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#Cover Cough
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lord-westley · 3 months
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Whenever there are no customers and no tasks to complete, i leave behind drawings everywhere at work
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sunforgrace · 1 year
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*fallen soldier bleeding out in your arms in the trenches* remember when they played carry on wayward son twice
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kana7o · 2 years
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[So you think you can love me and leave me to die]
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goblinlurkin · 4 months
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He's spilling coconut oil everywhere, fucking idiot
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basilirl · 9 months
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i dont think theres ever too much carruni methinks
@sparklecarehospital !!
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starryluminary · 4 months
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I said “It might blow up in your pretty face”
I’m not saying do it anyway… but you’re going to
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With the title for funsies!!
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lesbiankordian · 11 months
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Why did Dazai put his hand on Chuuya's forearm?
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(ID in alt)
because when someone's choking you, you grab their WRIST, to put the pressure from your throat, not their forearm. (wise words from this video. i actually did research for that. what's more is that at first Dazai did put his hand on Chuuya's wrist but changed it a panel later. he could've put it lower on the glove but he didn't do that and instead had it on his forearm until Chuuya punched him. also idc if he's not really choking Dazai bc even so for sb who hates pain this cannot be comfortable. also Chuuya why are you doing that if you don't wanna actually hurt him huh?).
and the way Dazai's touch can't even be called a grab bc it's so light... this man really just wanted to touch Chuuya's skin - otherwise he'd have gone for his wrist (which is gloved)...
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and an additional thing that's probably me overanalyzing but oh well:
i know that in the 2nd pic, after their fight with Lovecraft, the touch was needed, but it's interesting how Dazai touches Chuuya at the very same place that he did in the PM's basements. let's say that's where he would touch him while nullifiying corruption most times. soo imagine that the Dazai from the PM prison scene touched Chuuya there - so lightly, as if checking if he can still do it - as a way of asking Chuuya if he still trusted him with corruption and their partnership. that touch holds memories of so many of the double black's battles and, most importantly, of the trust that used to be - and maybe still is, that's what Dazai's checking (and what will be confirmed during the fight with Lovecraft) - between them.
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mattsmemes · 1 year
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thespacesay · 5 months
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hey!
if you, your child, or anyone you know and plan to hang out with are coughing/sneezing rn... please consider NOT going to a public place like a cafe! or, send the healthy one inside MASKED.
baristas and line cooks and register workers and servers and all service workers are PEOPLE WHO CAN AND DO GET SICK.
- sincerely, a cafe worker who is immunocompromised, needs to be healthy for an upcoming procedure, and whose coworkers pretty much are all sharing a flu
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maikhiwi00 · 9 months
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TRANSFORMERS: GENERATION 1 (1984-1987) 4.01 | The Rebirth, Part 1
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happybird16 · 1 year
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Levi, unabashedly walking up to a random stranger:
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critdeeznuts · 1 year
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i LOVE how every fanartist and creative person in the dndads fandom looked at the designs for the teens on the cover art and was like "Yeah no thanks. Except you, Taylor, you're perfect."
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sagau-my-beloved · 1 year
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The unexpected third and final part to the series I never gave a name to, otherwise known as a continuation of the jealous Venti, overworked reader, and treasure hoarders fiasco
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Warnings: general sagau, blood, implied death (not main characters)
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You had found it rather odd when a certain god wasn't waiting for you after calling it a day and retiring to your chambers. Venti certainly wasn't known to be absent like this, and you couldn't remember seeing him once today.
You didn't let it linger on your mind for very long, alone time was quite a rarity after all. As much as you enjoyed his company, and the company of all your followers, moments where you could simply be by yourself were few and far between.
So you brushed the situation off, retiring to bed earlier that night, happy to have the opportunity to sprawl out completely in the large comfortable bed. What you didn't expect was waking in the middle of the night for no discernible reason.
It wasn't sudden, not due to any sort of sound or occurrence that jerked you from your slumber so rudely. But, nonetheless, you found yourself awake, tired and confused, but awake.
You opened your eyes for a moment, squinting slightly, the feeling of sleep still coating your mind completely. It only took a second to notice, just a small glance to see the glowing green eyes that stared back at you, unblinking.
