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#but i hope you read and like it
mizanplaz · 1 month
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I WROTE A FANFIC!
I haven't written a fic since 2012-2014, but the other night, i couldn't sleep, so i just wrote a Link/Zelda one shot.
Please check it out and enjoy!
I have a couple of ideas for more fics so Ill post about it when i upload them.
Im very anxious about sharing my writing, but i need to share it to try and let go of that anxiety.
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ruporas · 1 month
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dragon meat, you, and me
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mebis-art-dump · 8 days
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She is so cool
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stil-lindigo · 8 months
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warmth.
a comic about not being alone.
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creative notes:
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all my other comics
store
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radioducky · 13 days
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Casino-DressCode
Excited for the Casino Party in the upcoming chapter “Of Saints and Sinners” by @morningstarwrites 🫶
It was meant to be a sketch…
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Feelings Thawed
Character; Cater Diamond
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
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The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.
“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.
Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 
He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.
You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.
He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.
Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”
Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”
You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”
Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.
“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 
The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.
You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”
Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 
It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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visionsofmagic · 7 months
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day 2: ryomen sukuna [breeding kink]
࿓ synopsis • sukuna just wants a womb to put his babies in but it changes when he fucks you.
―❦ nsfw, explicit language, f!reader, heian era!sukuna who has fours arms, concubine!reader, contains of a bit dark themes, licking, marks, pet names, humiliation, sukuna is being sukuna, a bit of fluff, sex addiction, fingering, cum, overstimulation [‘is all I guess?] • 1.8k • the first time I am writing for my favorite villain from jjk. Excited but there can be mistakes. enjoy! [kinktober m.]
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“fuck brat!” a dark chuckling, mocking you as his crimson four eyes look at below - at the mess you are making because of his thick cocks inside your walls, deep enough to make it ache like hell yet magnificent enough to give you the pleasure no one can. “look at how my seed is coming out of your pathetic pussy.” 
he doesn’t wait for you to respond- to even comprehend what he’s saying, holding your smaller face by the chin as his palm stays on your cheek. 
he lowers your head down, making you look at his cocks disappearing inside your pussy, and a bit of his hot semen dripping from it to his abdomen. 
“it’s-“ you try to say, sounding husky since you have only moaned, and screamed in the last few hours. closing your eyes, a jolt of electricity mixed with pain and pleasure runs through your body, even in veins, when he moves his hips, thrusting into you one more time before making you sit on his cocks once again - oh, his two damn big cocks should’ve ripped you apart if he wasn’t this gentle, surprisingly calm and gentle because he wants you to stay alive - you will have his legacy inside your womb after all, the reason why he fucks you for the past few hours.
“is it too much?” mocking again, his tongue on the abdomen takes a lick from your abdomen, traveling to your breasts from there, sending another mix of tears and moans.
“suku – aghh!“ a slap on the ass, “my king! oh, it’s - it’s too much! I can’t - I can’t -!” 
he only laughs at your poor attempts, “you can’t?” he asks, not a question though, only a treat as he sounds like pure poison. one of his hands holds you from your neck harshly enough to make you shake in fear for a moment while the other free one caress your hair - the opposite actions of his two arms gives you a dizzying sensation that takes your logical side from you, giving you pure insanity in return.
“be grateful that I fuck you whore,” his other two hands hold your waist as he makes you move forward and backward, riding you slowly. you only hear your own breaths as if there is nothing left inside your lungs, eyes already blurred that look at his bastard but attractive face, hands standing beside you because you have no brain to use them, not anymore, not after he fucked you in 5 different positions already. “there are thousands of women and men who beg for my cocks, you know that, right brat?” 
his hands move from your waist to your ass, grasping the flesh tightly – too tightly to leave red marks as you believe after feeling a sudden heat rushing to the skin he is holding, however, he doesn’t care at all – why he should anyway? you’re just one of his concubines – maybe his favorite one for the moment, and him showing you mercy and a bit of affection – unlike he does for others – doesn’t mean anything; you’re just there to take his hot semen every now and then, whenever he wants to fuck that pussy and brain of yours so that you can have his legacy inside you, heir to him – lots of heirs.
