#LMAO I CANT KEEP UP

[strawdool]

god

[koipepo]

That omake of little Kabru not being able to show off his howetown sweets because of Misril gets to me a lot so...

Here's a happier Kabru (and Lairu)

[sculien]

Amanda Rollins & Sonny Carisi Law & Order SVU 26.03

[0vergrowngraveyard]

"tails" takes an L

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[hexitca-art]

Nero: "I don't care who fucking started it first, STOP STABBING EACH OTHER IN PUBLIC! IT SCARES PEOPLE!"

Another pose/environment study, these are so fun. I was messing around with the lights/darks again but messed around with blending, idk if I like that way but this is why I'm doing it, kinda playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't (and putting Nero in cute crop tops lol)

Reference:

[cloudyydraws]

did the evil art style challenge with the kagamines!!

+brainstorming and sketches under cut

sorry oomf i ignored the "dont draw women" rule i couldnt resist

friends also regulated me to plain black lineart with no variety :(((( RIP FOR THE SKETCH I LIKED IT A LOT

[puppyeared]

i like him

[ef-1]

Your post breaking down Red Bull's inconsistent narrative having thousands of upvotes on reddit and thousands of likes on twitter and then @/Romanianf1 on insta also posted it 💀 I said mother but I also said damn the state of f1 journalism is so sorry, we have to do their work for them

I'm so glad you've mothered for us once again but this whole thing made me forget the tumblr not showing follower counts lulls me into a false sense of security about the size of this community because some of y'all be playing with the big dawgs on here 🤼🏾‍♀️🔥

[nullapophenia]

hello

[gunsatthaphan]

"do you believe me now?"

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[solargeist]

slapping teh part of my brain that keeps thinking of the Watchers during this mcc

[faaarawayyy]

rotates him with my mind!!!!

[honeyhotteok]

hii may i ask for a gun x reader fic, where we just utterly despite our delinquent gun as a normal student, yet he loves us? like, he never makes it obvious but we just hate him, his attitude, his behavior etc, since he always interfere in bloody stuff which we r scared of.. love ya<3

hi anon! thank u for sending in this ask!! tbh writing for gun is a struggle for me but i tried lol also hope u don't mind i went in a slightly different direction with your idea🥹🫶

strawberry milk & cigarettes (gun park x reader)

summary: gun meets gian high school's #1 student.

--

"Yamazaki Yuzuru, to the principal's office. Now."

The class erupts into hushed whispers about the summoned new kid - a delinquent rumored to be making his way throughout Japan in order to study different martial arts, a fighting prodigy of sorts.

Gun stands up and makes his way to the classroom door. A turn of his head paired with a cold glare shuts everyone up, leaving a few of your classmates shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

Meanwhile, you're sat there tuning all of this out, head buried in your notebook. Devoting 100% of your concentration to rewriting your notes from the previous class.

Gun is on his way to walking past your desk, but stops in front of it when something catches his attention.

He looks down at your notebook, the pages inscribed with perfectly straight lines of neat handwriting coupled with color-coordinated evenly highlighted blocks. The layers of organization, the penmanship - it's impressive, really.

You feel a pair of eyes on you and notice an inked forearm in front of you peeking through the rolled up black sleeve of his gakuran jacket. Ugh. Great. Another disruptive thug attending this institution, another potential obstacle to your simple goal of pursuing an education.

You finally slowly raise your head to look up at him, unsure why this weirdo is staring at you.

"Can I help y-"

Gun smirks and turns around before your eyes even meet his, walking off before you can finish your sentence.

Leaving you appalled at his complete lack of manners, but with nothing to do but return to your meticulous notes task.

-

"Okay, everyone, pass your homework up to the front."

You turn to the seat behind you to take Gun's paper and you catch a glimpse of the bottom of his sleeve, still bloodied from the fight he just had before class. Your face scrunches up in disgust.

You glance down at his paper and the absolutely illegible chicken scratch scrawled onto it. You can't help but grimace. "What's wrong with your handwriting?"

"Why is it any of your business?"

