#hope u get well soon

[letmeliedown]

checked on the blog of an ex-friend who ghosted me in a purity panic ages ago bc they were convinced that following me would get them in legal trouble somehow. i was hoping to see that they were attempting to get out of their pocd hole but it's actually gotten worse; their blog now says 21+. don't even think of interacting unless you can legally buy alcohol in the US of A

[catiuskaa]

i’ll cuddle and make soup for u if you want to, pookie <3

*cough cough* no, me kisses.

SUMMARY: he may have lost his opportunity to ask you to become official, but boyfriend or not, there’s only one thing Hannie wants needs: your kisses. All over his face. Right now.

WC: exactly 1.3k baby!

CW: it’s too fluff!! ahhh!! (scared) lol, mentions of the usual sick thingies like headaches and mucus (ew!), mentions of lipstick stains (because YES), use of petnames.

REQUESTED! by pookie dookie @4ln-stay8 right here. I owed you one for reading my angsty fics, so I gave my best with this one. tysm for your support, my love! <3

A/N: inspired on the jeekies bc this singlehandedly changed my brain chemistry (melts n giggles)

[☆★🧣★☆]

Jisung wanted to groan.

Meanwhile, you only wanted to giggle and take millions of pictures of him.

What for? Well, first of all, little Hannie was cutely hiding under his duvet.

Only Jisung’s big boba eyes blinked repeatedly as he sniffed, not because he was crying, but because the poor little thing couldn’t even smell anything. He kept the half down of his face under the blankets of his bed, as he surely knew he was blushing due to you being in his room.

He hadn’t been expecting you, and he wanted to groan and put on a tantrum —or however you use that word in a sentence— because you had to be there at that moment.

“Aw, Sunggie,” you melted at the sight of him, holding back the need to coo and pet him and treat him the small and cute hamster he so was. “Lix called,” you clarified with a toothy grin. “He said you were sick, and buzzed me in before he left.”

Jisung made a note to himself to remember to tickle Felix to death for that.

There was one thing he wanted, and while it was you the one who could give it to him, he felt quite shy from asking, as far as refraining from doing so just yet.

Because it was not like you two were dating officially. Yes, the big, fat crush he had on you was as obvious as shit, to put it in elegant words, but he hadn’t asked you yet.

He was going to ask you, but he got sick.

And that one thing he wanted from you was your sweet pouty lips peppering kisses all over his face.

You sat next to him, and sheepishly shook your head. “Let me tidy up this place for you and bring you some medicine and more tissues, yeah?”

Your voice felt soothing, he wanted to use it as a blanket and stay wrapped in it for the rest of the week.

His heart sent more blood to his cheeks. As if there wasn’t enough, he thought with a huff, big eyes watching your movements as you picked a plate that had been left there since the night before and started picking up the used tissues from the floor.

“…hi…” Jisung mumbled, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.

Was he sick? Sure. I mean, his head hurt, his eyelids felt heavy, his nose was runny and he had surely filled the floor of his room and a decent part of his bed with used tissues.

But despite all that, the thing he wanted the most was to cuddle you to his hearts content.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you snickered softly, and he couldn’t help but smile with you. “Want some water too?”

He coughed in response, and you giggled. He cracked his knuckles underneath the bed sheet, his hands tingling, wanting to take you by your shoulders and hug you like a boa constrictor.

“Guess we have to cancel for tonight,” you mumbled with a small smile, your hand tenderly stroking his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll go leave my coat and bag in the living room and I’ll come back, yeah?”

He pouted without realizing. “Mmhhh…” he hummed with a small frown, almost like a whine.

You were about to mumble a soft ‘what’s wrong?’ before he shoved the covers away from his face as he gingerly raised his hand to grab your wrist and settled your palm back on his forehead. He sighed in small relief, melting into the coldness that lingered in you from being outside.

“Headache?” You said almost in a whisper, hearing the butterflies’ wings going crazy in your stomach.

He nodded. If he had been a cat, he would be purring, even if your hand had already turned warm against his skin.

“C’mon, Jisung-a,” your voice felt even softer than before. “I’ll come back before you know it.”

He sniffed. “…you will…?”

Your heart crushed, unable to handle how cute Han looked. It was too much, so much that even the butterflies in your stomach started to have their own butterflies in their stomachs.

And with a smile, you moved your hand to his cheek and planted a shy tender kiss on his forehead.

“I will. Pinky promise.” You chuckled softly, a blush slowly creeping up to your cheeks.

His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.

Oh, no. Now he knew what one of your small kisses felt like.

Now you couldn’t leave. Not before… oh.

He grinned slyly, making you raise your eyebrows, wondering what could he be thinking in that cute little head of his.

“…we’ll… make a deal…” he stated as firmly as he could.

You shrugged lightly, secretly enjoying the faint pink hue of your lipstick that had stained his forehead.

