Tumgik
#especially writing this series
ireallyamabear · 8 months
Text
The choice to put Una Chin-Reily on a Starfleet recruitment poster in the late 2370s seems a nod to the extraordinary person she is and her exemplary service, but Boimler’s enthusiasm for her as a personal hero cannot mask the fact of what Starfleet execs are really doing here: while it is Starfleet tradition to honour esteemed personnel from its centuries of history, we have to look at the poster as a product of its time: it seems clear that, shortly after the devastating death toll and the rapid militarisation of the Dominion War, putting a prominent figure of the Great Exploration Age - and notedly someone who had not served in the Klingon War - as the poster person for Starfleet is an indictment that contemporary young people of the Federation are not drawn to the service as it is in their time anymore.
Critically, Starfleet has to use somebody from a 120 years ago, a timeframe that would lap generations of even especially long lived member species like Vulcans or Denobulans, to attract new recruits. Boimler says himself that seeing Una as a representative and her motto - “Ad astra per aspera” was: “Uh, it was a really big reason why I joined.” Clearly there is a wealth of recognisable Starfleet officers from 2370 and onwards, but their entanglement in the Dominion War, or at least in the Borg threat makes them unsuitable as role models for people like Boimler who cannot help but associate these contemporaries with the horrors of war and intergalactic conflict. Thus, the retreat to a “safe” historical narrative, with Starfleet still being about peaceful exploration reflects the growing divide between the realities of a colonised galaxy, the ongoing need of new bodies to fill the posts on all those ships and space stations and the aspirations and values of young people today. In this essay I will question whether Starfleet can keep its promise of scientific integrity in the face of growing political unrest in the UFP and ask what “Number One” herself would have thought about-
1K notes · View notes
alicenpai · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
screw it rise up if breaking bad better call saul is your favourite anime ever grab the stickers here if ya like!! in my shop until oct 17🧪⚗⚖
416 notes · View notes
stil-lindigo · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the dredger.
a comic about closure.
(buy the digital copy of the comic anthology here)
creative notes:
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
beif0ngs · 1 month
Text
at this point, i'm just in awe at how they f*cked up a live action adaptation of ATLA twice... TWICE 🤦
338 notes · View notes
liesmyth · 5 months
Note
would you be able to give examples/explain more about how race only impacts gideon in the tlt-universe? not being facetious or condescending, genuinely asking. thank you!
Hi anon! If you mean my tags to this post, I wrote
#earth conception of race doesn't impact any character in the series except the canonically brown main antagonist
By which I mean my Worstie and main antagonist of the series, John Gaius (PhD).
I don’t think TLT as a series engages with race in any especially meaningful ways. It’s set in a post-Earth society with entirely different social norms, and there’s no concept of race and ethnicity within the population of the Nine Houses. Physical descriptions of the characters are scarce to say the least, and they rarely spell out the kind of features that suggest specific racial connotations, because the POV characters don’t seem to think it’s something worth remarking upon. iirc, it takes until halfway through HtN for the narrative to confirm that Harrow has brown skin.
[See also Tamsyn’s GtN characters description post. It quotes passages from the book, and you can see how minimal the descriptions are, and she repeats several times that her characters’ appearances are up to the readers’ interpretations. It just doesn’t seem to be a big concern of hers]
Then there’s John, who grew up in twenty-first-century New Zealand and IS explicitly Māori in a way that absolutely impacted his character arc. It's not A major theme of his Nona chapters, but it’s there if you read between the lines. The boarding school he went to, which IRL had a high percentage of low-income Māori students on scholarship. The depth of his climate anxiety, his uncompromising “Nobody left behind” stance before the cryo project was halted, and his fervent hatred of ‘the trillionaires’ afterwards... these are all informed to some extent by his background as an indigenous man imo, and so was the global reaction to his developing powers. The “We were going to put you fellas in jail, weren’t we?” the way his initial attempts at publications are all flat-out ignored by the scientific community and dismissed as culty gimmicky faith healing until he leans into it.
John being Māori is just one of the many pieces of his backstory, and far from the most impactful to what eventually went down, but my point remains that he is the ONLY character in TLT whose racial background 1) affects his story arc and 2) is relatable to the audience. Everyone else is ten thousand years removed from Earth, and I’m just not very interested in using racial identifiers when exploring these characters and their dynamics, because the characters themselves don’t care and neither does the narrative.
