#ily ty <3 <3 <3

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

hello again! it is i, the anon from not quite but nearly exactly a week ago, back again with even more lengthy stuff, if i may be so bold. although at this point i feel almost like it's a full letter, just anonymous and forcefully shoved into a mailbox from seemingly nowhere 💦

aside from me rereading cyanide narwhal the equivalent of maybe three or four times fully in the past week, dear author, your good writing convinced me to fully read one of your other zhongchi fics instead of doing art in my free time, like i wanted to. (there's not been a good uninterrupted free time for it yet, though. i still really want to. however first i'd like my mind to calm down and settle on a few specific ideas instead of looking at the Entire Fic and going "let's draw it" because that,,, in no way is that a starting point, brain,,,,) anyway,

i am not entirely sure where i was going with that train of thought but i must add that, unsurprisingly, your writing certainly did not disappoint. if i may put it this way: i find your writing to be very refreshing and tasty. as long as that doesn't sound weird...? also... i am not really much for shipping, not that i have anything against it; but it really does take some good writing for me to enjoy it, since i don't tend to think about it much myself, so there is also that. (needless to say, i did indeed enjoy it.)

anyway, back to the topic of cyanide narwhal, i do have to ask... what is ajax wearing in his various dreams? considering that they can occur in a few different places, and, well. i assume his outfits would also vary accordingly, at least to some extent. the abyss, the fatui, his parents' house, or some form of liyue- there's quite a significant difference between all of those, so unless the environment doesn't at all affect him in his dreams, i assume his outfit(s) would vary accordingly, to be at least somewhat suitable, if not be copied from the memories themselves (when the dreams are memories, which i get the impression of being a frequent occurrence? *smacks the bad somehow-not-nightmares-but-still-bad-dreams with a stick*). i don't know what to think or which to think is more likely? but i just have to know,, actually i'm curious about how often his outfit varies just in general, too, because that is something i am somewhat uncertain about, but i wanted to carefully search for mentions or at least hints of that before asking about it, and i haven't yet. for why must so many different details be so important to know confidently if i only have a simple wish to draw 😔

also my pov as someone who is something of a perfectionist because i loathe making mistakes on something i care for (read as: literally anything i put effort into, but especially things i very much care for, which includes anything hyperfixation related, and- yeah, you get the idea): *holds head in hands staring at/trying to imagine ajax's heist outfit in the few drawings/descriptions i can find* what does it look like from behind. is it still very similar to a fatui agent's. what extra details or differing details or embellishments. where is it the same. what is different. i can already see some small elements of his normal outfit in game, mostly very clear elements from the delusion phase outfit, and of course a large resemblance in the style to the fatui agent's outfit. i can't get a full full front view either but rear view is the one i have even less of an idea of. side?? side view?? his outfits in general just have so many details that being unable to know fully what specific mix of them is working together is- *pained noises, strongly overthinking every aspect imaginable*

(that isn't meant as a complaint of any sort, i'd manage even if i can't get more references. but for a person who usually struggles to even bother to use references, and that just sounds bad and lazy, because it probably is, but anyway, this is a weird feeling, to search for them so hard with difficulty :'D)

my dear we stand on the exact same boat (on the topic of perfectionism and obsessing over details) and so i both salute you and present you with a probably too overly-complicated answer that i hope will help you;

putting it under the cut to spare everyone's dash;;

Ajax' clothes in his dreams

you are correct in that, generally, if the dream is a memory then yes, he wears an approximation of what he was wearing in that memory, or straight-up the same outfit. if the getup in the memory is intact, like a memory of a normal day at the fatui, then he has the same outfit. but if the getup isn't intact, like- idk, a memory of a dangerous mission where his uniform got kinda torn, then he has an intact verison of the outfit instead. but if it is a memory too distant that the attire of back then wouldn't fit (ie. like a memory from the abyss) then he's wearing whatever he had on upon falling asleep.

so, as an example, in the dream he has of when he got kicked out of his parents' house (when they make snowmen with xiao), he would be wearing his sleeping clothes. this because, in the memory of the dream, ajax was 14 and therefore the clothes he'd had on back then would no longer fit his adult body.

if it is a dream that calls back to no memory in particular, then- whatever goes. i'd say most of the time he'd be wearing whatever he had on upon falling asleep, but some dreams are amalgamations of indistinct memories, and so he could be wearing any other outfit. like a randomizer if given options from his wardrobe.