“puff –“ he says, scoffing after that, picking you up – a pathetic and cuckdumbed woman in his arms, he thinks, gazing at your half-closed eyes, agape mouth – salvia running out of it, “disgusting,” he says in a low tone but contrary to his words, his actions are proof that he likes what he sees because he keeps going and going until his eyes travel from that open mouth of yours he wants to put one of his cocks in, to your breasts full of biting marks that turned to red, moving to your pussy from there.
his cocks’ tips standing beneath your pussy that is pouring his semen ‘cause it is too fucking much.
shaking his head in arrogance, he puts your body on his lap with a bridal style, left hands staying on your back while a free one stays on your pussy, caressing it and he watches how your body begins to shake again, a hand is put on his chest, holding his wide open sleeve’s side tightly as if you have right to do that, and even your head fall into his shoulder, breathing rapidly yet lowly as he holds your body close to him.
why he does that – why he allows you to do that; remains unanswered.
he doesn’t think much, not now, he has a desire to put that damn semen into your wide-open pussy.
holding your thighs apart, his fingers – two long and thick fingers enter into your messy slit, white wetness joins into hot walls one by one, and it continues until sukuna is satisfied with it. “do not fucking dare to move now, woman.” he treats you. he sounds he is one step away from breaking your neck if you do move. you should fear him, you know, oppositely, you do otherwise, giving astonishing state to sukuna, making him freeze for a moment when he feels you getting closer to him, a hand travels on his neck, and a head sits on his shoulder, you even open your legs wider.
you don’t say anything, the mouth is too dry to speak aloud; he gets it though – and that gives satisfaction to him, and his responses end with a new position.
being the definition of menace for desires live within him, and you witness it when he puts you on the carpet, hovering below you as he cages you between his four arms, then, one of them appears on your abdomen, pushing it into the floor – gently yet it feels terrifying.
you look into his crimson eyes, hoping to see sanity inside them – what a fool you’re to try searching.
no, no – you think to yourself, conscious coming back even though you're high – he will not fuck you as a concubine now, he will fuck you as if you’re his queen, you’re so sure of it and the words slipping out of his smirking mouth prove you right.
“I will fuck so many babies inside this womb that you won’t be able to even walk, pretty slut,” a compliment, huh, sounds different than you thought, still, gives a jolt of happiness throughout your entire body that lying beneath his massive body, ready to take him one more – or maybe even more – time.  “I will make a fucking queen out of you with my children. don’t you worry whore,”
the only thing you can remember is seeing his big smile – entertaining before the only thing you can comprehend is his presence below you, behind you, under you – hands conquers every part of your body because you’re his – the one who will give him heir, stay beside him, being a fucking queen of kings of curses. “you’re entirely mine now. mine to have – fuccck! – mine to fuck! and mine to breed.”
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❦ tagging: @lilvampirina !
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vyeoh · 22 days
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(The Washington Post)
For those who don't know, the US Supreme Court just ruled that states are allowed to enforce trans healthcare for minors. Undoubtedly, this will trigger a wave of other states that either hope to pass or have already passed policies to do the same. This is going to kill children, and harm more in long-lasting ways.
So, how can you help?
FUCKING VOTE. I don't care if you don't like Biden, he's not the only one on the ballot. Vote representatives into your city council who will turn our city into a sanctuary city. Vote for governors and state reps who will, even if they don't pass new protections, oppose bans being pushed through. Chsllenge and kick out conservative incumbents who are banking on their races being obscure enough for people to not vote in.
Anyone telling you voting is useless is either lying to you or grossly uninformed and think saying this is the edgy new take that will make them look hip and informed. Yes, the system is broken. But short of burning the whole thing to the ground (which personally I'm not a fan of as I quite enjoy having like. Roads and the FDA) what we can do is to change it for the better, by starting with the local races and working our way up.