348 notes · View notes
hungharrington · 11 months
Note
Your last ask’s tag shfjfkdk BYEEEE. Giving Steve a handjob in the theatre, (bonus points if it’s a super fancy one byeeeee)
ALSO giving him a handy whilst staying at your parents’ house for the holidays because you both know you are way too loud to do anything else discreetly. He’s such a good boyfriend, and he really is acting like the model son in law, but you just want to ruin him ❤️😮‍💨 kissing his face, cooing at him, lifting your top and bouncing your boobs around his face, just doing the most so that he’ll whine
you 🤝 me  obsessed with giving steve a handy in places you absolutely shouldn’t hehe
at your parents house oh my god yes - and look, steve’s known to be respectable enough around town, with his parents name and all that, he really shouldn’t be too worried but it’s undeniable how sweet it is that he is worried :) he just wants this weekend away with your parents to go well, okay? he’s been forbidden to date a girl once before and while you’re certainly worth the scraped hands from sneaking in windows, steve’s not sure his knees can handle it— so, yeah, he wants this weekend to go as swimmingly as it can. you, however, are feeling devious. you’re not outright with it, you know better than to do that especially around your parents but you certainly are pulling out the stops that you know drive steve mad — like those sweet short summer dresses he drools over every time, but forgoing a bra of any sort this time. it’s a lethal combination and you know it. best of all, is the like unspoken ban on sex between the two of you; even if your parents were trusting enough to put you in the same room, it’s only because they share a wall with it, meaning unless you figure out how to bounce on his cock without wrecking your vocal chords, sex is out the window
steve knows this- so really, he should be anticipating a little bit of tomfoolery from you — but it doesn’t cross his mind when you come and meet him out by pool. in fact, nothing crosses his mind at all when he see you in the sundress, rucked up in your hands, showing off a dangerous amount of thigh as you wind around the pool loungers to his. you smile down at him, shirtless and stretched out to soak up some sun. “budge up,” you say, knees leaning into the cushion and steve obeys without a word, scooching over so you get sit beside him— there’s not quite enough room for two people so you end pressed against him, head leaning against his shoulder as your hand comes to rest on his chest. steve curls his arm around you with a content hum, keeping a generous distance from anything too touchy — his hand firmly on your shoulder. 
“what are you up to, hm?” he asks, pushing his sunglasses up atop his head. your fingers start to stroke lightly, soft touches along his chest as you think about your reply. “just missed you,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder. your hand on his chest shifts a bit, swirling little patterns down across his tummy, which tenses for a moment beneath you. “miss touching you,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to his skin, adoring the way steve’s sucks in careful breath. his hand on your shoulder gives a light squeeze and he smiles, leaning over to brush his lips against your temple, “me too, honey,” he assures, voice low, “but we can’t—“ he swallows a bit as your hand wanders about, fingertips teasing along his v-line tantalisingly, just enough to get him interested. “your- your parents.” he reminds you, voice a bit shakier this time— his eyes are glued to your hand, muscles rippling under the skin wherever it scratches over. 
“just be quiet then,” you counter, a teasing smile toying on your lips. “and be quick.” this time, when your hand travels back down, you follow his v-line all the way down to his cock, which twitches the moment your hand nears it. steve is protesting in an instant, a little ‘wait, wait, wait’ but it dies off when you palm against his cock and shit, the couple days apart must be getting to him because just one touch is enough to have his head dropping back, giving a raspy exhale, “fuck, honey.” his hardness grows beneath your touches quickly, cock pushing up against the fabric of his shorts but he’s still got that niggling worry in the back of his mind, “baby,” he pants a bit, his hips shifting about under your touch. he doesn’t try pull your hand away, just fixes you with a pleading look, “your- your parents could…” but his sentence trails off when your hand snakes up to tug on the front of your dress, letting your tits peak out and steve full on groans, lust clouding his gaze as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. your spit in your hand and resume, slinking your hand back down his body, this time you sneak your hand into his shorts, fingers curling around his hot, leaking cock and steve stammers out another breathy moan— bringing his fist up to his mouth to try quieten himself. 
you pump his cock, starting slow, purposefully ignoring the head of it and instead starting to press more kisses into his shoulder and along his collar. steve’s breaths come a little heavier, coming out with a hint of a whine to them. you pull him out of his shorts, hidden behind your own body and greedily stare; his tip so pink and the vein down the side you always want to drag your tongue along. “missed this cock,” you hum sweetly, beginning to twist your hand, stroking him faster. steve’s tummy clenches, hips chasing your hand instinctively and when you finally thumb over his sensitive tip, steve whimpers loudly. “and your noises,” you say, almost teasingly, nosing along his collarbones and dragging your tits against his chest. “but you’re being too loud, stevie,” you pout, purposefully rubbing along his slit repeatedly in that way you know makes steve fall apart— he whines, jagged sweet little noises that accompany every harsh breath of his. “baby,” he whimpers again, pleading. “please, please, please,” 
you pick up the pace, the slick sound of your hand on his cock getting louder and louder as you try bring him to the edge. steve lets out another soft moan, his volume climbing in his desperation. “christ, fuck, honey, y’gotta- ah, y-you feel so good,” and his eyes switch between clenched tight and staring hungrily at your tits. “c’mon, baby, gotta be quiet,” you insist in a rasp, “you can be good and quiet right? or else i’ll have to…” you change your pace, slowing til you’re barely  stroking him and steve is hips buck up against you in an instant. “no!” he cries, too loud, then lowers his voice, brown eyes finding yours as he begins to plea. “no, please, i- fuck, i’ll be quiet and— oh my god, uh,” and his voice breaks off into another whine that he smothers into his fist as you work his cock faster again. steve tilts his head back, baring his throat, mouth open as another whiney warbles out, mixing with his whispered curses, “fuck, fuck, ah, fuck,” and it’s not until you speak with a tone of faux-innocence, nodding down to his cock and coo at him, “y'gonna let him cum? :( he just wants to cum, baby” and steve just falls apart, hot cum spurting from his tip and you just keep stroking him, teasing out those pathetic whimpery noises as he writhes in pleasure, all hot and bothered- he’s so noisy too, little, “thank you, ah, fuck, thank you” slipped between his moans as he fucks your hand through his orgasm, coated in his own cum. you actually consider stroking him through to another one, with his cum as lube, when there’s a faint call through the house for lunch and you just grin, releasing his cock and licking up what’s on your hand. steve’s chest is heaving, eyes still cinched shut as he tries to reel himself in — already thinking of ways to get revenge on you for making him sit through a lunch with you parents with his cum-stained shorts, especially considering you seem to enjoy his blushing face far too much 
739 notes · View notes
bevioletskies · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
my school president + prom night: live on stage ↳ อีกนิด (come closer) by ford allan
When you’re by my side, when you look into my eyes A little closer, please come a bit closer to hear my love In your heart, if there’s no one, can I be that person? A little closer, please come a bit closer to hear my love Love me, would you love me, I wonder Please tell me
587 notes · View notes
minty364 · 4 months
Text
DPXDC Prompt #95
He woke up knowing his name and his civilian name but nothing else about himself. Danny looked around to find himself locked in a room on what looked like a space station. When he figures out the mechanism that unlocked the door, for whatever reason it was set up for, he ventures out into the rest of the station. Danny finds out he’s not alone and there are several others that seemed to share the same problem.