You scoff at his reply. "Rude bastard," you mutter under your breath.

He leans forward in his seat, a strand of his slicked back black hair falling in front of his face. "What did you just say?"

You're not sure what it is - maybe it's the irritability from lack of sleep, or the academic stress you've been experiencing tenfold this week, or the fact that this new punk's mere existence in your space is starting to get on your nerves. Maybe it's all of the above.

You whip your head back around to face him. "I called you a rude bastard."

He gives you an unreadable stare. The class suddenly falls silent. Shit, maybe you said that a little bit louder than you had intended.

You turn back around in your seat and pass the stack of papers up, both annoyance and embarrassment coursing through you.

Gun's lips curl into an amused smile at the first words anyone at this school has dared utter to his face while looking him in the eye.

-

You walk over to the vending machine down the hall during break time, already fishing for your wallet in anticipation.

Your friend catches up to you and nudges you with her elbow.

"What was that?! You just insulted an actual member of the Yamazaki family!" She says in a hushed voice.

You stare blankly at your friend. "The who?"

"Yamazaki family, of the Yakuza."

You pause. "Wait, he's an actual kid of a Yakuza family? I thought he was just a random pathetic teenage thug nobody..." you mumble. Huh. Maybe it would've served you to not have insulted someone with the ties to actually kill you and get away with it.

You glance at your watch with a wave of your hand. "You know what, I don't have time for this. I'm gonna get my strawberry milk and go study."

You frown as your eyes settle on the empty spiral behind the vending machine window before you. "Aw, they're all out."

Your friend suggests you just buy one of the other drinks instead, but you sigh and tell her to forget it.

Gun, who totally hasn't been trailing a few steps behind you or anything, turns on his heel and beckons one of his new lackeys over.

He opens his mouth, then pauses. "Nevermind, I'll do it myself."

...

Gun's eyes flit between the similar looking white and pink cans of Sangaria Strawberry Milk and Suntory Strawberry Milk sitting on the convenience store refrigerator shelf.

"Dammit, why are there so many strawberry milk brands," he mutters to himself.

He quickly snatches both of them and walks over to the register to pay.

He jogs across the street back to school. He tries to discreetly leave both cans on your desk before the rest of the class trickles back in as break time comes to an end.

You cautiously pick up one of the cans of strawberry milk sitting on your desk, glancing around the room. Uh, what the... Did someone leave these for you?

You lift and inspect the can. "Do you think this could be poisoned?"

Your friend rolls her eyes. "It's a sealed can. Maybe you just have a secret admirer," she says with a grin and nudge.

It's your turn to roll your eyes at her. You shrug and pop open the can. Your spirits instantly lift after your first sip of the creamy fruity beverage.

Gun watches from his desk with his cheek resting in his palm. A faint, extremely weird unfamiliar feeling beginning to stir in his chest.

-

Gun rests his arms on the railing of the upper section of the roof. He takes a long drag of his cigarette.

The door to the lower level of the roof swings open, and to his surprise, it's you walking in. You don't notice him since he remains out of your line of sight unless you look up.

It's been a long, long school day. After pulling another all-nighter studying last night, you're stressed out and sleep-deprived.

You know you should kick this bad habit, maybe after this exam season ends. Which is also what you told yourself last exam season, but whatever. You fumble your cardigan pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and begin to light one.

Gun raises his eyebrows then chuckles at the sight of Gian High School's perfect and pristine #1 student of all people smoking, and smoking on school grounds to top it off.

You whip your head around at the noise.

Gun immediately ducks his head under the wall thanks to his lightning-quick reflexes.

Nothing but a blank wall behind you. Huh. Maybe the sleep deprivation has you hearing shit now, too.

After enough moments pass, he slowly lifts his head and peeks over the ledge at the back of your silhouette.

He smiles and puts out his own cig, beginning to make his way back in through the stairway door. Your little secret safe with him.

[bunnihearted]

being too weird and unlikable and off putting and always being shunned and turned into an outcast everywhere i go and not having felt the connection and healing friendship has on you for so many years has really done a number on me