You mentally jumped, inhaling suddenly before your mind caught up, recognizing the owner of those eyes, even with only the moon for light.
"Venti, I told you to stop that you know." You moaned with a voice still thickly coated with sleep, grabbing the spare pillow and forcing it over your head in annoyance. He remained silent, unmoving, just as focused on you.
After a moment you finally looked at him again, taking in more on his form as your eyes adjusted to the dark.
Something struck a chord with you, an inkling of confusion at the scene, and it took a moment longer to realize why.
Venti was fully in his Archon outfit, both his wings and marks on display, an outfit as revealing as you remembered you mentally noted.
But that wasn't the thing that concerned you. No, the thing that concerned you was how he was covered in red, trailing down his arms to his fingertips, soaking into the white fabric, splattered across his skin and wings alike.
"Venti—?"
"Your grace."
His voice was heavy, lacking any and all of the usual upbeat playfulness, as serious as ever, but with a hint of something else.
"I told you I would take care of it for you, didn't I?" He spoke it like a humorless joke, something that could be seen as funny or ironic in the right context, and it took your mind a moment to catch up with what exactly he meant.
The treasure hoarders. Of course. One of the many things that was taking your attention, one of the few he could do something about.
Realizing that the blood was, in fact, not his, you felt the need to roll your eyes at the heart attack he gave you, scold him for being so reckless, or maybe reprimand him for going against your wishes in the first place.
"Venti I swear—"
"I love you."
That caught you off guard, how he said it. It was whispered as a promise, a soft inkling of his true feelings, as if comparing a single drop of water to the ocean.
"I worship you."
You noted how his voice fell off into a breathy moan at the end, leading into a deep sigh of need, a need only you were allowed to invoke. One the was felt in the very fiber of his being, lighting up each and every nerve as if they were made of stardust itself.
You let the growing silence rest, consuming the both of you in its open arms.
What a most perfect silence it was.
You were upset with him, that much was clearly abundant from your expression alone, a scowl that showed you were considering how to deal with the situation.
"If you left me, I think I might die." This time it was spoken as a confession, holding the same humorless tone, as if it held all the truth of the universe, infinite in its implication.
You scoffed, "Do you really rely on me so heavily?" You had meant it to be teasing, a playful statement meant only to poke fun. It didn't come out as such, sounding more like an accusation, one seeped thoroughly in frustration.
Venti seemed to ponder his response, contemplating the phrasing, testing out the syllables as if they were completely foreign.
"I do."
How simple, how transparent, how utterly human this god sounded, no different than how he felt, you thought. Skin soft and perfect, warm, as if it really was blood that ran through his veins. You supposed that was another thing you now had in common, the liquid that ran through your body being just as foreign, with its divine metallic sheen.
You took a moment to breathe, to ground yourself, to fully feel the moment.
He looked pretty like that, godly and divine, something almost pure, which of course heavily contrasted with the blood drying on his clothes, splattered across his skin like a canvas. It soaked into his wings too, creating a patchy and inconsistent pattern of blotchy red on white, like rose petals on freshly fallen snow.
Why was that the first comparison that came to mind?
You pondered that question, biting your lip with a concentrated look. He certainly wasn't pure like the snow, nor nearly as gentle, though perhaps as fleeting. And to compare blood to roses, how cliche.
Venti wasn't fond of having your attention off him, not now when he had gone to such lengths to secure it all for himself.
"Your grace, you better not be thinking of anyone else." It wasn't so much a threat as a plea, a soft and broken request to be the sole recipient of something so precious. Of course, that isn't to say it didn't come with certain strings attached, a silent reminder of the situation, a soft reference to how what he was covered in was in fact not something as innocent as rose petals.
Your eyes shifted back to him, refusing to relinquish even an ounce of what you were thinking, guarded as ever.
"I'm not letting you get any closer until you take a bath, or at least change clothes."
Venti pouted for a moment, then started crawling his way from the foot of the bed towards you, an expression that screamed nothing but want and careful hope.