They scoured the space station but the zeta tubes that one of them remembers doesn’t seem to be working and they keep finding things from these companies called Dalvco and Lexicorp. Danny only remembers hearing these names but Dalvco gives him a really bad feeling about what was going on here. For some reason the rest of the station was set up like a giant puzzle.
It would be interesting to leave all these red herrings that Vlad or Lex were the masterminds but reveal at the end it was really set up by Talia trying to get Danny to remember his time in the league or something by putting him in a stressful and unknown situation hopeful that it would cause enough distress that Danny would remember.
134 notes · View notes
idyllic-affections · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
MORAL INJURY — a non-romance genshin impact series. ♫
       written by aphelion &           banner by @www-brontide!!
Tumblr media
➤ SYNOPSIS :: il dottore's most respected and skilled agent—the lab assistant, [surname] [name]—has, regrettably, committed a high form of treason. after being on the run for several years, cautiously avoiding nations with high fatui activity and never once setting foot back in snezhnaya, they decide to build a new life under a new identity in a new nation—mondstadt. the flames have not yet settled, though, and their pursuer has not yet given up. a worringly life-threatening game of cat and mouse, indeed, but all [name] can do is shrug and say, "you get used to it after some time."
➤ CONTENT WARNINGS :: mild depictions of torture, blood, human experimentation, murder, kidnapping, abuse of power, dottore is his own warning fr, depictions of trauma and c-ptsd, self-hatred, survivor's guilt, etc etc.
➤ MAIN CAST :: il dottore (& some of his segments), pantalone, scaramouche, the tsaritsa, collei, aether + paimon, jean, nahida.
main cast members either appear often, are mentioned often, are relevant to the plot, or appear once but will appear again later!
➤ SUPPORTING CAST :: baizhu, beidou, tighnari, cyno, childe, krupp, elchingen.
supporting cast members either appear occasionally, are mentioned occasionally, or play their roles only once or twice and are not pivotal to the plot!
➤ UPDATE SCHEDULE :: to be honest, i update whenever i am ready to! there is no set schedule.
➤ NOTES :: as is true with all the content i create, there is no romance in this series. all relationships are strictly platonic and often familial. individual content warnings will be posted at the top of each chapter; the general content warnings on this post will be updated as time goes on and as new chapters are posted. the information in this post, particularly regarding the cast, may or may not change as i develop the story. i only have act i written/outlined; as such, nothing beyond that is set in stone.
➤ TAGLIST :: @www-brontide, @umgatochamadopercyval, @starryshinyskies, @zeldadou, @pookiebearcave, @lesanyanyas, @francisnyx. contact me through messages/asks/etc non-anonymously to be added.
Tumblr media
➤ ACT I.
i silence. ii the motherland. tbd.
➤ ACT II.
tbd.
102 notes · View notes
callileonn · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
(dmlx week day four) for the supernatural au prompt! after being taken in by his uncle following a family tragedy, dimitri mysteriously vanishes off the face of the earth. nobody is taking it seriously enough, rufus seems oddly unbothered by the loss of his only nephew, spooky happenings have begun to occur…….. and felix is gonna get to the bottom of all of it :-) ft weird rituals found on the internet, 2010s fashion, and faerghus four (three?) scooby gang shenanigans
90 notes · View notes
sunflowerdigs · 4 months
Text
I've been thinking a lot about Mobius kind of falling apart at first while trying to live a life on the timeline. Eventually, like most people who lose someone they love, he'd get his life back together and probably go back to the TVA. But before then...I imagine things would be rocky for him (as several other people have suggested already). And I would really like to ask Owen Wilson how Mobius would feel/react to finding out that the tables had turned, and Loki was able to see every part of that time in his life the way that Mobius had been able to see all of the worst parts of Loki's life. Because while Loki needed that level of acceptance to move forward, I think Mobius would be more protective of his privacy (even knowing that, with the TVA out there, there really is no privacy). Idk. Mobius has some control issues, I think. Curious what other people think about this, though.