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deep-space-lines · 1 month
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okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.
yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything
((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))
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and then they fucked nasty the end
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josukespimphand · 2 years
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It’s been another billion years since I’ve last posted ahh. Um, Happy CSM day~
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bubblingsteam · 5 days
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sensitiveheartless · 2 months
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Written followup to the horrors comic! It got away from me lol. Most of it's under the cut, cause this part is also a bit long.
~*~
Minutes passed by on the quiet moonlit dock.
Despite the renewed serenity of the night, Chuuya’s heart continued to race sickeningly fast. It hammered away in his chest, as if unable to fully grasp that the danger had passed.
His clothes were heavy and waterlogged, so cold against his skin that he could barely keep from shivering. Icy trickles ran down the back of his neck and dripped from his hair.
Closing his eyes didn’t help. There were far too many twisted corpses engraved in the darkness whenever he blinked. So he kept his eyes open, staring at the planks beneath them as he tried to steady his breathing.
Don’t think about it, Chuuya told himself. Don’t think about them.
Instead, he forced himself to remain in the present moment. Beneath the planks, he could hear the swell of the ocean waters, each wave lapping at the posts in a quiet rhythm. Salt filled his lungs with every breath, the heavy tang of the sea-soaked wood wafting around him.
And against his chest was Dazai’s head, a steady and grounding pressure. His ear rested over Chuuya’s heart, his arms still tight around him.
In that position, Dazai must have been able to hear how hard Chuuya’s heart was pounding—but surprisingly, he didn’t remark upon it. He remained utterly silent.
In return, Chuuya didn’t say a word about the almost crushing strength of Dazai’s arms where they wrapped around his middle. Dazai’s fingers were digging into his ribs, twin rows of sharp pressure, and Chuuya could feel them shaking.
Dazai’s hair was coarse where Chuuya’s cheek rested against it. Back in the day, before Dazai’s defection, he never bothered with conditioner. It seemed some things never changed, even in the light.
For one wild moment, Chuuya wished that he wasn’t wearing a pair of gloves—then he could bury his bare fingers in Dazai’s hair and see if it was as tangled as it looked. And, perhaps, warm himself up. Dazai was like a radiator against him, heat seeping through Chuuya’s drenched layers of clothes at every point of contact, but his gloves remained cold, the sodden leather chilling him to the bone. His joints ached as he uncurled his fingers from around Dazai’s shoulders.
Perhaps it would be worth it to just…indulge for a moment, if only to have something else to needle Dazai about. Really, the man needed to learn how to groom himself properly one of these days.
As Chuuya’s hand hovered indecisively over Dazai’s head, however, he realized that his heart rate had already evened out. While he was reminiscing about Dazai’s damn mess of hair, of all things.
Ridiculous. But that meant that there was absolutely no excuse for the two of them to remain wrapped around each other any longer. Dazai’s shivering seemed to have calmed as well.
“We should—” Chuuya’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, so he paused and cleared his throat before going on. “We should make sure it’s really gone. I don’t want that thing getting the jump on me again.”
Dazai tensed, and his grip tightened so much that for a moment Chuuya could scarcely breathe.
“Oi. C’mon, you need to let me up,” Chuuya wheezed, swatting at Dazai’s shoulder. He strained his neck to look down at the head buried against his chest, a pang of something that was surely exasperation tightening his throat. “I need to be able to reach it, Dazai.”
Dazai remained still for another long moment, then abruptly loosened his grip. Instead of letting Chuuya up, however, he pushed him down to sit on the damp planks, and rose to his feet himself.
“I’ll go,” Dazai said quietly, and strode past Chuuya towards the small, oval mirror where it lay shattered on the dock.
Right. It did make sense to have Dazai touch it first, in case it was an ability that could be nullified.
…But what if it’s not? What if it’s something like Lovecraft? Dazai will be defenseless, Chuuya thought, and instinctively started to his feet as well.
“Stay back,” Dazai said sharply, without even turning to look. He was standing over the mirror, staring down at it. “Don’t move forward until I say so.”
Chuuya scowled, but remained in place. He watched as Dazai bent down and extended a careful hand towards the shards of glass.