“Sure, Hannie.” Your smile only made the fact that you’d leave for, like, ten minutes —or God, maybe even more— feel a lot worse.

“I… want… more of those…” he blushed deeply.

“More of those?”

He took your hand and covered his eyes with it.

“I want more kisses.” He sniffed again.

Your mouth quickly formed the shape of an ‘o’, as your blush quickly turned a deeper shade of red, as if to compete against his.

You giggled, moving your hand from his face.

“You want my kisses, jagi?” You teased with a smirk.

He felt his heart going crazy in him, a tight feeling in his chest that turned his ears red.

“Aww, but aren’t you too sick for that?”

Oh, no.

You weren’t just going to give him a small kiss and then not continue all morning and all evening… right?

That couldn’t be allowed. Was it? He tsked at the thought. He had to make sure it wasn’t.

He coughed, pouting.

“No.” He coughed again. “Me. Kisses.” He sniffed. “Now.”

You laughed loudly, a sort of laugh that went right in Han’s little heart and filled it up with energy. He didn’t feel that gloomy sensation that being sick could cast over someone.

Instead, he squinted at you playfully.

“You have ten minutes, missy.” He said, already looking much better, emotionally wise at least. “Or else.”

You giggled, sheepishly pecking the corner of his lips.

"You can set up a timer, you cheeky idiot."

He moved his hand to his heart in an overly dramatic gesture that made you cackle, as he chuckled too, trying to ignore how fast his heartbeat felt under his hand.

Nine minutes and forty three seconds later —forty four, forty five...— you had settled a plastic bag next to his nightstand, had stolen a tissue box from the living room, and right now, you were smiling, walking one step in front of the other, carefully so to not spill over the soup you had made for him.

"It's amazing. You have to try it, I've outdone myself." You chuckled as he sat up on his bed, gingerly waiting. You left the tray on his crossed legs, moving his desk chair and nonchalantly taking a seat close to him.

"C'mon." You snickered. "Eat up." He finished it without a single complaint.

"Good boy." You teased, cackling loudly when you saw him blush.

"That's not fair," he mumbled with a pout.

"Scooch aside, Mr fairness."

You moved the pillows and laid next to him, shyly putting your arm below his neck, and then passed the other over his chest.

His face was practically in front of you.

"Hi." You grinned cheekily.

"...oh, h-hi." You giggled at his shyness. You hid the fact that you had reapplied your lipstick in the kitchen before bringing the soup, and started peppering soft kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth...

Oh, you were surely going to catch whatever he had.

[☆★🧣★☆]

~Kats, who doesn't understand why tumblr won't let her stack pictures when answering asks, reason why I post them separately, lol. Thanks for the request, gorgeous!

[priscirat]

yea sure man i'll post that here too

[doctorwhommm]

I hsve an idea. Could u draw rose and ianto as besties

absOLUTELY I CAN

they’re chatting shit (lovingly) about their tall, long-coat-wearing, time-travelling, death-cheating, alien boyfriends who have spikey hair

[ryonello]

i have ........... a new meowmeow fixation .........

[vanlegion]

[egoarc4de]

homecoming

[pieflavoredartz]

(CLICK FOR THAT SCRUMPCIOUS QUALLITYYY 🗣🗣)

cats love yoshikage kira 🐱‼️

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"And soda; runs off into the street..." "...and soda... is totally okay!"

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

song for the fic!!

"C'mon Pony, you know this." Darry can feel himself gettin' agitated. He wasn't meant to be a teacher. He didn't have the patience. He sighs, stands up from the table 'n runs a hand down his neck. The more frustrated he gets the antsier Pony became. Maybe they both just needed a break.

"I just don't get it!" Pony slams his pencil against the table 'n drops his head into his hands. Darry rolls his eyes, crosses over to the sink 'n tries his best to bite back on an almighty sigh. Glory, the kid was prone to dramatics.

It certainly didn't help that it was, for all accounts 'n purposes, a beautiful day. Probably the first warm one of the year. Soda 'n Steve, on a rare day off, were hangin' around the house, Two comin' to join in sometime after lunch. 'N it was clearly makin' Pony fidgety. But if the kid hadn't wanted to spend the weekend at the kitchen table, he should have done his goddamn homework last night when Darry had told him to.

Darry blows out a long breath, white knuckles the sink. The kid wasn't workin' his nerves on purpose. He was just frustrated.

The windows open 'n the kind of soft breeze they waited all winter for 'n dreaded missin' once the summer set in is whisperin' around the curtains. Soda's out in the yard, crouched down in the dirt, Steve 'n Two hoverin' over him. Steve's got his face all screwed up in disgust 'n Two's grinnin' so hard his mouth hurts. Darry sighs, some kind of longin' for bein' a kid crawlin' unpleasantly up his throat.