103 notes · View notes
moyazaika · 3 months
Note
Fake It till You Make It. (Fair series.)
“Will my darling fall in love with me?”
I looked into the dusty glass ball, staring intensely at all the scratches.
“No, but you will develop a close bond with a stray cat.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You will walk into a dark alley and find an abandoned cat and will bond with it instantly. Also be wary of Halloween decoration.”
“Ok.” He said confused but nodding and stood up from the toddler’s chair that he was squatting in, “Thank you.”
“Anytime you have an extra five bucks.”
He walked out of the cheap tent, I could see his silhouette retreating through the fabric. He put his hand on his mouth thinking about what I said.
When people are desperate, they will do stupid things, including paying money for a random person to lie to them. Either telling them what they want to hear, or what they fear. And they usually believe it because they’ll start doing what you tell them and what you say will in some way come true. That guy is probably going to leave his darling alone, leading to them never bonding and them never loving him. He will now visit dark alleyways to find a stray cat, and he will end up bonding with it because that’s what he wants to do. He’ll avoid Halloween decoration and will find a reason why he wants to. ‘Oh that thing nearly fell on me, they were right!’ ‘That thing is clearly haunted for real, I’m glad I listened to them!’.
Do I feel a little bad for scamming people on a daily basis and lying to them? Kinda. Will I continue doing it because I’m good at it and it’s how I get food on the table? Yes.
I looked at the number of people that came to me today. Seven. Seven different people that I lied to for better or for worse. I lied to an elderly woman that she would make it to her 101st birthday. I lied to a teenager that he would become one of the greatest movie stars as long as he avoided the ocean. It was clear that he had some sort of fear of water, so I fed off of that. I lied to a little girl that she was going to marry a prince, but that someone else was going to steal him away before she could marry him. I lied to a dog owner that it was going to outlive her as long as she made sure to “spiritually protect him”. What does that mean? I don’t know. What I do know is that she’s a spiritual person and that she would believe that more than telling her some other bs. You get the point.
My shift was over, so I left the tent, letting the next person working lie to people. I walked a little around the fair, getting myself a churro with the money I lied for.
The fair had a lot of things you could do. You could get scammed by people like me who lie to you and feed off your wants and fears. You could get scammed by people with mini games that look so easy so you think “why not?” and get scammed out of more money trying to win a mini game out of pride than you would have spent if you had just bought the stuffed animal prize at a store. And if you are on a date that’s double the number of times you’re going to try because you want to impress your date, and don’t want to look lame or like a loser.
You could pay money to go into the horror house full of weirdos that I’m half sure haven’t actually committed a brutal crime, and I’m pretty sure won’t harm you.
You could pay to go on the “match-making” Faris wheel where you’ll be paired up with a random person in the line (no you can’t go with your date, partner, or friend) that you’ll be with in a small space, completely alone for a couple of minutes. And depending on how the staff is feeling, the ride will temporarily stop due to “technical difficulties” aka. the staff wants some amusement too, so they pay attention to which two people would be the worst idea to put together in a closed room and leave them at the top of the ride for a couple of minutes. That worst pair could be two people that hate each other, one normal person and one “unique” person, person who isn’t comfortable with stranger plus person who is too comfortable, etc.
And many other ways to get scammed, betrayed, or traumatized. What a wonderful place to work.
I bumped into someone while eating my churro.
“Oh sorry!”
“It’s fine, could I interest you in something?” the guy asked, looking clearly pleased with the situation.
How wonderful, even when you bump into someone they’re going to scam you. Bet you the rest of my churro that’s he’s going to try and scam me with some sort of object.
“No, sorry.”
“Just take a look,” He pulled out a seashell necklace from his pocket, “this is a good luck charm! It will give you ten straight years of good luck!”
I won. The churro is mine.
“No, sorry, but thank you.”
I knew he was pulling my leg, but I did the same thing to other people, so I stayed polite, I understood.
I started walking away, knowing that he was going to keep trying until he couldn't see me anymore.
“You work at that fortune telling tent, right?” he rushed in front of me, blocking my way. There weren’t many people left in the fair because it was close to closing time (3am or so), and the people that were there didn’t care or didn’t care to notice that a guy was scamming someone. Though in reality it doesn’t matter if you go there in the day or not, people won’t care. Welcome to the fair.
“Do you want to book an appointment with me tomorrow, or why do you ask?”
“You can’t actually foretell someone’s future, right?”
“Of course not.”
Why would I tell the truth to a potential customer?! I can already hear my manager scream. I wasn’t going to lie to him, he scammed people, I scammed people, we had a mutual understanding of the other.
“Would you be interested in having the real deal?”
“No, I’m not, that sounds like a nightmare.” I took a bite out of my churro before sighing, “Look, dude, I know that you need money, but I’m not interested in any scam you’re going to offer me and while I do feel for you, I’m not the type of person to give into a scam out of pity, sympathy, or empathy. Try again tomorrow with someone else, I’m sure you’ll be successful.”