One tap, with the tip of a finger. Then another, less cautious tap against the side of the wooden frame. Then another, and another, Dazai’s touches moving systematically across every inch of shattered glass and broken wood.
Nothing happened.
Dazai breathed out, and stepped back. “There. You are now welcome to crush it into dust,” he said lightly, waving Chuuya forward.
His head was still downturned, his eyes cast in the shadow of his bangs as Chuuya walked past him to do the deed.
It was with deep pleasure that Chuuya pressed each little bit of the mirror into nothingness, grinding it down with the overwhelming weight of gravity.
After it was done, Chuuya scattered the dust into the ocean waters below. “What the fuck was that thing, anyway?” he asked, turning back to face the other.
When he turned, however, he found Dazai had moved to sit on the edge of the dock, his legs dangling off the edge.
His back was facing Chuuya. It seemed deliberate.
At first, Dazai didn’t respond to Chuuya’s question. The silence stretched long enough that Chuuya began to shiver again, the cold wind cutting through his damp clothes.
“…A Face Like Glass,” Dazai said at last. “That’s what the ability was called.”
“So it was a gifted,” Chuuya muttered. He walked to Dazai’s side, and dropped down beside him with a heavy sigh. “That mean the user is still out there somewhere?”
“No,” Dazai said softly. “She died some time ago, I’m afraid.”
Chuuya looked at him sharply. “What?”
There wasn’t much light by which to see, but Chuuya knew Dazai’s face like the back of his own hand. Better, probably. And he could tell that the detective’s features had gone unnaturally still.
It was how Dazai looked whenever he was unsure of how much he should give away. Typically his poker faces were more natural, but when he was strongly conflicted, he would simply go blank.
“Explain,” Chuuya said, crossing his arms. “That thing almost killed me, I think I ought to know what it was.”
That got a reaction. Dazai’s lips twitched downward and he looked away, hiding his face from Chuuya once again.
After another lingering pause, however, he finally began to talk.
“A Face Like Glass was the ability of a woman named Hardinge,” Dazai said, as blandly as if he were reciting a history lesson. “She could reflect the darkest thoughts of anyone who looked into that mirror of hers, and give those thoughts physical form. Quite literally a nightmare to deal with, as one can imagine. She was the terror of England. However, after she rose to prominence, the mirror began to behave a bit oddly.
“The more renowned Hardinge became, the more people began to fear her ability. She kept the exact details of the mirror shrouded in mystery, so her enemies were always speculating what horrors it might do to them next.
“Naturally, over time, their darkest thoughts became consumed with fear of the mirror itself. And when Hardinge reflected those thoughts, manifesting them into reality…well. You can imagine what happened.”
Chuuya’s hands formed fists in his lap, so tight the leather of his gloves creaked. His fingers were somehow even colder than before. “A runaway effect,” he said. Despite his best efforts, his voice came out rough. “A singularity.”
“Quite,” Dazai said. “The heights of human imagination should never be underestimated. The more powerful anyone imagined the mirror was, the more powerful it became. When their fears manifested, their imaginations ran ever more wild with terrifying possibilities. Which it would also reflect. And so on, and so on. The only one who could control it was Hardinge herself, stopping the runaway cycle by covering the mirror. She acted as a control for the ability for many years, preventing it from going too far.
“But one day, one of her enemies had the dubiously clever idea to turn the mirror back on Hardinge herself. Which, ordinarily, would have been a mere scare tactic. I’m sure their only intent was to make her hesitate to use the mirror by making her own fears manifest.
“However, that is not what happened. Keep in mind, Hardinge had been watching this ability of hers grow with each battle she fought, gaining strength after strength, only barely containing it with her efforts. Sometimes it must have seemed so powerful that it nearly eclipsed her own self.
“Anyone would be frightened of that. It can’t be surprising that her darkest thoughts contained the fear that her mirror would one day consume her.”
Silence stretched, frigid and fragile as ice.
“…So her own ability ate her,” Chuuya said flatly.
“Yes,” Dazai said. “And without anyone left to contain it, the mirror was unleashed.”