Pony, who'd been peekin' out at him from between his fingers, presses his palms against his eyes 'n groans. "C'mon, Dar, I'll do it later. I promise." He blinks up at Darry with big, wide eyes 'n Darry frowns at him sternly. He'd give anythin' to just let the kid rip the stupid math homework in half 'n call it a day.

"No, Pony, you said that last night. In fact, I remember you promisin' up 'n down you wouldn't bitch about it today if I let you go to the drive-in." Pony at least has the decency to look a little sheepish but he doesn't stop him from lettin' out a long, wordless whine. "C'mon, let's get it done."

Outside, Steve yowls 'n Two cackles. Both of them glance to the window again. It didn't matter how many years separated them, there's a common thread that connects them: the ache of missin' out on the first day of summer when the laughter slides under the door 'n the sun beats down onto that faded square on the wood floor 'n you'd do anythin' to throw on untied shoes 'n run out into the street, knowin' that there'd always be someone waitin' on the porch for you.

Glory, how had their parents done it?

"Look, just finish up this sheet." He wasn't as strong as their ma. 'N he would never claim to be. Pony pouts but sits up again, puttin' his pencil back to the paper. "So, if you-"

"Oh, you won't." Soda giggles from the lawn 'n Steve yowls.

"So if you-"

"Oh, I will." Someone tackles the other to the ground. A heap of freckled laughter rollin' around 'n grindin' grass stains into fresh white shirts.

"If you carry the one here-"

"I double dog dare ya!" That phrase never bode well in the Curtis gang 'n it's just enough excuse for Darry 'n Pony to blink at each other once 'n race to the front door. Pony gets there first, swingin' the screen hard against the house 'n trippin' out onto the creakin' porch. Darry's not far behind him.

Steve's got grass in his dark hair, vest bunched up high around his waist, legs stretched in front of him in the leaves, scowlin' at Soda in disgust 'n pure, childhood curiosity. The kind you get when you'd dare a friend to ride down the hill everyone was a lil' too scared to try 'n a little too proud to admit 'n watch as, for a moment, he rode on air. The closest a kid could ever get to the back of a lightnin' bolt. 'N then he'd bail 'n break his leg 'n you'd suddenly realize there was a reason everyone was scared of that ol' hill.

Two's on his knees, grass stains smudged across the places where they dig into the dirt, a dollar scrunched up in his fist, face split in eager anticipation.

Glory, Darry thinks suddenly, I remember when I'd've done anythin' for a dollar.

'N he had.

He glances down at Pony, the wind pushin' his bangs off his forehead 'n thinks about that hot July day a ten-year-old Soda 'n a thirteen year old Darry had convinced Pony that if he jumped off the porch railin' with a sheet he'd fly.

He'd busted his mouth. Darry 'n Soda had hastily paid him every nickel to their names in the form of hush money. Seven dollars 'n thirty-two cents.

God. But that had been a million years ago.

"Soda?" Pony calls 'n Soda whips around. He's danglin' a worm, wrigglin' 'n squirmin', over a mouth stained with strawberries 'n grinnin' wide, toothy smiles.

Hadn't Darry done that once? Caked fingers in mud 'n scraped soil from his nails? Had laughed 'n swallowed ants off the sidewalk whole for nothin' but the chance to stick out his tongue 'n say he had?

"Bleugh Soda that's gross!" Pony leaps the railin', swingin' his body straight up 'n over 'n for a second Darry could swear he was flyin'. 'N he lands on his feet 'n tackles Soda straight to the ground 'n for a second Darry cringes 'n thinks God, he was never gettin' those stains out 'n Pony's gotta get that math done 'n they were all too old to be horsin' around in the dirt like boys.

But then Soda's howlin' 'n he's lookin' over Pony's bony shoulder 'n grinnin' so wide it's like he was seven again, too many teeth in his mouth 'n too many feelin's in his heart 'n Steve 'n Two-Bit are laughin' 'n jumpin' in 'n Darry stops thinkin' about all of it.

He hops the railin' 'n when he lands he doesn't bail. It was the first real day of summer. Everythin' else could wait.

[7roaches]

assorted doodles be nice to him

[very-poorly-drawn-tgcf]

Go work off that debt Xie Lian! ....with an extra babysitting job.

Meme template for y'all under the cut + examples I made.

Anyway hopefully next episodes won't take too long. The thing is. The Ghost Groom arc is a lot longer than I remember. I'm still racking my brain over how the hell I'm gonna summarize it because I am not going every single instance

[sluckythewizard]

these are A BIT OLD but uhhh here check out these aggio doodles i did forever ago. still VERY happy w my colors :3

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[mueritos]

quick lil post about coming back to art full-time while also being a full time MSW student….it can be possible 0.0

anyway ty to everyone who has supported me over the years i wouldnt be able to go back to art without you all

[ryonello]

ILLARI OVERWATCH U ARE SO BEAUTIFUL I LOVE U SO MUCH