he misses his beautiful loves. You and Maria definitely gang up to tease him, replying with suggestive texts or hinting at saucy interactions (even if literally nothing is going on) to rile him up. It’s all in good fun, but you do make sure to give him plenty of love and attention as soon as he comes back to you.

Even with how big he is, he loves being the little spoon. It doesn’t matter how much smaller than him you may be, he melts when you hold him in your arms. He’s not a religious man, but he can believe there is a heaven when he’s drowning in your embrace, because he’s found it in your hold. ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

Biscuit is not one to argue with you, and usually concedes to spats or disagreements with you pretty quickly. In the rare instances where he does need to put his foot down, he feels so guilty about it afterwards that he lavishes you with so much affection and so many treats that he ends up negating any stern punishment he had previously tried to impose upon you.

He gets really grumpy when other men flirt with you. He knows you are beautiful, charming, funny, and smart, so it’s only natural you will catch other people’s eye… but that doesn’t mean he has to like it or accept it. You are HIS and everyone needs to know and respect that. If he is around and sees someone eying you or chatting you up, he will get extremely handsy and overbearing to make said person back off. If they do not, there will be a problem. :)

On the flip side, if someone is rude or mean to you in any way he will outright beat their ass. They honestly may die. No one talks shit about his baby, and he’ll pummel their sorry ass until they realize just how bad they fucked up… And then beat them a little more, just for good measure. ₍꒢ ̣̮꒢₎

He loves going for long drives with you, especially when it’s on his motorcycle. There is nothing quite like tearing down the highway, wind whipping full speed, just you, him, and the open road ahead. He loves the feel of you r chest pressed flush against his broad back, loves it even more when he speeds up and you grip on even tighter. Sometimes he’ll even pull a surprise trick to get you to squeeze him even harder, but he’ll feel bad if he scares you too much. He always wants you to have just as much fun as he is.

He is definitely the kind of guy that always wants to be matching you, if not outright in the same outfit, then in corresponding fits. He will go out of his way to find out what you plan on wearing for the day, just so his outfit can complement yours. Even if you personally find that kind of thing embarrassing, he will make the saddest puppy eyes imaginable at you until you give in and dress up with him. He always takes pictures of your matching sets-they flood any social media he may have.

NSFW Headcanons under the cut!

He is EXTEMELY vocal in bed-You make him feel so fucking good that he just can’t help himself. Whether its moans, dirty talk, praise, screams of pleasure, he’s not shy about letting you know just how excited he is to be making love to you. He’s so loud other inmates can most definitely hear it, but no one has the balls to say anything to him about it (except for maybe one Jun Guevara who will give you massive shit about it should he ever happen upon you alone in the prison, laughing while doing so over what a pretty shade of red you are turning).

He has a huge praise kink, both giving and receiving. If you were to purr in his ear that he is a good boy he would probably cum right then and there, no further foreplay required. He loves showering you in compliments during the entirety of the love making, and he’ll dreamily relay to you how gorgeous you look stuffed with his cock, how pretty you sound whimpering in pleasure, how stunning you are in the afterglow. He’s so overcome with his attraction to you he could speak on it endlessly and still only scratch the surface of how you make him feel.

Whenever he has to travel, he’ll take mementos of you with him on his trip. Most of them are wholesome, but he always makes sure to bring one that no one else can know of. More often than not it’s a pair of used undergarments he pocketed, plucked off your body himself the last time you made love. He can’t have your body there with him in person, but he can at least have this small token with him to help him along when he’s feeling in the mood. He’d often call you to initiate a conversation, working himself up as the discussion grew increasingly raunchy, stroking himself against the soft silk of your panties until he spilled himself all over the delicate fabric. It wasn’t nearly as good as making love to you in person, but it would work in a pinch.

Biscuit loves to take his time with you in the bedroom, refusing to rush even if you are pressed for time. It’s maddening how slow he is, the languid ghosting of his hands over your body mixed with the leisurely kisses he plants over every inch of you is enough to drive you to the point of insanity. You beg for him to stop teasing you, pleading for him to pick up the pace and let you cum, but that only makes him go slower. It’s the only time he’s ever ‘mean’ to you, but he wants to drag your pleasure out as long as possible. He gets so lost in you that he wants the moment to drag on forever, and he’ll do all he can to elongate the process to try and make that a reality.

To Biscuit, you are royalty, and he will never treat you as anything but. Your pleasure always comes first to him, and he gets majorly embarrassed when he comes before you do. Poor guy, it’s just as torturous (if not more so) to be in his shoes when you two are fucking, and it takes all his strength to not be overtaken by the ardor he feels for you. Looking down on you as you are writhing in pleasure, your face contorted in lust, wantonly begging for his love… He deserves an award for how long he is able to hold back before he completely loses control.

#Biscuit just loves you so damn much IDK what else to even say #I hope you enjoyed and thank you for the ask!!!#baki scenarios #baki x y/n #baki x reader #biscuit oliva x reader #baki reader insert #baki the grappler x reader #baki the grappler #baki the grappler x y/n #biscuit olivia x y/n #biscuit olivia headcanons #answers #i am still getting through my inbox thank you all for your patience lol #mothwingswritings

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pocketgalaxies · 2 years

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C3E6 || C3E39 (requested by anonymous)

#critical role #criticalroleedit #imodna #laudna #laudna cr #imogen temult #gifs #*#*cr #*request #*parallel #cr3 #ship: imodna #1h22m c3e6 #35m c3e39 #thank you for your patience!! i hope this reads properly lmao #SHE IS JUST SO FULL OF LIFE AND BEAUTY AND SOFTNESS AND SHE DESERVES SO MUCH LOVE........#AND SHE GETS THAT WITH IMOGEN...SHE GETS WHAT SHE DESERVES.....LOVE........