“Wouldn’t you make more money if you had the real deal? You could even foresee your own problems before they even happen!”
“Wonderful. I can plan my schedule ahead of time. On today’s schedule is scam people, get scammed, when life gives you lemons cry, and be prepared for whatever nonsense life is going to throw at me today. Now please get out of my way.”
“I’m going to give you the real deal as a free trial! Completely free, not the usual free* that I offer people! You get a complete one, no, TWO-week free trial, and when you realize that the real deal is amazing, you can come back to me, you’ll foresee where I am, and you’ll only have to pay twenty-five dollars for it as a one-time payment!”
“Not interesting!”  I shoved him out of the way, and made it in the sight of the security, who would TOTALLY help me if this desperate guy kept trying to sell me more bs…if they felt like it.
He didn’t follow me, as far as I could tell while looking forward. I wasn’t going to look back and give him the idea that I was considering.
I made it home safely and knocked out on my bed, sleeping until one hour before my shift starts. The way to work is 10 minutes by car, 15 minutes walking. So, I have a little more than half an hour to get out the door and start scamming people. I don’t have to be a fortune teller to know that my poor time management is going to bite me in the ass someday.
*ank ank ank ank*
I shut up the alarm by slapping it and got up. Got changed into work clothes, which was loose hippy clothing mixed with whatever fabric was left over from the clown costumes made for the horror house. Brushed my teeth and made myself look presentable enough, but not completely. I think it adds to my knows-too-much fortune teller vibe. I didn’t eat anything because I was just going to eat at the fair.
I got out of my apartment, locking it behind me, and rushed to get to work. Choosing the stairs instead of the elevator.
I pushed open the door of the apartment building, choosing a quick car ride over enjoying the noon air.
I stopped.
Why did I stop?
My body didn’t move, I had feeling in all my limbs, but I didn’t want to move them. I know I was going to be late, but I didn’t want to move.
I saw a blur of beige in front of me before I heard a smash. I blinked. I blinked again. And I blinked again.
A couple feet in front of me was a smashed pot with a plant the size of a full-grown man and enough dirt to fill a bathtub.
“IS EVERYONE OK?! DID ANYONE GET HURT?! HEY, YOU, ARE YOU OKAY?!”  a lady screamed from above in one of the apartment buildings.
I walked around the plant and looked up. She was standing on one of the few balcony’s of the building, the fence around the balcony had a hole in it.
“yeah, I’m fine…”
What was I doing?
I got into the colorful tent, my coworker glared at me. He mumbled something under his breath before leaving.
I took a seat in the toddler chair and let out a heavy sigh.
Great way to start a day of scamming people. Nearly die.
It didn’t take long for a desperate or bored person to walk in. It was a random guy, brown hair, brown eyes, awkward posture, clearly either nervous or embarrassed so be here.
“Hello, would you like a reading? Five dollars.”
“Yeah…” He sat down, hugging his knees to his chest. He took out some cash and put it on the table.
“What would you like to know?”
“umm…well I have this thing I’ve been worrying about and I really just want a yes or no answer…” He was avoiding eye contact, moving his eyes around a lot, bringing them to every took and cranny of the tent.
“You just want a yes or no?”
“Yeah…” He finally looked at me.
A sudden sensation came over me. My vision shifted and I was looking at two things at the same time, my vision being split. As if one eye was seeing one thing, the other something else. In my left eye I was still seeing him, nervously playing with his fingers, on the other side it almost “zoomed in” I guess…I don’t know what I was seeing. I was seeing images, and feelings, and places, and things I understand but can’t describe. I saw what he was talking about and I saw what would happen.
He was in a relationship with someone and he wanted to break up but he didn’t know if it was a smart idea. The girl he was dating was clearly toxic but he felt an obligation to stay and fix her since he’s know her since they were five. I saw an image of them playing with dolls at a park. Her moods would constantly change from one extreme to another and he was very unhappy in the relationship. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings so he hoped that maybe if he said that he consulted a “psychic” she might be less angry at him since he didn’t make the decision. If he decided to stay with her he would be unhappy for a very long time until she would eventually break it off with him. If he decided to leave they would get into a fight and wouldn’t talk for a long time, but, an image of an apologetic woman appeared in my vision, but there would be a good chance that she would see what she did wrong and would turn around and they would finally be in a healthy friendship.
My vision turned back to normal, and I was left there blinking.
“Well?” His eyes kept moving in a way as if trying to look behind him without moving his head. He really wanted to leave but he wanted my opinion.
Words came out of me fast.
“You shouldn’t feel obligated to be in a relationship with someone just because you’ve known them your entire life. It’s clear that you still care for her, despite her behavior, but you don’t have romantic feelings for her. I would suggest breaking up with her and telling her calmly but firmly why. That you don’t have, nor ever had, romantic feelings for her and that you want to, at least for the time being, break up with her romantically and platonically because of her behavior over the last couple of years. Saying that if she plans on keeping a friendship with you she should change her behavior otherwise you’ll cut her off for good. So, yes, my answer is yes.”