"Venti." It was said as a warning. Though you were aware that most of the blood was probably dry by now, you still didn't particularly want to risk it. He only gave a wolfish smile and inched closer, intent obvious to any onlookers.
"Venti—" You weren't able to finish your sentence, being immediately lunged at by the playful and needy god.
He giggled and you struggled momentarily before giving in, fighting to keep a smile off your face, to maintain that frustration that came so naturally before.
"I apologize your grace, you just looked so warm and soft sitting there, I couldn't help myself."
You scoffed at him, "Maybe put on some actual clothes then."
He whined at that, nuzzling closer as if you were the only source of heat he'd willingly take from.
He was covered in goosebumps, you could feel them across his skin as you ran your fingertips over his arm. He shuddered.
"It's cold outside tonight." He mumbled into your skin, soaking up all the warmth you provided. "I didn't feel it till now."
You let out an absentminded hum, one that showed your mind was elsewhere. Venti raised his head to look at you, fear creeping into his mind now that the adrenaline had worn off.
"You're not upset, right?"
He certainly didn't regret it, doing away with the hindrances who were all too happy to greedily steal your attention, whether they knew it or not. They deserved it.
"Well, I think you took it a bit far."
His heart dropped.
Venti was quick to recover, quick to decide exactly his next course of action, what honeyed words would get him back in your good graces.
You made a noise of surprise as you felt his arms leave you, giving him a questioning look as he reluctantly pulled himself away.
He stepped off the bed, keeping eye contact as he dropped to his knees, a half-smile playing at the corners of his lips before closing his eyes completely, bowing his head with nothing but the up most of reverence. There's no denying he looked incredibly beautiful sitting there on his knees, his wings falling behind him with such elegance. It would be no stretch of the imagination to say he was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen, with the moonlight reflecting off the white and red alike, indiscriminately illuminating each individual color, as if it was made of the finest of stones.
"My divine creator, please forgive me for my transgressions." He spoke in prayer, pronouncing each word with the same meaningful intent.
"I offer myself to you. I would burn forests and mountains alike to cinders, create storms that could cut through stone, so long as you'll have me." The calm and steady voice he had prior was starting to dissipate, shattering to reveal the desperation underneath. "Please, look upon me, I beg you to do so. Look at my face and know that I am a slave to your every whim. Every desire. Please. Please continue to love me."
You were at a loss for words when he opened his eyes again to look up at you, searching your face for something, anything. You continued to give nothing away.
Fear gripped him in that moment of silence, holding him hostage in morbid anticipation.
"Take a bath, go get changed, and then come to bed." You finally spoke, a form of tiredness weighing heavy on your voice. What type of tiredness he didn't have the means to discern, but you welcoming him back into your embrace was a promising notion.
Venti quickly nodded with wide eyes, unable to keep a smile at your 'supposed forgiveness' off his face. He, just as quickly, stood from your bedside and started to leave, intentionally dragging his wings over your face as you sputtered, causing you to glare and him to look back with a coy smile, throwing in a wink for good measure as you just rolled your eyes. You heard him giggle once he was out the door. How he managed to jump from completely serious to the exact same playful demeanor you had come to know eluded you completely.
You thought briefly about the conversation you would be having with him in the morning, already planning out the intricate lines and responses, allowing the repetition to lull you into something close to sleep, finally fully embracing it when you felt a weight dip the opposite side of the bed and a pair of arms wrapping around your torso as a familiar face made itself comfortable against the back of your neck.
Venti thought about the morning as well, but in quite a different way, allowing imagery of him and you together fill his mind. From the peak of Starsnach cliff to the low valley of Windrise, from your bed to the farthest reaches of Teyvat, he would do anything in order to experience it all with you.
God help anyone who got in the way of that.
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bucket-of-amethyst · 1 year
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PURPLE PURPLE THE TEAM EVER!! 🐼💜🐼💜🐼💜🐼
I've been working on this for more than a week straight ILL NEVER BE NORMAL ABOUT THEM!!!
i have commissions open! :D
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theartofmetal · 11 months
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132. Ritual Abuse - Cough (Doom/Stoner Metal, 2010)
Art by Glyn Smyth / Scrawled Design
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