(while we're on that topic, xiao's clothes in the dreams he enters are generally a variation/something similar to his everyday clothes, as oposed to whatever he fell asleep in. this is because xiao has a degree of control over the dreamscape (though minimal at this stage), and can thus alter how he presents himself – like when he first appeared to ajax as a sort of anemo shade/ghost)

2. do Ajax' outfits vary

yes. but also. i'm- rather embarrassed to admit it, even if i know it's fanfic and therefore not beholden to the level of perfection over minute details that a proper published book ought to be (what with most fanfic posting as it gets written, with little chance to go back and correct mistakes (i know you can, but i feel like i'm cheating everytime i have to do it even though it should be well within my right as the author;;)); but i, uh, may have completely forgotten about ajax' clothes.

so like. he arrives with his heist uniform (i'll get into that one in a bit for your other question dw <3), that i do remember. then he borrows clothes from morax a handful of times. but then guizhong takes him to a tailors? and like- gets him clothes? but for the life of me i cannot remember if i ever got around to writing them actually picking up or making use of those new clothes. like straight-up, i have no idea. it has just left my brain. like i know i could go back and try to find it but honestly? i feel like that's just not as important for the purposes of the story, even if it will forever grate on my consciousness. so, so they get clothes at the tailors, but i do remember it being like- we'll come pick those up once they're done, so ajax carries on using his heist uniform and morax' clothes in alternation. if i remembered to have them pick up the clothes, then he would've worn those only once or twice (i think??) before the whole snezhnaya trip and subsequent celestia spy mission happened. which. has seen him donning nothing but the heist uniform, so. for the past chapters, that's all he's been wearing. he has occasionally worn his hesit uniform but without the intricate coat, which is the same outfit he has in his brithday artwork but like- with black pants.

i apologize about the whole tailor's clothes situation but believe you me i'm more annoyed by it than any of you probably are (i doubt many of you care all that much about such an inconsequential little detail lmao)

3. heist uniform

it is indeed just a fatui pyro agent's attire from the game- but like, only the coat. i'm working under the assumption that our modern fatui don't wear that sort of stuff, even if their uniforms are indeed not as dull as any ordinary soldier's. so like- by comparison, a pyro agent's uniform (from the game - our game, not theirs) would look intricate and ornate. i know ajax has a ceremonial getup, the one from the lasso trailer, but 1) that got revealed as i was already several chapters into the story and 2) i assume that's like- for very formal events, not heists. so,

it's a pyro fatui agent's coat, but the red accents are all shades of black and grey. the back looks exactly the same as the in-game model does, i think. the only major difference that i can think of is that he doesn't wear the hood, and that he has his red scarf on. so like- take tartaglia's model and take the scarf portion apart (front and back), and put it on a pyro agent. that's it.

the clothes under the coat are his delusion design from the bossfight, only the vision at the belt remains the same hydro from his playable model.

so uh- i hope that was helpful? thank you so very much for venturing into another fic of mine, i hope you liked it as well <3

[mblue-art]

You made Killer such a cute little sad boy omg I am screaming. Please hug him or something, or trap him under a content little kitty idk but he needs it.

I love your art, it's so soft, sweet, warm, and cozy. Like marshmallows in warm hot cocoa <3

awe, ur sweet anon, thank u i appreciate this very much <333

belated cuddles from a kibby and his crush!! for the birthday boy! (napping at the coziest corner at ccino's 😎)

<< 🎯

[yumishisu]

it's britney, BITCH !!