His face could have been on the cover of a horror movie. A look of realization, fear, amazement, and a look that says I want to run. And he also looked strangely happy.
He opened his mouth a couple of times as if to speak but instead looked like a fish before looking down, nodding, and leaving quickly.
What.
What?
WHAT?!
If he looked like a fish gasping for air I looked like a blue whale opening it’s mouth.
///
“I’m going to give you the real deal as a free trial! Completely free, not the usual free* that I offer people! You get a complete one, no, TWO-week free trial, and when you realize that the real deal is amazing, you can come back to me, you’ll foresee where I am, and you’ll only have to pay twenty-five dollars for it as a one-time payment!”
///
…SON OF A BI-!
-✨🥐Anon (Sorry for any typos! This is the first part of the Fair series!✨One of the best places on earth that can put a smile on your face (just don't look into the employee only areas).)
One of my favorite things to do on a weekend is to go to a fair, or wherever there is a fortune teller at the time, and lie to them.
What’s your star sign? I’m a leo!
Am I a leo? No. but am I going to act like one of the most extroverted, full of myself people you have ever met? ABSOLUTELY.
When I go to a fortune teller, I’m not paying them to lie to me. I’m paying them to listen to me tell them some of the juiciest made up tea about my life so that they get so invested in it that they forget that their supposed to be working. Or get so sick of me telling them about it that they quit their job.
I don’t have a boyfriend, never have. But when I go to a fortune teller? Boi, I’ve been in a relationship with this guy named Chad for the last three years, and I just found out that he’s been cheating on me with his twice removed cousin and I’m here to ask you whether or not she’s going to get pregnant. He’s cheated on me before with my best friend but I also cheated on him with her as well so I consider us even. Since he’s been cheating on me consistently with his cousin I’m wondering whether or not I should find another person to cheat on him with as well. Where should I go to find that person, if I should do so in the first place? Should I ask a random person, should I make a dating profile specifically for it, or what? Or should I go full circle and cheat on him with his twice removed cousin that he’s been cheating on me with? She is very pretty.
I’ve never been in any type of drama in my life, but as soon as I sit in that toddler looking chair they have in that tent, I’ve been in drama none stop since middle school. One of my classmates in high school set the school on fire, another one was sleeping with our teacher and I caught them without their knowledge, my history teacher was with my English teacher, but the English teacher was cheating on her with the science teacher, but she was married to the principal! Later in the year when they all found out about this, they discovered that they English teacher and science teacher had actually been married first but that they both agreed to get married to other people. So they were the original couple and then got other people involved and cheated on them. And don’t even get me started on what my ex bff did in middle school. And the reason I bring this all up? Some of the kids from my high school want to reconnect and I’m not sure whether or not I should, so I need to give you all the context so you can make the best prediction you can on what I should do.
Getting into the toddler chair I had already prepared a new story to tell to whoever was working today. If it’s someone I already know than I’ll work off of what we talked about last, if it’s someone new, I got a whole new problem to tell them about and give me their wonderful advice.
A person I didn’t recognize walked in, clearly bothered by something, and sat down across from me.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, so what did you want to know?” they asked. Wide eyed looking at me.
“Well you see I’m in this drama with this boyfriend of mine named Jack, I started dating him two weeks ago after breaking up with my boyfriend of three years and things haven’t been going well. He keeps asking about where I’ve been constantly, questioning the friends that I have, and texting me around 100 messages a day. I don’t know whether this just comes from his last partner cheating on him and this will go away with time when he grows more confident in our relationship or if this will stay the same or get worse. Should I break up with him or talk with him? I even brought a necklace that he usually wears with me to see if you think his aura or energy is good.” I put the plastic beaded necklace on the table, I didn’t know any Jack and this was just a random necklace I found in a drawer I had.
They looked at me closely for a moment and then at the necklace, not moving to touch it or anything.
“I’m going to say this very bluntly,” they started, “I know you’re lying to me. You aren’t dating a guy named Jack, you aren’t dating anyone, and you didn’t have a boyfriend of three years. That necklace you have is your own.”
They leaned a little forward on the table.
“You see this as a funny little activity to spend your money on because you have nothing better to do on the weekends that gives you half as many laughs as this usually does. I won’t judge you for how you spend your time but I prefer not wasting mine. So, we can either cut it here, or I’ll start actually doing my job.”
…I laughed.
“I guess my acting wasn’t that believable, huh? Sure, why not, tell me my fortune oh wise one.”
They didn’t seem to find my sarcasm funny.
“Ok, then. A man is going to approach you today or tomorrow depending on what you do, he’s a you-know-what, he’s going to get charmed by you almost instantly and become obsessed with you. You can try to avoid him, but he’s going to feel a certain pull to whatever locations you frequent in the next 37 hours and will find you. He’s going to be wearing a black t-shirt with some sort of white design on it. Think rock band. He wears silver jewelry and is tall. When he approaches you, the first thing he’s going to say is “Hey there, Cutie!”. His intentions won’t be “bad”, but we both understand what his intentions will be since he’s a you-know-what. You’ll probably be able to avoid him a little longer if you avoid public places. He has green eyes and has a scar on his right forearm.”
“yeah, sure.”