Chuuya rubbed wearily at his temples. “Okay. Then how did it get here? To Yokohama?”
“From what I hear, Hardinge was not popular with the Order of the Clock Tower,” Dazai said. “She had gone into hiding here when her ability overtook her. The Special Operations Division then sent out operatives to contain it.”
Chuuya raised his head. “Oh. They’re involved? Wait, does that mean…was that ex-drinking buddy of yours the one who told you all this?”
Dazai nodded, and Chuuya could faintly make out a crooked smile on his lips in the darkness. “Ango called to warn me of its escape. They had done everything they could to keep it locked away so it could be studied, but all it took was one researcher fearing that the creature had the ability to get out of its cell, and it immediately had that power,” he said, leaning back on his bandaged palms. He gave Chuuya a sidelong look, heavy with significance. “Then, of course, while Ango was briefing me on A Face Like Glass, I also got word that a certain tiny mafioso had gone out to fight an unknown monster that was terrorizing the shipyards.”
Chuuya met his stare with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, so?” he said. “It was scaring my subordinates. Someone had to do something.”
Dazai’s gaze darkened further. “Chuuya, you went alone,” he said. “You tried to face it all by yourself, without even knowing what it was. You could have —” He broke off, and looked away once more. His nails were digging into the wood of the dock, his shoulders stiff. 
Hiding again, Chuuya thought.
For a moment, Chuuya considered pointing out that there wasn’t anyone for him to call for help. Very few of the other mafia members could stand up to an otherworldly threat—and even those who could, like Akutagawa, were not anyone who Chuuya would want exposed to a fear-monster. Everyone in the mafia had far too much darkness to reflect.
Besides, Dazai had no room to scold Chuuya when he was the one who had left him without a partner in the first place.
But even as Chuuya contemplated speaking those cutting words aloud, he found himself unable to.
Because even though Chuuya hadn’t called, Dazai had come anyway.
And, if the reflections of that ability could be believed, one of Dazai’s darkest thoughts was losing Chuuya to Corruption. Right alongside Dazai’s fear of his own past self, and his fear of disappointing his old friend. That…changed some things.
Chuuya sighed, releasing a long-held weight. Then he prodded Dazai’s shoulder with a cold, gloved fingertip. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me.”
Dazai’s shoulders hitched higher, but he didn’t turn.
“What’s your deal?” Chuuya demanded, poking him again. “You don’t have to hide from me, idiot. What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you for having emotions?”
That, apparently, surprised Dazai enough to glance back at Chuuya, his brow furrowed.
“Because I won’t,” Chuuya said. “Not about this. I mean…look, before you showed up, that mirror motherfucker had already reflected a lot of people at me. The Flags, the Sheep, Murase, even N. That’s how it got close enough to me to grab me and drag me under in the first place. So if you’re embarrassed of breaking down or some shit, you shouldn’t be. I did too.”
“It’s not that,” Dazai muttered, his eyes darting away across the dark ocean waters once again.
“Then what?” Chuuya prompted impatiently, leaning closer.
“I froze,” Dazai said, his lips twisting in disgust. “Under the slightest amount of pressure, I broke. You could have died, just because I couldn’t bring myself to fire at a poor imitation of my friend.”
Chuuya blinked. “What’s wrong with that? I broke too. And you were there to pull me out of the water. I saved you, and you saved me. That’s what partners are for, right?”
That finally got Dazai to face him, whipping around so quickly it must have hurt his neck. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in surprise.
Chuuya knew why. It had been years since he had called Dazai his partner.
All too aware that his cheeks were beginning to heat, Chuuya reached out to pull the infuriating man into his arms, tucking Dazai’s head against his shoulder. “Not a word,” he growled, squeezing Dazai tightly in warning. “Make fun of me for this and I’m kicking you into the ocean.”
Dazai let out a choked noise, and suddenly he was clinging to Chuuya just as tight, his fingers practically clawing into his back.
He was shaking again. Or maybe they both were.