[riaki]

after party | satoru gojo x reader

gojo wanted to help you prepare a friendsgiving dinner, but he's a little tired n a lot tipsy.

cw: non curse au, everyones alive, shoko typical smoking, drinking, you’re married to gojo wc: 3.3k

this was supposed to be short but it just spiraled n i kind of hate it b i technically posted on the 23rd so it counts !! not proofread!

business dinners with satoru are exhausting, to say the least—you start the day early to the scent of coffee through a filter and a fresh breeze through your open window, sending your husband off to work with a hug and a kiss—maybe a promise of more if he pulls the 'five more minutes!' on you.

this one is special, though; old friends from freely youthful highschool days gathered around your dinner table on the mats of your living room floor catching up over cans of beer cold with condensation, the sound of can tabs popping and the fizzling of bubbly spirits over tables of warm food in tin containers.

geto, the tall man with dark hair and gauges, talks about how his two daughters are adjusting to city life, occasionally interrupted by cheerful brightness never dampened by adult years from haibara, an apprenticing entrepeneur under nanami who's got a thing for girls with big appetites. shoko and utahime are having a drinking contest, and mei mei's too occupied with her phone; checking stocks as her tacky nails click against the glass screen.

satoru can't cook. there's a reason why he always buys takeout when you're too busy to provide or you've already gone to sleep— he should be the picture perfect husband, because you deserve that and everything more. his only (self-perceived) flaws are his lack of alcohol tolerance and his inability to master the frying pan.

you always tell him he doesn't have to be a michelin chef— but with the way he's constantly sneaking a chocolate graham cracker from your muji snack bag or snagging the sour gummy between your teeth from your lips, he feels like he should compensate. so on this special november evening, when the hum of the city life outside your balcony gets drowned out by the cheerful mirth of a warm dinner table, he had decided to help you.

the warm kitchen had become a foodstained disaster— but with tearful round eyes and a hand tugging on your shirt, you'd resigned to helping him conquer the task of simple packaged noodles and soft-boiled eggs. he'd cut his finger— even the most capable teacher found his shortcomings against a blunt kitchen knife. needless to say you'd peppered it with kisses before wrapping a rainbow hello kitty bandaid around it.

and that brings you to the present: the result of your extensively hard work; a few soggy noodles collected at the bottom of porcelain bowls painted red on the insides in a lukewarm puddle of soup, full stomachs and a loose and welcoming atmosphere. you wouldn't trade it for the world.

you're fishing a pickled radish slice out of your bowl when satoru leans over, removing the arm that was snaked around your shoulder to drape himself on your lap, lying down on the floor with his knees propped up and his soft cloud-white hair sprawled over your thighs. geto makes a distasteful face when satoru's black socks brush against his leg. across the table, shoko knocks shoulders with utahime as she lights a cigarette; the latter's face flushes as smoke drifts past her lightly flushed face into the open window city night air overhead.

"hey, you. what's up?" you asked softly, chuckling to yourself as you set your chopsticks atop the rim of your bowl, leaning back on your arms to look down at him. he adjusts himself a little, wiggling on your lap as you caught a whiff of his beer breath and scrunch your nose.

"hiii, baby," he drawls, giggling a little to himself. his smooth, usually playful voice took on that deep tone he used whenever he was being serious, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, so you hugged him closer and ran a hand through his soft white hair, brushing your fingers against the black cloth of his blindfold. "what'cha doing?"

"i was eating. you put too much pepper in the broth, 'toru." you smiled softly, tracing the line of his jaw slowly with one finger in the way you knew he liked so much; it was obvious from the way he sighed contentedly and tilted his head into your palm. whether it be from that unfathomably sweet smile or the tender way you held his face in your delicate hands, that was up to him to ponder. next to you, haibara makes a joke— something about mei mei's stocks, and she quips a snarky retort that has him laughing raucously while nanami makes a face.

"i tried!" he protests, almost a whine as he sighs; a hand sneaks up to lift the edge of his blindfold up so his eyes meet yours, and you're left breathless. it catches you off guard every time— those endless pools of swirling blue that stare straight through you, sifting through your thoughts like a scholar annotating an open book, all heart-shaped sticky notes and bright highlighters when it came to thinking about him.