“ I know you don’t believe me, I wouldn’t either, but a friendly bit of advice, make sure you lock your doors properly from now on, you forgot to this morning, and keep tabs on anything that goes missing. You’ll probably find them at his house.”
I got up.
“Thank you so much, I’ll be sure to listen to everything you have told me” I put a hand on my chest and plastered a gentle smile on my lips, faking gratitude, and left.
That was a waste of five bucks. I didn’t even get to get my full lie out.
I wasn’t going to listen to whatever that person told me. I decided to walk around in very public places and go to as many stores as possible to “higher my chances” of finding this guy. And I was right, at the end of the day, I didn’t find anyone. Who could have thought?
I called it a night and went home. My legs hurt from all the walking, and I opened the door. It wasn’t locked. I didn’t lock it this morning like the weirdo said, but a lot of people forget to lock their doors so I didn’t sweat it. I got in and called it a night. I woke up the next morning, and surprise surprise, the guy who was supposed to find me still didn’t find me. I wasn’t kidnapped nor did I have the feeling that someone was watching me. Guess I’m better at predicting the future than they are.
I decided to go to the fair again, I would try the fortune telling thing again, but try to get a different fortune teller this time. The one from the day before wasn’t any fun. I was also craving a churro and turkey leg.
I got changed and went into the kitchen, getting my car keys and wallet. Checking that I had my phone in my pocket, and that I wasn’t forgetting anything.
I forgot to turn off the light upstairs.
I put down my keys, wallet, and phone on the kitchen counter and went back upstairs. I turned off the light in the bathroom and turned around to go back downstairs.
“Hey there Cutie!”
“Son of a-!” I jumped back screaming. I tripped out of shock and fell on my ass onto the carpet.
“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s just me! You forgot to lock your door last night! You should really remember to do that.” He laughed squatting down in front of me, smiling. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a white design of some sort of rock band. He was resting his arms on his knees showing off his silver bracelet on one arm and his scar on the other. He was staring at me closely, he had green eyes.
“Stop looking so scared, it’s just me! I’m not a serial killer, calm down.” He chuckled, “ I saw you at the book store yesterday and wanted to talk to you but you kept walking away. I followed you home and waited until you got a good nights rest before talking to you!”
He reached his hand out to shake.
“My name’s Liam! It’s nice to meet you!”
Fuck.
-
“You and you, you’ll be sitting together.” A staff member pointed at me and a random girl. We got out of line and walked onto the little staircase to get on the ride. I gave a few side glances to get an idea on who I was going to be sitting next to.
I was holding my camera tightly in my hand. I had been on the Farris wheel a few times before so I knew it had a wonderful view at night with all the colorful lights around the fair below perfectly contrasting the black and white colors of the night sky.
The girl next to me was blonde wearing a cute goth outfit. It was a short black frilly dress with some white skull accessories and some metal chains as well. She had some mesh fingerless gloves and a chocker. She had her hair half up in pigtails. She had some thick boots with buckles on them, based on looking at them they looked like they weighed four pounds each. She was smiling, slightly swaying from side to side, impatient.
“Next.”
We went into the little room and sat down opposite from each other. The staff member closed the door behind us making sure it was locked and then we started moving. I firmly kept my eyes outside, holding my camera in both hands and started recording the view. I made sure that the camera was not recording the girl even a little bit and was only recording the beautiful view.
“Do you always record when you go on a ride?” She asked in a soft but high voice.
I hummed and slightly shrugged my shoulders.
We were about halfway up and the night sky started coming into the view of the camera better.
“Have you been on here before?”
I hummed again.
We had made it to the top, the view was perfect. The lights below bright enough where you could clearly see them on screen but not too bright where they blinded the camera so you couldn’t see the stars. The sky had barely an clouds in it, leaving the starts and moon open for all eyes to see.
I lunged forward slightly, we stopped. We had reached the very top of the ride and we had stopped. Some of the people from the other little rooms started complaining but were silenced by a staff member talking over an old microphone.
“HELLO EVERYONE, WE HAVE A SMALL TECHNICAL DIFFICULTY THAT WILL BE SOLVED SHORTLY. PLEASE STAY IN YOUR SEATS.”
I put the camera back into my lap. The camera was a heavier camera, more bulky in design, so my arms had gotten tired from holding it so still for so long. I kept it recording.
“You’re cute you know that?”
She was sitting with her elbows on her knees, head in her hands and tilting her head to the side. Eyes wide looking at me.
“Thanks.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
I really wasn’t liking where this conversation was going.
“Yes.”
I lied.
“What’s her name?”
“That’s private.”
“What does she look like?”
“That’s private.”
“Is she prettier than me?”
“That’s private.”
“Is she cuter than me?”
“That’s private.”
“Are you interested in having a second girlfriend?”
“No,”
“Would you be willing to dump her for me?”
“No.”
“If you didn’t have a girlfriend would you date me?”
“No.”
“Why not?” she whined.
“That’s private.”
“Am I not your type? Are you more into pastels or colorful colors?”
“That’s private.”
“If you didn’t have a girlfriend and I wore different types of clothes would you date me?”
“No.”
How long was this technical difficulty taking?
“Why notttt?”