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robobbin · 5 months

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Happy (slightly late) New Year's to @fic-and-art-for-ships!!

This is my gift for @utsecretsanta 2023, I love circus AUs and the Circus-swap AU is so cute! I adore Frisks design so much ♡ ～('▽^人)

#i really hope you like it!#also forgive me for the late arrival of your gift i had a huge incident with my shitty computer QWQ #but hey! I had as lot of fun redrawing it anyways haha! :D #my doodles #utss #utss 2023 #undertale secret santa #underswap #us sans #circuswap #frans #i adore frans when frisk is aged up to an appropriate age and this is just mwuah!#so adorable i mean just look at them QwQ <3 #their HAIR too augh i love it half up makes my brain go brrrr #this was genuinely so much fun thank you for your patience!!#underswap sans

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hachiibun · 1 year

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❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

I'm honoured to have collaborated with the incredible @onetrickponi to celebrate a certain gravity-manipulating shorty's birthday! This has been in the works for a while now, and we're both really excited to finally share this with everyone!

Without further ado, we'd like to present Vigil.

— ♠ —

“I’ve always wanted to die in a church.”

Beside him, Chuuya snorts. “I thought you wanted to die in the Ooka.”

Dazai wrinkles his nose. “Not since it became a tourist trap,” he replies. “That wouldn’t be a peaceful death at all.”

“The amount of thought you’ve put into this disturbs me,” says Chuuya, his own nose creasing. His, however, is due to a low seated, buzzing itch along the bridge of his sinuses that has been lingering since breakfast.

Chuuya won’t give it the satisfaction of culminating into a sneeze, however; instead choosing to quash the soft tingle into oblivion with the sheer force of his willpower alone. Anything else would be unacceptable.

(—as well as fucking candy to the idiot next to him, if Dazai ever gets wind of…whatever this is.)

Chuuya swallows against a spark of itch that ignites in his nose and grits his teeth. When he thinks he can speak steadily he points to the pews with a gloved hand. “Find the flash drive,” he orders. “We’ve got a window of thirty minutes at—the fuck are you looking at, shithead?”

Dazai cocks his head to the side, blinks, and answers with, “Just admiring your striking resemblance to a cherub in this light.” It’s smooth and practiced, like most of Dazai’s bullshittery.

“Why, you–” Chuuya cuts himself off and exhales slowly through his nose. He tries not to wince at the slight whistling sound it makes. With a sharp sniff he stalks off to the sanctuary and begins sifting through the drawers there. Dazai scurries off to the apse with an excited noise, muttering something about how angelic his corpse would look strung up along the mosaics.

Chuuya’s nose gives a foreboding quiver.

It isn’t like Dazai hasn’t ever heard him sneeze, or vice versa. They’ve been working together too long for that. They’ve seen each other express every bodily function possible to man (in addition to the ones that aren’t).

And Chuuya might have even been okay with his current predicament, had it not been for a quip Dazai made last week about Chuuya being a “weakling.” It had stung because Dazai, whose lack of self care is, frankly, appalling, can operate seemingly unbothered by even the most serious neglects of basic needs. Chuuya’s seen him run at peak wit on days of sleeping ninety minutes a night, seen his hair and skin glow on a diet of crab cakes and sake…while on the other hand Chuuya’s the one with the—

Don’t say it. As if ignoring the problem will make it go away. It hasn’t worked with Dazai, so Chuuya is a fool to think it will work with his increasingly sensitive airways.

Chuuya rifles through some bibles, sparing a glance or two at Dazai before deeming it okay to swallow a couple of sneezes and throat clears into his sleeve. He’s perfected the silent stifle over time, which is a feat in and of itself since Chuuya tends to sneeze harshly, loudly, and in multiples. Perhaps the intensity is Corruption at work, but regardless, Chuuya enjoys scaring the living daylights out of people. Usually.

The flash drive is proving to be elusive. The Port needs it, badly, if they have any chance of winning over the west side gangs of the Pier. Chuuya jams a gloved knuckle against the side of his nose as he hitches, squints, and glares at the church pews like they personally offend him.

“Oi, Chuuya,” Dazai whisper-calls from somewhere behind a cupboard. “I think someone’s coming. You find it?”

“No,” Chuuya snaps. The dust of old, flaky books is making his already irritated nose twitch. He shakes his head and the tickle abates. Cocking his head he realizes that Dazai is right; the sound of slow footfalls is getting closer to the vestibule. “Shit.”

Dazai scurries lightly over to where Chuuya is glowering at nothing in particular, and takes him by the arm. “There’s a little den area over there,” he nods to a veiled corner, “where we can stay hidden until whoever it is leaves,” he says.

“Or we can just come back in the morning,” replies Chuuya, snatching his arm away.

“Mori-sama will be disappoinnnteddd,” Dazai sing-songs. Dammit. He knows how to hit Chuuya where it hurts and they both know it.