"not hard enough, clearly. but it's okay; we'll do better next time."

he just frowns again at that, sticking out his lower lip in a little pout that makes your heart squeeze. your stomach is full with noodles and broth; you don't think you could stomach another bite if you tried, and you're not one to drink especially if everyone else is. so, you let yourself indulge a little— snake a hand on the back of satoru's neck and tilt him up until he's sitting halfway up and you can easily meet his lips in a kiss.

he reciprocates immediately, hungry like he was waiting for you; you notice that he hasn't eaten much of his food yet, so maybe he was. or maybe he knows how bad it is. either way, his tongue darts out from his parted lips to flick against your own for a moment, before he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip and draws out a teasing whine that you have to stifle because "we have company, 'toru," you have to breath as a reminder. he just laughs breathily against your lips, tasting like bitter beer and buttery vanilla as he shifts to practically sit on top of you, hands on your shoulders as his thumbs brush over your collarbone where the edge of your shirt fails to cover tantalizing skin; he's taller and eventually ends up bringing the both of you toppling down onto the mats.

your back hits the floor and a little gasp leaves your winded lungs— but satoru eagerly catches it with his lips and swallows it, like he's intent on getting drunken off his ass from you (as if he wasn't already tipsy) when he smashes his swollen lips to yours again. your hair is splayed out against the tatami mats like you're trapped in some marine watercolor painting, and for a split second satoru thinks if mermaids were real you'd be the most angelic he'd ever seen as his calloused fingers curl into the strands.

you're about to hook a leg around his waist when a shout catches your ear and you part lips with a gasp, sucking in greedy breaths as satoru promptly sits on your stomach. you let out a stuffed oomph from his weight, and watch as he slides his blindfold back on to look over at the rest of the table who're staring at the two of you like they're watching some forbidden steamy movie scene that's meant to be shielded from children's eyes.

“don’t kiss him while he’s drunk. it’s like rewarding a brat for bad behavior,” shoko says. you sit up with much effort, straining under satoru’s weight as you reach up to grab his shoulders. you miss, but he takes your hands and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling back down as you rest your head on his shoulder. utahime has her arms lazily draped over shoko; you assume she’s drunk from that, but if you were to inspect her for long enough you’d notice her can of beer was almost completely full.

“oh, i guess you’re right.” you remarked, frowning a little and biting the inside of your cheek as you pull away from satoru and glance at him. all of the sudden he looks like he’s ready to keel over; the shadows beneath his eyes are reinforced by the alcohol in his system and it looks like he’ll need to tape his eyes open lest he passes out right on top of you. you want to avoid that, so you gently push him off, sighing to yourself.

“don’t listen to her, sweetheart. you can kiss me all you want,” he smirks, a flash of pearly white teeth that would’ve been on your neck a moment ago if not for the interruption. you just shake your head with a breathless laugh, giving him a quick flick to the forehead. before you can pull away, though— he catches your hand, bringing your wrist to his glossy pink lips and giving your pulse a quick peck. “no, she has a point.” you hummed. overhead, the light flickers a little; a moth that had flown in through the window danced about the bulb. the faint sound of car horns filters through the window along with the breeze, recycled laughter and lively chatter from bars a few stories down carried in the cool wind.

you mill about for another twenty minutes or so, content to just listen in as old friends shared anecdotes and funny stories from separate paths of life; you soon learned that nanami was planning on moving to malaysia, and shoko was due to renew her medical license this year. the beer cans built up, mixed in with crumpled napkins that had penned doodles on the rough surface and paper chopstick wrappers. somewhere along the line, satoru had fallen asleep— you had to push his unfinished ramen bowl out of the way before he knocked his head against the wooden table and spilt his meal. you frowned a little at the sight of it— you knew he'd complain about his soaked noodles and limp seaweed sheets later on. you found yourself slinging one of your jackets over his shoulders, fingers lingering over his neck, where the scratchy hair of his undercut met soft warm skin.

soon enough, dishes are piling up in the sink and calling your name; the kids see themselves home via train station, spouting something about a late night pit stop in sendai for the mochi that 'our teacher likes so much'. you consider asking them to bring some back for satoru, but you decide you'll enjoy a laugh when he tells you about how he went to school the next morning to find out for himself, and the stab of hurt that will pierce his full heart in two when he hears the news. even then, you have to shush them as they show themselves out; you can tell from the way satoru's eyebrows knit together beneath his blindfold and the pinch of his jaw that he doesn't appreciate the noise, no matter how blacked out.

the conversation dies down a little, and soon enough, everyone takes their leave one by one. it's only when you settle back down after cleaning up the bowls and putting away the cups that satoru stirs, waking up with a mumble and a huff. his hair is a disheveled mess, and there are sleep lines on his face, but he's still handsome as ever.

