#literally my type

[caelivir]

PLEASEPLEASPLEASEPLEASPEPLWASLEPPLESSEPLEASEPLWASPLESDEGAWDDDDDDDDD

[cliffungerstradwife]

save me sad stoic video game men, save me

[mascdom]

if i don’t fuck this woman in the back of my car soon i might go insane

[apricusapollo]

I know that my ancestors are probably rolling in their graves because historically they spent years fighting turks and protecting our country but holy shit I need kenan yildiz BIBLICALLY

[iheartgirlzn]

UGH i love himbo men 😣😣

[beepbopzlorp]

omg aki is so gorgeous

[vtuberconfessions]

Vesper.....😍😍😍

[rassvetsky]

I need to know this before I die please

Would you ever write for Carmen Berzatto? I LOVE how you capture the personalities of characters you write for and I will literally die if I wake up to a whole carmen fic by you one day

my dear anon i'd love be the culprit of your murder but my creativity was unfortunately ran over by a white dodge ram so drip some thoughts into my ask box if that's not too much of a trouble!! ily

[apollos-boyfriend]

having such an obvious favorite character trope is life ruining bro

[hattersarts]

im already at the south downs cottage guys, catch up

[sukunasweetheart]

Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.

A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.

You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.

"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.

Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."

He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.

"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"

You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.

"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."

What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.

"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.

"Today is supposed to be my birthday."

Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.

"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"

"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."

"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."

Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.

He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.

Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.

For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.

His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.

"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.

"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"

You also hand him a different small item.

"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."

He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.

"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.

"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."

And then you leave him after a quick wave.

Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.

The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.

-

Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.

At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.

Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.

He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.

There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.

Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.

You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.

You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.

He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.

Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.

"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"

"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."

"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.

Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.

"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.

"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."

"Origami, huh? How original."

"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."

"You got a lot of people signed up?"

"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."

You smile up at him hopefully.

"...is the offer still open?"

You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.

"You know. Lessons for grown adults."

"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"

"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"

"Yes, I do."

"Alright. Let’s go."

Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.

You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.

[silvermoon424]

This is a subject that really interests me because I (28 years old) had computer classes in grade school where learning how to efficiently type was a big focus. As a result I have a very high WPM (words per minute) count and am an excellent touch typer.

However, I've heard that they started phasing out computer classes in a lot of schools because it's assumed that kids/teenagers already know how to use a computer in this day and age. But smartphones are more popular than computers now, and as result a lot of Gen Z/Gen Alpha kids are able to text very quickly but their typing skills aren't as good.

[stil-lindigo]

bite of winter.

a comic about a princess who died in the snow.

--

creative notes:

--

all my other comics

store

[wasyago]

joel with a ponytail ( best kind of joel tbh )

( plus an attempt at drawing him with green skin but idk i don't think im gonna use it )

[justsalpals]

it was played as a joke but

there's something genuinely harrowing about gorgug and kristen on the deck of the ship, pelted by rain, swarmed by dragons, these two teenagers looking at each other with wide eyes trying to bury the fear down deep, and

do you remember when we died?

they were freshmen, they were children, they were two years younger but it feels like a hundred hundred years ago

it feels like yesterday, because deep down they're still that boy hiding his too large frame behind a metal flower and a girl stuffing her too large personality into the pages of her bible

do you remember when we died?

the ship rocks violently with cannon fire, hands of fear and divinity and loss creeping from the clouds

do you remember the day you lost your faith?

do you remember a forest so sharp it cut you clean through?

do you think we ever woke up?

[michaelwheelers]

Our fates are sealed. But I think we have one move left.

We can try.