Chuuya sighs. “Fine.” He stalks over to the den and crouches in the darkness with Dazai just as the cathedral doors swing open. The gibbous moon twinkles through the stained glass windows enough for the two of them to make out one of the western gang’s right hands.

Dazai crouches low and squints through the shadows. “Maybe he’ll show us where the drive is,” he whispers.

“Shut up, slug.”

Dazai holds up his bandaged hands in a familiar, placating gesture. They watch the guy glide down the stone nave, rummage around some boxes along the altar’s steps, sift through a stack of papers, and make himself comfortable on a nearby cushion.

Well, there goes Chuuya’s hopes of a night in. And now with Dazai sitting so close, he’s bound to find out Chuuya isn’t in as good of shape as he claims. Chuuya’s not going to waste all of his energy hiding it, but he’s also not ready to be discovered because he couldn’t keep his damn nose under control.

He’d never hear the end of it from Dazai.

So when he feels a trickle of damp at the edges of his nostrils he takes a slow breath in and times a much-needed sniffle with their visitor’s dropping of a folder. Dazai shoots him a curious, but unsurprised glance, which Chuuya pointedly ignores.

The sneeze teasing the swollen membranes of his sinuses, however, is much harder to ignore. Chuuya knows he can stifle it, but he also knows that doing so won’t exactly solve the problem. The irritation needs somewhere to go, or it’ll just build fruitlessly until he lets them out proper.

He breathes carefully, making sure to hitch silently as he bunches up a handful of fabric from his jacket. Chuuya ducks his head in preparation for the sneeze (or sneezes, if this is indeed a…cold).

Dazai raises an eyebrow as he watches Chuuya curl into himself and shiver with two inaudible stifles. When Chuuya uncurls Dazai can see the bleary, hazy look of someone who still has desperately to sneeze but is trying very hard not to.

“Can you stop, Chibi?” whispers Dazai. Chuuya shoots him a look that is equal parts furious and embarrassed. It’s adorable. But…

“Frankly, I’d rather not get caught because you couldn’t tame your little nose there,” Dazai continues. “Are you suuure you’re good?”

Chuuya gives a curt nod. Which should be reassuring, but Dazai’s smile falters because this is actually very bad. He recognizes the lack of quip, even while hiding like this, means that Chuuya does not trust himself enough to speak. He’s seen it before.

Dazai flicks an errant strand of hair out of his eyes and sighs. “Maybe we really will die in a church, if you keep this up.”

Chuuya’s returning grin is feral. “Y-you wish.” No way in hell will he allow Dazai the satisfaction. The carpets blanketing the enclosed den mean that they can whisper without much of an echo. It’s a small relief, since Chuuya can feel the congestion crawling and pattering away in a far back place of his nose, dormant but threatening.

He focuses on how intently Dazai is eyeing him, knowing well what Dazai isn’t saying. Engaging would be easy, but it would be messy and they’re supposed to be currying favor with the west side gangs, not killing them (or in Dazai’s case, very emphatically bonking them on the head).

Chuuya’s right eye waters with the sharpness of the tickle, as the itchiness swells and becomes decidedly less dormant. He bites his lip. If this keeps up his nose is going to turn into fucking Krakatoa.

Dazai watches Chuuya massage his flaring nostrils through the fabric of his gloves and grins with as many teeth as he can muster. Chuuya’s losing battle with his nose is even more hilarious than the fact that he’s currently sitting on a pile of Communion pamphlets.

It won’t be long now, what with the way Chuuya has gone stiff and rigid. Dazai counts backwards from five in his head. He gets to two before Chuuya’s lip trembles as the itch erupts and overwhelms him.

“Gnt!” Chuuya’s able to pinch that one into submission, though it makes his head throb and the pulsating trickle along his nose intensify with unsatisfied need. “Gnt! Nt! H’Gnt!”

He starts to lower his hand, before—“Gnt!” Jesus fuck, can’t he be done?

The answer is no, apparently, because Chuuya feels his eyes begin to flutter shut and his chest start to jump with silent, building hitches.

Before he can sneeze again, however, he feels a tap on his shoulder. It successfully distracts him from the budding sneeze as Chuuya whips his head around to stare at Dazai’s familiar, shit-eating grin.

Dazai uses the finger he’d tapped Chuuya with to beckon. “C’mere.”

Chuuya sniffs carefully and squints. “Why?”

Rolling his eyes, Dazai grabs him (gently, Chuuya notices, which okay, is a little odd) and smashes his face into his long overcoat (a little less gently).

“Mnflgl?” Chuuya questions.

“Sneeze, Chuuya,” Dazai orders. Chuuya tries to shake his head because one, Dazai’s forgetting how harsh his sneezes are—sure to give them away, and two, Chuuya might hate the guy but he’s not going to sneeze on him.

Dazai seems to read his mind. “The fabric will muffle the sound,” he replies. “And you’ll pay for my dry cleaning.” Chuuya can hear his smirk. Asshole.

But he also wants very badly to sneeze. No; at this point he’s desperate to sneeze. His nose feels like one of his gravity bombs, pulsing, thrumming, and the itch is all consuming. It would feel so good to just let a few out. He really shouldn’t.

“I know you need to,” whispers Dazai.

So, against all logic, Chuuya does.