"baby?" his voice is hoarse with sleep and dehydration. there's a dull ache between his eyes, feeling like he'd just ran a circle around the world. you answer from the kitchen, calling his name. it's late; past midnight now. the window's still open and satoru's can of beer is still on the table, almost completely empty.

"how long did i sleep? shit, did everyone go home? 'm sorry," he groans, standing up and stretching his arms out. his shirt rides up on his shoulders, exposing the arch of his hip just above the edge of his pants. "don't worry, 'toru." you hummed, washing your hands in the sink as you look over at him. he just nods, grabbing the can and crumpling it in his hands before tossing it in the trash.

"you okay? got a headache?" you asked as he walked over to you, careful not to hit his head on the arch that connected the living room to the kitchen. when you'd first moved in with him, you had to pin a strip of bright yellow caution tape to remind him to duck his head. you smiled as you reminisced over late nights, tucked in his arms as he mused about demolishing the wall there just so he could be rid of the bruise on his temple. then again, as long as you were waiting for him to kiss it better at the end of his nine to five, he didn't mind.

he nods, and watches as an easy smile stretches across your lips; they look infuriatingly kissable under the warm glow of the hazy kitchen light, shining off the porcelain cups in the sink. he leans against the kitchen counter, cold marble feeling through the thin fabric of his shirt as you take his leftovers from the fridge and heat them up in the microwave, standing before the black glass as you watch the little plate spin inside.

there's something about moments like these; so sweet and easy with you after everyone's taken the last train home and all that's left are empty beer cans and extra bowls in the dishwasher for two people with matching rings on their fingers to take care of.

he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chin. he smiles when he feels your hand cup his cheek, and he turns his head instinctively to meet your lips in a slow, sweet kiss; a muscle memory tango between familiar lovers. when he pulls away to catch his breath, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, you're already there with your fingers, pulling his blindfold down to rest around his neck and gently rubbing the spot beside his eyes, alleviating the tension behind them. it's unspoken moments like these that he loves the most in your relationship. making a mess in your kitchen is a close second.

it's a slow, easy night after a special get-together when the microwave beeps and you take his noodles out, bringing them to the table as you sit down next to him and rest your head on his shoulder, letting him tuck you into his side as he gets a bit of breaded tonkotsu crumbs on his cheek and insists you wipe them off for him like he's some oversized baby. you wash some cherries in a green plastic bowl, competing to see who can spit the pits into the trashcan without missing. in the end, he lost the game of rock paper scissor and was resigned to pick up the missed pits on the floor.

he's still wearing your jacket like a cape and even though it's far too small for him, he insists on keeping it with him when you go out onto your balcony to finish the last of a bottle of sake together, listening to the melody of the wind in the trees that line the sidewalk and the permeating hustle and bustle of the city, even when it's so late at night it could be considered early morning.

he swipes the cold bottle from your hands, finishing the last drops from the matte glass before letting it dangle between your fingers. and you're expecting it when he catches your arm to pull you into another kiss; he tastes like peaches and wine and a little bit of soup broth. it's slow, and easy, because being with him has always felt as natural as breathing, and being with you has made it easier for him to breathe, like the iron weight on his lungs melts away in the face of your unconditional warmth and care. the cool wind blows your hair in front of your face, and he laughs that charming boyish giggle as he tucks it behind your ears and scoops you up in his arms.

"i don't like sharing you with a sake bottle," you said, pointedly looking at the glass in his hand. he just grins, looking down at you for a moment. he can almost see it again; you, in that gorgeous white wedding cloth. he was carrying you bridal style in the same way now, when you'd decided to grow old together and host special business dinners as a couple in your shared apartment.

"don't worry, love. you're sweeter than any spritz," he laughs, stepping inside again and closing the door behind him.

it's routine, and it's easy, getting ready for bed with him, laughing when he pushes his hair back with a headband, looking like a pretty little princess. you suggest him getting a mullet, and he shushes you by shoving your toothbrush on your tongue, getting a mouthful of mint. the warm water rushes over your fingers before you dry yourself off, wiping your face and putting the towel away only to be met with the equal warmth of his lips on your forehead, peppering you with kisses.

you slip into the covers, still pleasantly cold as you watch satoru sit up and take his shirt off. he lets you peel the rainbow bandaid on his finger off, tossing it in the trash before pulling you into his arms, right where you belong the closest to his heart. "don't cut yourself like that again, okay?"