I kept my eyes on the view outside.
“Do you plan on marrying her?”
“That’s private.”
“What’s your favorite color?
“That’s private.”
“Why so mysterious? I just want to get to know youuuu! If I can’t learn more about you on a date can’t you at least answer a few questions?”
Dear staff members, please hurry up and have pity on my soul.
“This is taking a little long, do you want to play rock paper scissors?” she switched from her position and moved her hands in front of her in the starting position of rock paper scissors, a closed fist on top of an open palm.
“Come on please? I’ll stop asking you questions!”
I looked back at her and let go of the camera, letting it rest on my lap freely, and mirrored her hands. I didn’t have anything better to do to be fair.
“Yay! Ok, rock paper scissors shoot!”
She had scissors, I had scissors. Tie.
“Rock paper scissors shoot!”
She had rock I had paper. I tapped my open palm onto her fist.
“Wow your hands feel really nice!” she giggled, “Rock paper scissors shoot!”
I had scissors she had paper.
“Rock paper scissors shoot!”
I had rock she had paper.
“Yay I won!” she eagerly covered my fist with her hand. She didn’t let go. “You’re hands are really nice to touch, you’re girlfriend in really lucky to have a cutie like you dating her.”
I moved my fist back out of her grip.
“Rock paper scissor shoot.” I said.
I had scissors she had rock.
She playful hit the top of my scissors with her rock, giggling.
“I win again!”
I lunged forward slightly, I grabbed onto the camera in my lap, the ride had finally started to move again.
“Aww, I was hoping we could play a little longer!”
I was silently very happy that this interaction would soon be over.
Our little room finally made it back to the bottom of the ride and I quickly made my way down the little stairs and out of the ride area. I could have sworn I saw some of the staff members smiling as I walked past.
I heard the girl’s voice from behind me, giggling loudly.
“See you later!”
90 notes · View notes
dudeyuri · 4 months
Text
i know I’m not alone in this but my favorite thing mhok did this episode, out of all the sweet things he did, was urge day out of his comfort zone to set a plan with august. it spoke volumes about his character and about his relationship with day. it was just such a refreshing turn of events (that led to a cute practice date sequence)
this ep set up mhokday v. augustday in a way I can really only call “juicy” lmao. day makes excuses for and takes on the onus of talking august down from his flighty and flaky tendencies; mhok is day’s anchor, in a myriad of ways, and when he wasn’t there for day during that scene in the markets, it was of course in no way positioned as day’s responsibility. day had to strive to earn august’s acceptance; mhok’s acceptance has been unconditional even if it took some trial and error for him to understand day (I think their relationship is built on a deepening understanding of each other, fostering this two-way acceptance). day and august were assigned to each other; day chose mhok and mhok chose day. august surreptitiously walks away from day’s feelings; mhok shoulders them despite his own.
we’re shown right off the bat in ep5 that august and day’s relationship strikes something like jealousy in mhok. but this is a grown ass man with a caretaking job. even as he blurs the line between caretaker and suitor he remembers his place—his place as day’s friend and phi even more than as his caretaker imo. above all else he wants to help day push past self-isolating tendencies (look at all the friends who love day! he’s not meant to be holed up in his room!)(and I mean, this is personal for him! not just as someone with feelings for day, but as someone who lived through the suicide of his sister and as someone who had been in jail before).
and the way he reacts to day’s confession of feelings for august—we see that day is not the only heartbroken one here, but mhok doesn’t let day in on that. there are more than a few things he doesn’t let day in on, in this scene lol. he didn’t even divulge the full story of rung’s tragedy (just as day only hinted at what happened between him and night). mhok is just fully present for day as day deals with his own heartbreak. whereas in august and day’s relationship as badminton partners, august’s feelings formed the center of their relationship, and he often left day scrambling just to appease him.
there’s probably some comparison to be made between mhok stepping in and setting up dinner plans for august and day, and august insisting that he will never have another badminton partner if it’s not day. it’s like love v. possessiveness. mhok has this maturity that is really compelling, makes sense with his character, and again is just soooo refreshing
mhok has made a few self-deprecating comments about lacking tenderness, a hang-up informed by his past and by his sister’s suicide, but damn if this man isn’t the paragon of devotion idk what he is. and because of all this, because we’re seeing mhok place his feelings second to caring for day, i am of course looking forward to seeing mhok’s feelings prioritized alongside day’s and his insecurities addressed as the series progresses. in conclusion, what a mensch
97 notes · View notes
xysidhequeen · 1 year
Text
No idea who needs to hear this. Because I've been writing, professionaly as my job for over a year and this only just clicked for me.
Dialogue does not have to be followed with 'X Said/Told/Yelled etc etc.' You can just move on to an action. IE: "Can't believe you did that!" X dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding a sword that flew through the air where her throat had been seconds before.
I know for many writers this isn't some grand revelation but maybe it'll cause an epiphany for someone else.
998 notes · View notes
remcadll · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Hey what was up with that one panel
79 notes · View notes
hachiibun · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
❗ 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.
Tumblr media
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).
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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?
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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?”
Tumblr media
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.”
Tumblr media
“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 —
207 notes · View notes