“Hep-MPPH! MPPHT! H’MPPH!” Somehow, the fabric dampens the sound better than Chuuya thought it would. So he decides he can sneeze a little more.

“Hh…hh…MPPHT! PHT! MPPHT! Hp!…H-Hep-MPPHH!”

He’s beginning to feel dizzy. It’s worth it, though, as the stuffy, spider-crawling prickle along his nose subsides for the time being. God, he’s never had to sneeze so badly in his life. Makes sense it’s now, when he needs to be quiet.

And Dazai—the utter prick—is patting his head, like Chuuya’s some sort of mutt. “You’re a mess, you know that?” he’s saying, fondly, as Chuuya shakes with sneeze after sneeze. It’s a wonder the gang’s right hand hasn’t discovered them yet.

Slowly, Chuuya comes up for air. He thanks some leviathan god that it’s dark, so he doesn’t have to look at what he’s done to Dazai’s coat. He’s not even going to look at Dazai, because this is probably one of the most humiliating things to happen to him in…well, not as long as Chuuya’d like to admit. This is Dazai, after all.

“Bless you,” Dazai says quietly. Chuuya’s head snaps to him because Dazai sounds wrong. Odd. Genuine. Ah, that’s why it took so long to place. Dazai rarely does sincere, and the few times he expresses genuine emotions tend to signify nothing good at all.

“Thank you,” Chuuya mutters between a clenched jaw because he may have made a mess of himself but he still has manners, goddammit. He blinks the remaining wetness from his eyes as he peers at Dazai for a suspended moment.

“Oh, and if you’re curious, the guy left five minutes ago.”

And the moment is over.

Chuuya jumps up. “You utter assho-ho–” He’s cut off by the familiar needling sensation at the back of his nose. Oh no you don’t. Jamming a fist under his septum hard enough to bruise, he points a finger at Dazai.

“I despise you,” he hisses. “All thihh…th…hih…”

Dazai holds a hand to his ear. “What was that?”

Chuuya shakes his head with a tickly sniff in hopes that his nose will make up its mind and move from where it’s currently settled—in the burning, stinging place between sneeze and not sneeze that’s driving him even more up the wall than Dazai is.

Dazai cocks his head at just the right angle that a piece of hair falls into his eyes. “That sneeze looks troublesome,” he observes. “Is it stuck? Like Chuuya’s growth spurt?”

Chuuya growls and kicks a nearby chair leg for good measure, now that they don’t have to concern themselves with being quiet. The sound is hollow and echoes across the large cathedral chamber.

There’s a wrinkled, damp spot on one side of Dazai’s overcoat that Chuuya pointedly avoids looking at. The crazy bastard had let him do that, all for, what? Funsies? To torture him? Chuuya will unpack that for later. It never bodes well to try to make sense of Dazai’s brain. Besides, the much-needed sneeze is still eluding him. If he could just–just…

“Hih…Hept! Hh…Fuck! Shit!”

Dazai sighs. “Okay, I can’t watch this,” he says, striding over to Chuuya. “Stay still, Chibi.”

Chuuya glares at him, irritation evident in his eyes and in his raw, wide-blown nostrils. “If you’re doi’g anythi’g other thad helpi’g, Dazai, I will obliterate you,” he says darkly, throat crackling and sore.

Dazai grins wide. “Relax,” he says. He wiggles a finger. “I know Chuuya’s sneeze spot.”

“What the fuck even is a—” Dazai presses a finger to the bridge of Chuuya’s nose, in the center, and gives it a circular rub back and forth. Chuuya stumbles back and manages a wavering, shaky curse in French before he snaps forward with a fusillade of unrestrained sneezes.

“Hih-ASHHHu! Hep’ASHHU! AHSSHU! AHSSH! AHSSHH! AHSSHU! Merde!…Heh-heh…hih’ASHHU!”

Chuuya sneezes and sneezes, for once uncaring about decorum. It’s a miracle his hat doesn’t fly off. He’s so overcome with finally scratching the itch in his nose that he almost doesn’t feel the tap at his shoulder. Dazai’s extending a packet of tissues that look like they were newly purchased.

“Goodness! I don’t know whether to bless Chuuya or call an exorcist,” he remarks.

“Shut up,” Chuuya mutters around a tissue. With that annoyance out of the way, it’s seeping in just how awful he feels. He sighs, heavy, and rubs at a temple. “Nom de dieu…”

“I really don’t know how someone so little can sneeze with such ferocity,” continues Dazai, ignoring Chuuya. It’s easy to say the man was put on this earth for the sole purpose of making Chuuya’s life miserable. “Hih…ASHHU!” Chuuya’s head gives a throb and things slide out of focus for a minute. He coughs, rough, and pushes some sweaty hair away from his face. How unsightly.

“Oh, and Chuuya?” Dazai makes a burlesque of leaning in and peering at him. “The next time you’re sick, call in, okay?” And then he reaches one lanky arm over and pats Chuuya’s head.

“I never said I was sick,” Chuuya snaps, jerking out of reach. Dazai makes to poke his nose again, but Chuuya evades him with a hoarse snarl. “Stop.”

In response, Dazai gives him a condescending look that Chuuya knows well. It’s the one where he purses his lips and crinkles up his large, dark eyes. The one he knows infuriates Chuuya the most. “Please,” he says, waving a hand. “I knew before we even got here. Just wanted to see how long you could keep it up.”