"it was an accident, baby." he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes. he reaches over to ruffle your hair affectionately and makes a joke about having you suck his blood like a vampire, tooting about how sweet it would be. "besides, i don't need to be careful if you're there to patch me up, pretty. shoko has nothing on you!"

he plays with your hair as you catch him up to the conversations he'd slept away; mei mei had left early when you'd given him your jacket to envelope him in your scent, muttering something about cheap perfume and worthless soggy noodles. he likes to play with your jewelry, you notice— fiddles with the ring on your finger, cupping your hands in his palm as he tucks his face into the back of your neck.

at one point, he asks you to do his hair, so you oblige, rolling him over onto his stomach and clambering on top of his waist. you braid his white strands into cute little pigtails best as you could manage as he tells you about his dream; something about harassing nanami in malaysia and a sunset kiss under crystal clear beach water. it sounds nice, and when you're done with his hair you find it easier to just massage his shoulders and listen to the smooth droning of his voice.

soon enough, you're both warmer than the lukewarm buzz of beer in your veins, and he doesn't remember if he fell asleep first or not, but the gentle melody of your voice haunts him in his dazed sleep as he curls around you.

business dinners really are exhausting— he's left wondering how you pull it off the morning after when he's hungover and the cut on his finger is infected— clearly, the hello kitty bandaid wasn't enough to cut it. the only reasoning that he explains to you as you take your morning shower together, fingers running through your hair, is that you didn't kiss it enough. maybe that's why his soup had too much pepper and he didn't know how to cut the cucumbers.

he's still an amateur, so he'll leave the cooking to you. maybe next time he'll pretend the takeout he grabbed on his way home from school was handmade, though he doubts his friends will ever believe him, or his students after he demands they buy him kikufuku as compensation for leaving him out the night before.

ignore the ep that came out today! everyone’s alive and well. trust my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[fatuismooches]

Speaking of crow friends (and corvids in general) they can talk! They mimic sounds way better than parrots do. So rises this funny idea for a scenario:

Let's go for a raven for this one since they sound more human-like with their mimicry.

Dottore one day gets a very startled lover interrupting his experiments, insisting that they heard something saying: "Hello? Hello?" Out their window - and it's very creepy!

And what's worse is - they hear it saying things like "I see you!" In a very sing-song voice! And it's freaking them out!

Dottore investigates of course, going into the room they last heard it in. He stood there for a couple of minutes, before he heard knocking on the nearby window, and a light voice calling out: "Hi!"

A large huddled silhouette is perched on the edge of the frosted window.

It's is a raven.

A raven who thought it was very funny watching the other human scrambling about earlier. Anyway, maybe this new human can get the food!

The raven knocks again, this time pointedly looking at the plate of cookies near the window.

The raven had been terrorising his lover for cookies.

[Extension: Ravens repeat what they hear, especially if the words have effect like: "Come here," and they mimic the voice of the person they heard it from almost perfectly. So... Segments hearing their 'lover' calling them from somewhere time to time? It's just a bird that thinks it's entertaining to watch them walk around confused.]

The first 'hello' made you pause and wonder if you just imagined it. The second 'hello' had you alert and looking around for one of your lovers only to be met with nothing. The third 'hello' had you jumped up and ready to smack some intruder over the head with a book, because no one else knew the location of your room. A few seconds of silence had you nervously inching away from the window and toward the door.

At first, you thought it could be the evolution of Foxttore learning your language and therefore carefully examined him, but much to your disappointment he remained a lazy beast that pawed at his empty food bowl and laid around in the worst places that made the segments trip. With a sigh, you briefly lower your guard and wonder if you really are too tired - but then came the eerie 'I see you' from somewhere that you could not pinpoint.

You never bolted so fast in your life.

Naturally, your husband is surprised when you all but crash into his lab and run to his side to huddle near him, mostly because this isn't you being needy for cuddles but instead, you're clinging and digging into his clothes as if something had gone terribly wrong. With some back rubbing and water from Dottore, the words come spilling out about the very real and scary voice that had tormented you for the past few minutes and the conclusion that the lab may be haunted.