“It—it had been so long since I heard his voice,” Dazai cried against Chuuya’s neck, muffled and damp on his skin. “I don’t want that to be how I remember him, I don’t, I hate it…”
Chuuya closed his eyes and saw Albatross laying on the ground in pieces, staring up at him in betrayal. He let out a slow, careful breath, and held Dazai closer.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know. I get it.”
Dazai was still so warm. And Chuuya’s hands were still so terribly cold.
Making a reckless decision, Chuuya pulled off his soaked gloves and tossed them aside, then sunk his fingers into Dazai’s mess of curls without hesitation. He felt more than heard the sharp inhale against his neck, and the quiet questioning hum that followed. Chuuya ignored it and continued to card his fingers through Dazai’s hair.
“…Chuuya?” Dazai breathed.
Chuuya tugged absently at a knot. “Tangled,” he grunted. “It was bothering me.”
“Mm,” Dazai hummed, and his hands slid up the back of Chuuya’s jacket. “Chuuya’s cold.”
“No shit,” Chuuya said grumpily. “I fell in the fucking ocean, and it’s freezing out here.”
There was a soft laugh, then a strange sensation ghosted across the side of Chuuya’s neck just above his choker, almost like a pair of lips had pressed there. Chuuya’s hands tightened in Dazai’s hair, stiffening in surprise. He could only wonder if he had imagined it, unable to comprehend any other possibility.
He certainly didn’t imagine what Dazai said next, however.
“Come home with me,” Dazai whispered, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s skin once again.
Chuuya made a very strange noise, somewhere between a shriek and a gasp, and used his grip on Dazai’s hair to haul him away just enough for their eyes to meet. “The fuck?” he spluttered, face burning. “What do you mean, where did that — hah?”
Dazai’s eyes were rimmed in red, dulled with weariness. One of his hands wandered up to Chuuya’s cheek and rested there, circling the blush with his thumb. “I don’t want you out of my sight right now,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”
Ah. Right. The reflection of Corruption.
Well. Chuuya couldn’t really deny that he wasn’t looking forward to a night spent alone in his own apartment. He might not dream, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t even get to sleep. Having someone beside him might help.
And beyond all that—this was the first time that Dazai had ever asked Chuuya to stay with him.
So, dazed and still a little flushed, Chuuya abandoned all common sense and replied, “Okay.”
Dazai captured one of Chuuya’s hands between his own, and brought it to his lips to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “Good,” he murmured, and pulled Chuuya to his feet. A slight smile flitted across his features. “I think I spotted Chuuya’s dreadful hat further towards the shore. Shall we find it first?”
Chuuya’s knuckles were still tingling. “Okay,” he repeated, strangled and utterly bewildered. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles like a pack of confused terriers, but he allowed Dazai to tow him away towards the lights of the city.
And if Chuuya’s fingers ended up intertwined with Dazai’s as they traversed the shadows…well.
The streets were too dark for anyone to prove it.
“…Wait, is there even room at your place? You’re still living in that shitty dorm, aren’t you?”
A familiar grin and a pair of twinkling eyes turned back to him as they passed through a dimly lit alley. “Hmm? Chuuya has been tracking where I live? How sentimental of you, slug.”
At least he’s getting back to normal, Chuuya thought. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled aloud. “Of course I’d keep an eye on your annoying ass.”
A scandalized, yet delighted gasp. “Chuuya likes looking at my ass?”
“…?! Shut up! That is not what I said—!”
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stil-lindigo · 1 year
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the machine.
a comic about being a 'creator' online.
creative notes:
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mimimar · 15 days
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finally completed my comic based on the song ivy by taylor swift!✿ please zoom in to read the text and see the details~
✿.✿.✿
you can get the digital zine pdf here! it includes extras like character profiles, costume design, more art of willow and ivy, zine-exclusive sketches and an illustrated guide to the symbolism of all the flowers in this comic.
you can also get prints of individual pages here!
✿.✿.✿
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civetside · 8 months
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im very busy and working on like 7 things at once but here i am still drawing them for my warm ups
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kbsd · 19 days
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when a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes
OR: what were we supposed to take away from episode 3 if not ‘bucky is a war widow’
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