Chuuya opens his mouth to utter some expletive, he doesn’t know which one yet, but the sneezy feeling decides to return—bristling like a thousand tiny whiskers along the rims of his inner nose. Stifling it to refute Dazai’s point will only make his head pound harder, so Chuuya wrenches to the side with a sneeze. Which, naturally, makes him cough.

“Hmmm, you really don’t sound good, Chuuya.”

“Fuck you.”

Dazai makes a face. “Ew, no thanks. But since you’re already paying for my dry cleaning, why don’t I treat you to a nice bowl of leek soup and tea?”

Dazai is so confusing at times Chuuya could strangle him. Or at least blame him for the acute emotional whiplash.

“Hh’ASSHu! AHSSH! J'en peux plus…” Chuuya twitches his nose to the side and straightens his hat. “Whatever—let’s just find that drive and get the hell out of here so I can go to bed,” he grumbles. It’s not exactly a refusal (because tea does in fact sound nice), but Chuuya is more than done with this place.

“You mean this?” Dazai wiggles a little USB between two bandaged fingers. Chuuya sputters. “Yup. Found it ages ago and switched it with a fake.”

“AAH?!”

— Fin —

#snz #snz kink #hachiisnzart #ch/uuy/a n/akahar/a #b/ungo st/ray d/ogs #o/sam/u d/az/ai #hachiibunart #ppls fics #onetrickponi #my GOODNESS poni your writing #give all the thanks to poni for the wonderful fic and patience waiting for me to finish #seeing all the ppl into b/s/d nowadays is so lovely #i'm still v much into the series and especially this angry shorty #hopefully it shows in my part >;)

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johnslittlespoon · 1 month

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You're A Dog (I'm Your Man)

Ch. 2/7 – 'I Bet On Losing Dogs'

[WC: 9K | Gale Cleven/John Egan, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Requited Unrequited Love]

John Egan loves like a dog.

[AO3 LINK]

#MORNINGGG it's hereee i'm fine i'm so relaxed about this #edit: moodboard added yippie!#i know i still need to make a moodboard i've been procrastinating alright #but these update posts are so not aesthetically pleasing so i rly gotta soon #thank u again for reading i am so overwhelmed by the love <3 #and thank u so much for your patience btwn my slow updates :')#dog coded bucky fic #johnslittlespoon fics

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yuriyuruandyuraart · 8 months

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ready to be funky!

#illustration #art #my art #fresh #utmv #undertale au #fresh sans #fresh!sans #fem!fresh #human!fresh #hooo boy am i proud of this one waaa look at my girl!!!!!#i tried emulating that 90s to 2000s whole vibe and i'm honestly very pleased with the end result!! she looks so cool aughghg #i love playing around with fresh's color palette and inventing new clothes that should never be worn by a human other than her<3333 #i started this as a doodle for the poll i held yesterday (fresh was winning at the time lol) but then i got too invested HHH #i'm so glad people liked my first fem!fresh post cause istg i'm starting to see the appeal too and i'm scared....#fresh truly IS a parasite cause he's living in my brain rent free rn omggg >:'D #thank you all so much for your patience!!! see you next weekend SOBS<3333

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sylvia-forest · 7 months

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[CN] Shaw's Warm and Clear Evening Date

⚡This post contains detailed spoiler's for a Date which hasn't released in EN yet!⚡

[This date was translated with the help of Google translate!]

✧[Section 1]✧

Rumble —

Under the pitch-black sky, heavy rain poured down. I tightly held onto the umbrella, which I could barely grip, and hurriedly walked into Shaw's antique shop.

MC: Phew, it’s raining so hard... You just said on the phone that you caught someone trespassing in the yard?

I shook off the rain stains from my clothes, looked up, and met Shaw's speechless gaze.

Shaw: I didn't say it was a human.

I paused for a moment, following his gaze to the corner, and discovered a yellow puppy lying on the ground, wagging its tail at me.

MC: Puppy?

The round head wobbled in response to my greeting. Seeing its adorable and innocent expression, it dawned on me that he was a bit of an idiot.

MC: Are you telling me that this is the same puppy that has been intruding into the yard of your antique store for the past few days, digging up the soil?

Shaw: Then who else could it be?

Shaw: If I hadn't caught it in the act today, I'd be wondering if the old man next door was trying to trick me.

Listening to his annoyed explanation, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

MC: I thought it was some misguided thief trying to dig a tunnel to break into your antique shop.

MC: Little pup, were you trying to dig a cozy little kennel? Unfortunately, the owner of this yard is not someone to mess with. You'd better find another spot.

Shaw: ...Why are you talking behind my back right in front of me?

There were rustling footsteps behind me, and as expected, I was hit on the back of my head the next second.

Shaw: This formidable owner is about to faint from hunger right now.

Shaw: Hey, weren't you clamoring for that pork belly chicken from the restaurant at the corner of the street? They're about to close at this hour.

MC: I didn’t want to be this late either, but the heavy rain was causing traffic congestion on the road.

I muttered, glancing over at the cute yellow puppy who was listening intently to us.

MC: What about the puppy? Should we help him find his owner?

Shaw: I've inquired about it; it often roams around the neighborhood. It must be a stray dog.

MC: I see... Then should we take him in for the night? After all, it's pouring outside.

Seeing me gently caressing the little puppy's head with affection, Shaw smiled warmly and reached out to pull me up.