As silly as your observation sounds, Dottore can't write it off especially when you're this freaked out, and also the fact he won't forgive himself if you do get hurt from him not listening to you (past incidents and all). And so the two of you walk toward the scene, of course with you firmly attached to his side and making his walking speed two times slower.

You remain by the door's entrance, carefully sending nervous looks around your room while somehow still being concerned for him.

"What if the entity gets you?!"

"I can assure you I'll be fine."

A little bit of searching (although there's really not much to go off of) has you antsy and Dottore thoughtful before the voice calls out once more, only this time the culprit is much more obvious, cawing and raising its feathers dramatically. Immediately your anxiety washes away.

"A bird friend!" You exclaim with excitement before it dies down a bit, remembering the mini panic you just went through. "A wicked bird friend... but it's cute!" Needless to say, Dottore is unwilling to sacrifice any of your treats but throws the bird some nuts and fruit at your insistence.

(Poor segments are dropping what they're doing in exchange for "your" sweet beckoning, only to end up huffing in disappointment. Omega is the first to catch on but lets the little guy continue to do its thing because he finds it amusing too.)

[notevenhodgepodge]

Jinx: man, I love my dad, he's the only one who understands me and let's me do whatever i want! Hes so nice😁😁😁

Silco: I LOVE CHILD LABOR I LOVE CHILD LABOR I LOVE CHILD LABOR I LOVE CHILD LABOR I LOVE

[sophsun1]

queer as folk + text posts

[ofpaintedflowers]

coffee and leftover pie

[aleixis]

isagi's the type of guy to ask u "yk chippy chips" as a pickup line

[galaxywantsacookie]

[Image ID: Depicted is former and impeached President Donald J. Trump as seen in his police mugshot. Said mugshot has been edited into the Parts and Services room (CAM5) as shown on the surveillance system from the game Five Night's at Freddy's. ]

[moonyflesh]

the last pic in that set is from Saw III, not Saw 2004!

i’m just a girl 🎀

[harrylights]

present day H&L but give them both long hair <3 done as a req for @loustomlinson ✨

[illidariiii]

Twitter liked by booth babe / loss prevention Raphael so here are some Sakura Con Raphy pics ( ty to everyone who asked to take pictures with him, he would love the praise and attention hah! ) His ass was NOT HELPING!!!! Bonus, just some of the cute Raphael art I got from other vendors <3

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Ao3 still won’t let me give more kudos :/

Screw that I’m sending them here ❤️❤️❤️

New chapter!!!!!!!

hahaha thank you!!!

[b-erwr]

♡⃞ ✢ ∿ 🌙 cereal : the event

↷ ⋎ ✧ introduction

・HII EVERYBODY! this is my very first event in honor of 50+ followers!!! this event will be all about cereal if its not obvious enough for my hyeinners !!!! i luv u all thank you so much for this milestone btw :3

↷ ⋎ ✧ how to enter

・reblog this post & tag 2 of ur fav blogs or moots. proceed with commenting "joining." then, dm me a number from 1-5 for the cereal brand you’ll make a moodboard of. also dm me a number from 1-9 for your idol, before u do that state if ur an only bg/gg blog!

↷ ⋎ ✧ plus points

・you can get extra points IF your moodboard contains icon/s made by you, locs made by you, gif/s made by you, etc etc. put in the tags if you made something by yourself. e.g: #gif by me

↷ ⋎ ✧ prizes

・1st: 90 reblogs on poc, follow from me, blog s/o, 8 custom mbs

・2nd: 60 reblogs on poc, follow from me, blog s/o, 5 custom mbs

・3rd: 30 reblogs on poc, follow from me, 3 custom mbs

↷ ⋎ ✧ fav blogs (ignore)

・ @egorls @e-unchaes @yeritos @lovveons @iluvrei @y-ujin @y-urios @y2qi @y-vna @kangrins @mazeui @raeceah @seulio @umiena @shiolu @eliatopia @fuckici @gun-wook @trivijoy @baesol @p-oisn @i-kyujin @ahinsite @jenfaery @kiiorraa @nwtzy @sulvy @snflwwr + WAYYYY too much more

[lavampira]

and I get lost when I try to find my way and I start to tumble down pick me back up off the ground

part 2 of a very lovely birthday gift from @coldshrugs <3