Shaw: Well, we'll figure out what to do with it when we get back from dinner.

He said this while putting his arm around my shoulder, and with his other hand, he held the umbrella and led me towards the door. But before I could step over the threshold, he pulled me back in a sudden 'emergency brake'.

Shaw: …..

I followed his gaze and looked down at the ground outside the yard, and was dumbfounded.

The streetlamp in the rain curtain barely illuminated the road ahead, and I could vaguely see the water pooling up to the doorstep. Large raindrops pelted down relentlessly, showing no signs of weakening.

MC: ....The water wasn't this deep when I entered just now!

Shaw: The antique shop's doorstep was originally built high, but the rainwater has reached here; the accumulated water is probably up to my calves.

The pouring rain splashed around me, finding its way into every opening. I instinctively cringed, and noticing my reaction, Shaw pulled me even closer.

Shaw: If we go out in this rain, we probably won't be able to come back later.

MC: What to do then…

Before he finished speaking, a thunder suddenly exploded in the sky, and then everything went dark.

Power cut.

✧[Section 2]✧

After a moment of silent understanding between Shaw and me, he let out a sigh.

Shaw: Let's go back, the pork belly and chicken soup can wait.

I nodded my head in resignation and followed him back to the antique store. Shaw tried to turn on the lights a few times, but there was no response.

He simply threw the umbrella to the ground and sat down on the sofa.

Shaw: Well, I guess the whole street's dead.

Shaw: Oh... Now it's just the two of us and a dog, completely trapped in this pitch-black store.

Even though he said that, there was no trace of despair in his tone. He lifted his head and gave me a quick glance.

Shaw: What are you standing there for? Keeping watch?

It was only then that I slowed down a bit to get a clear picture of the situation, and dawdled in the dark to Shaw's side.

MC: The rainy season is truly annoying; it has been raining continuously for three days now.

MC: Shaw, if it doesn't stop raining tomorrow, we won't be stuck here forever, will we?

I tugged on Shaw's sleeve, and he instinctively took my restless hand in his, squeezing it gently, providing a kind of reassurance, intermittently, as if comforting me.

Shaw: What, you don't want to stay with me?

MC: That's not it. It's just that when I'm with you, I always feel like we should be doing something romantic and exciting.

MC: Instead of being stuck in the pitch-black pouring rain like this, it feels like we should be doing something adventurous, like surviving on a deserted island.

I said what was on my mind, only to hear a soft laugh in my ear, and Shaw pressed his body closer to me.

Shaw: Something romantic and exciting? Give me an example.

At first, his serious tone carried a hint of teasing, and I couldn't help but retort playfully.

MC: For example, Like going for a midnight stroll or staying up all night watching horror movies, ah...

Boom—

As if in a strange kind of response, there came a deafening thunderclap from outside just then, and the window was being hammered by the large raindrops, making a squeaky sound.

The atmosphere suddenly intensified. I couldn't help but feel my heart race, and a shiver ran down my spine. Yet, at my feet, I suddenly felt a warmth.

I lowered my head and vaguely saw the yellow puppy cowering beside my feet, seemingly trembling with fear.

I touched the puppy's body and found that its fur was a little wet, probably from the rain.

MC: Shaw, do you have any towels or something to put on the floor for him?

Shaw: Troublesome.

Shaw muttered, but stood up quickly and took out a thick towel from the cabinet and spread it on the floor.

The puppy sniffed the towel and the next moment lay down on it obediently.

Shaw: Making a bed for the dog, it feels a bit like survival on a deserted island, doesn't it?

I snorted with amusement at his self-talk.

MC: How did you get carried away by what I just said?

Shaw: What's the difference between this dreadful weather, this pitch-black environment where you can't see your own hand, and being on a deserted island?

MC: The difference is vast. On a deserted island, you don't have amenities like towels, sofas, or a roof over your head. Just having a bottle of water to drink would be considered lucky.

MC: Otherwise, people wouldn't frequently discuss — 'If you could only bring one thing to a deserted island, what would you choose?'

Shaw: I'm not surrounded by such boring people.

I ignored his sarcasm and let my eyes roam around him, and couldn't resist touching his shoulder.

MC: Well, since we have nothing else to do, why don't we indulge in some imagination too?

MC: If you were to go to a deserted island, what would you take with you? No objects or people, by the way.

I deliberately emphasized the word 'person,' staring at him intently in the darkness, hoping he could come up with this blatantly obvious answer.

Shaw paused for a moment, then seemed to burst into laughter. He thoughtfully rested his chin on his hand.

Shaw: This question is indeed a bit difficult. Shaw: Let me think, let me think. Shaw: Hmm..... A lighter? Can't do without fire after all. MC: ...Primitive humans didn't have lighters; they still made fire by drilling wood. Shaw: That makes sense. What about a flashlight? There must be no light on a deserted island. MC: You're on a deserted island; what do you need a flashlight for? You can't just wander around at night, can you? Shaw: Right.

He pondered for a moment, then suddenly slapped his thigh, as if he had figured something out. I quickly leaned in to listen.

Shaw: I got it! Shaw: I'll take my bass, During boring times, I can play a tune to entertain myself. MC: ….Shaw!!

Realizing he was teasing me, I couldn't help but shout his name at the top of my lungs.

But before I could criticize his behavior, a pitiful 'howl' came from beside my feet.

We both paused, turned on our phone flashlights, and aimed them at the puppy. It was curled up, looking at us with a terrified expression, its ears perked up high.

Shaw: Hahahahaha. Shaw: Damn it, your loud voice scared the puppy.

✧[Section 3]✧

MC: Poor little puppy, I'm sorry... It's okay, don't be afraid.

The yellow puppy lowered his head silently and even leaned towards Shaw.

Shaw: See, I told you, you're too harsh on me normally, always shouting my name. Even he couldn't stand it.

MC: You, you don't accuse me wrongly. I'm not like that all the time, am I? MC: Besides, the dog doesn't understand what we're saying; it was just scared by my tone earlier. Shaw: Pff, trying to twist the truth. MC: It's not twisting the truth! Dog trainers say that even though dogs don't understand human language, they can still sense situations based on tone of voice. Shaw: Isn't that just reading people's expressions? Do dogs have this ability? MC: You don’t believe me? MC: Some people have tried saying kind words to dogs in a harsh tone and saying mean things in a gentle tone. The reactions of the dogs were quite interesting.

After saying this, I cleared my throat and illuminated the little yellow puppy's face with the flashlight. I then gave it a big smile and lowered my voice to a whisper.

MC: Stupid dog ~

The little yellow puppy looked at me with apparent confusion, but the next moment, it enthusiastically wagged its tail at me again, proving me right. I proudly raised my eyebrows at Shaw.

MC: See, what did I say? Shaw: Interesting.

Shaw seemed intrigued and followed my lead, bending down to look at the little yellow puppy.

Shaw: Hey, good dog! Good boy! Cute dog!

He forcefully uttered a few words. His naturally cold voice, coupled with an artificially deep and menacing tone, made me shudder slightly.

Surprisingly, the little puppy still obediently wagged its tail while lying on the ground. It even approached Shaw, licking his hand.

MC: ??? Shaw: This dog expert, can you explain the current situation?

Shaw couldn't help but laugh, confidently crossing his arms, which made me pout in disbelief.

MC: ...It might just be a silly little puppy. MC: I was shivering from your tone earlier, and yet it's still happily wagging its tail at you!

In the next moment, Shaw beside me suddenly drew closer, his warm breath brushing against my ear.

Shaw: Are you sure you were scared by me? Shaw: I heard that trembling in the dark is a sign of the presence of ghosts—

The cunning and sinister tone brushed against my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine, arousing a tingling sensation, and causing my heart to skip a beat in panic.

MC: Shaw!!

I instinctively lunged at him, covering his mouth with my hand. I felt the slight quiver of his skin beneath my palm, as if he was suppressing laughter.

MC: Don't scare me with your nonsense! MC: I-I'm just dressed lightly, and I got wet in the rain, that's why I'm a bit cold...

As soon as the words left my mouth, my wrist was suddenly grasped by a warm hand. Familiar warmth enveloped my entire body in an instant.

Shaw: Why didn't you come closer earlier if you knew it was cold? Saying you're silly wouldn't be an exaggeration at all.

Shaw's arms gently wrapped around my waist, holding me in his arms.

I blinked, realizing that he'd scared me on purpose to get me closer to him.

A person who speaks one thing but means another...

Bubbles of emotions kept surfacing in my heart. I couldn't help but let a smile tug at my lips as I snuggled in his embrace.

MC: Okay, I admit it's not that cold now. Shaw: You're welcome. MC: ...Who said I was thanking you? Shaw: What's wrong? It's only natural for me to keep you warm? MC: If not?

Hearing the teasing tone in his words, I retorted back deliberately. Shaw chuckled softly in response.

Shaw: Okay, everything you said is right.

We were laughing and hugging each other tightly, and the mood was just right when an inappropriate gurgle came from the pit of my stomach.

Shaw: Hungry? MC: A little… Shaw: If you'd be so kind as to loosen your grip around my waist, I'll go and get something to eat. MC: It was obviously you who held me tightly…

Blushing, I grumbled reluctantly and slowly released my grip.

Shaw went to a cabinet and rummaged through it for a long time, and finally came over with a bag.

Shaw: Unfortunately, all the snacks were almost eaten, and I only found a piece of rice cake.

I took the bag, opened it, broke the rice cake into two, and handed it to Shaw.

The little yellow puppy at our feet perked up at the sound and stood up, its pitiful eyes fixed on Shaw.

Shaw made a dissatisfied 'tsk' sound, but he honestly broke off a small piece of the rice cake and fed it to the little yellow puppy.

Shaw: You little rascal, I haven't even confronted you about digging up soil in my yard, and now you're here freeloadin', eating and drinking? MC: Some people, despite what they say, are still generous enough to give the puppy a bite.

I teased Shaw and stuffed a bite of rice cake into his mouth.

MC: Don't blame him for getting the better of you, he just knows you won't say no, after all, dogs can tell who the ‘good guys’ are.

✧[Section 4]✧

Shaw, not appreciating my remark, raised his eyebrows and cast a glance at the little yellow puppy.

Shaw: What's so great about being a "good guy"? Don't label me like that.

His unexpected reaction amused me, and I struggled to suppress the curve forming at the corner of my lips.

MC: Mmm~ You only fed it because the rice cake was too unappetizing for you to swallow. MC: You didn't chase it away tonight. Is it because the shop is too dull, and you need some entertainment? Shaw: No, it's because a nosy person decided for me to keep it, so wouldn't it be rude of me to say no? MC: So what? What's the point of being a "bad guy"?

Shaw: …..

Shaw, usually so eloquent, found himself at a loss for words as I choked him. With a satisfied exhale, I casually rested against his shoulder, narrowing my eyes.

Outside the window, the wind and rain raged in bursts, but inside the antique shop, not a trace of disturbance could be felt. It seemed like a tiny haven, impervious to the tumult outside.

Early the next morning, the birds outside the courtyard sang crisply, and the clear sunlight was scattered in a charming pattern, bathing my entire body in a warm glow.

I stretched lazily on the sofa, opened my eyes, and looked around, only to find that Shaw and the little yellow puppy were not in the shop. On the table, there was soy milk and deep-fried dough sticks, emitting wisps of hot steam.

I put on my shoes and walked out of the store to see a familiar figure sitting on the front steps of the antique store.

He's got a brand new and filled doggy bowl in front of him, and the little yellow puppy was burying his head in it and feasting on it.

Dappled light played on the upright figure of the young man, outlining soft and captivating contours with a gentle sway.

The fresh air after the rain draped a faint tranquility around him. I couldn't help but linger at the shop's entrance, captivated and momentarily unable to avert my gaze.

Shaw: Why are you eating so fast? Shaw: Don't worry, the sister at the store may be a glutton, but she won't steal from you. MC: ...Why are you talking behind my back right in front of me?

I deliberately imitated his tone and interrupted the communication between Shaw and the little yellow puppy.

Shaw: I didn't say anything by name. Why are you so eager to be on the same page? MC: ……

I was silenced by his forceful words, approaching them and taking a careful look around.

MC: I hadn't even mentioned certain people, who were calling it a silly dog at every turn but still ended up buying it dog food. Shaw: At least we're comrades who've spent a night together, let's just consider it making a new friend.

As he spoke, he touched the little yellow puppy's head.

Shaw: Ah Huang, from now on, I permit you to station yourself here. MC: Ah Huang? That's a corny name. Shaw: So you'll come up with a fancy one?

Before I could come up with anything, Ah Huang, who was eating, had already licked the dog bowl clean.

He stretched in a downward dog motion, wagged his tail at us perfunctorily, and then headed out of the yard without looking back.

Shaw: Ah Huang? Come here.

Ah Huang paid no attention to Shaw, leaving only a swaying and twisting figure behind.

Shaw and I were stunned on the spot at the same time. After a moment, I came to my senses and couldn't help but burst out laughing.

MC: Hahaha, Ah Huang is quite cool. You were thinking of making "friends" with it, weren't you?

Shaw had a face full of black lines, and when he opened his mouth to say something, the sound of the alarm clock suddenly came from my pocket, and I suddenly exclaimed.

MC: I have to go to work now. Don't forget to tell me about Ah Huang's sequel, okay? Shaw: What's the follow-up? Such an "ungrateful" guy ....Well, I'll just let it continue wandering. MC: Mm-hmm, and with a whole bag of dog food added, Ah Huang will be the richest among all the stray dogs.

After speaking, I hurriedly rushed into the shop, grabbed my bag, took the packaged soy milk and a fried dough stick, and ran out of the door.

Just as I ran out of the shop, I encountered Shaw with a rather unfriendly expression.

The mischievous smile at the corner of his lips was too evident. I hesitated for a moment, realizing that this person most likely intended for me to foot the bill for the earlier "wild talk."

I couldn't help but smile and tiptoed, planting a gentle kiss on his face.

MC: Thanks for the breakfast. For this belated treat, I'll treat you to pork belly and chicken soup tonight!

Before he could react, I quickly walked towards the courtyard exit. When I reached the door, I turned around and waved to him.

The gentle warmth of the morning sun swept away the terror of the torrential rain. Everything after the rain appeared tranquil and beautiful, as if reborn.

The sunlight fell on the young man's eyebrows and hair, and there seemed to be light pulsing in his golden eyes.

He leaned against the door casually and looked back at me quietly.

The events of last night flashed through my mind, and I couldn't help but smile. Vaguely, I remembered a question that had been overlooked.

MC: Shaw, yesterday when you answered the deserted island survival question, you deliberately didn't mention my name... MC: Could it be because you are reluctant to take me to such a dangerous place?

Shaw clearly didn't expect me to bring this up suddenly. He habitually raised his attractive eyebrows and his slightly pursed lips seemed to be contemplating how to 'retaliate'.

But soon, he just smiled, his rare soft eyes shining quietly under the warm sun.

Shaw: Don’t you always say that no matter where I go, no matter how dangerous or exciting it is, you will follow me? Shaw: Well, what's there to answer in the first place?

That expression on his face, arrogant as always, seemed to indicate that this answer was the only one, the one he firmly believed in.

Shaw: Besides, what danger could there be on a deserted island? Shaw: Being with me is the safest place in the world.

—

🐶Call: here

#this date is so warm and cozy #not them acting like an old married couple 🤭#JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY!!#anyways so sorry for not being so active I'll try to catch up with everything real soon!#thank you so much for your patience!#mlqc spoilers #mlqc cn #mlqc shaw #mlqc ling xiao #mlqc translations #mr love queen's choice #mlqc #love and producer

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