#thanks for the request anon <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ladythot]

Only cuz you asked for it uwu

Could you write a Gyutaro smut where he's VERY intrigued by our period blood (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

Ah hell yeah, the blood😎 I like it very anon, smooth choice.

Warnings: menstruation, oral, 18+

Gyu would have a lot of questions ringing at his head at first, he doesn't know anything about human anatomy at all. After all he's a demon to begin with—he only gets to see the human anatomy when he gobbles humans for food but it never picked his concerns. Since, they're food for him.

You've gotten a hold of being a hostage after a month or so, not one or two of your relatives has come to your rescue nor the demon hunters had initiated into investigating you yet—you expected not much to your side since he's taken you to a place nobody would expect you to resort in. You knew he's a smart one, or a cruel creature in the least. You knew you're up to no good since you're not only being played foul by one, daki also has you hostage although, you felt nice after hearing gyu talked you out with her to be firm with ya. But the thing is, daki's spoiled instincts are the way they are. You're no different from her assistances.

You were borrowed harsh enough by the two so it's no surprise you're all stressed up and banged in there—you haven't gotten your period since the last month—but so far you were glad about it now that you're living under one roof with two bloodthirsty demons yet you're also aware of the fact you'll probably die soon or maybe the night you get it.

You supposed he's got a sharper sense of smell than daki so rather, when your period comes he'll probably lose control or gnaw on you right away. You've talked to him just once in a month, not too long or deep, but you were mentally disrupt and too jumpy. Just talked about casualties and spilt your beans out of the blue about getting your period abruptly and he might devour you at night of that, he didn't listen though he doesn't know what the fuck a period is and why men can't have it as for humans. You just warned him about it.

But what you expected with gyutaro was different.

Not the fact he's got a sharper nose than his sister of course. And in fact, you were very right about it.

He was the first one to find out you're on your period "blood.. I smell blood, from down there.." He points at your abdomen, and you snapped at your train of thoughts.

You felt just about a small drip at your entrance, soon tracing the front downward of your fabric. Panicked, you backed at his figure getting a detailed inspection of you while you dropped the basket of fabrics from the brothel daki works in while passing him "You alright?" Unexpectedly, you blanked at his comment.

He doesn't seem to starve at the smell, unlike the other nights you'd witnessed him going batshit crazy about the spill of blood in the ground. He's very calm about it, yet he still managed to look frightening for you. He squats infront of you, face blank, just staring where the metallic scent stinks from—your breath hitches. More blood stained your fabric as the scent grew more intense.

"I-im.. On my period... That's why there's blood..." Crossing your legs infront of him, he smiles.

"It's smells sorta nice though, not too bad actually. Mind if I get a taste at it?" With a heavy aura, he breathes raspily, the softly warm conditioned breath spreads at your bare neck—the smell oddly makes him wild by each seconds, as if you're bewitching him.

Quick enough, you made a decision. Let him devour you just now. You don't care what happens next or if anything will even happen next. You just wanted to escape reality even if your last scene will utmost be painful as you thought. You had a small glimpse of his expression—two words, intrigued and famished. He's salivating almost, his breath becomes more raspy and labored, it's the same reaction you recalled when he smelt blood over torn bodies.

He finally laid his hands on both of your thighs, letting you rest back, mouth hanging with a gentle drool that trailed at your thigh, you closed your eyes letting the man do what he wanted.

Not long enough, you felt the hem of your kimono fold up next to a big lap at your underwear. "Guhh-" you moaned, the entire coat of your skin shivered, and the tiny pricks of hair stood with goosebumps. Sweat dripped continuously at your forehead down to your chin, your hands gripped the folded creases of your kimono, the lapping on your underwear doesn't stop. The blood patterning the fabric ushered him more. Your cunt's almost all wet with your thighs jerking nonstop. You could hear him muttering a few curse words, you tell yourself he's enjoying this as you let yourself melt to and fro—your mind was all fogged up by him just lapping at your stained underwear, he couldn't help himself.

Soon you felt his tongue bumping at the sides of your underwear through your inner thigh and reaching out to your wet slit—he groaned. Humming himself at the taste, so good, so appealing. You were fogged up.

He grabbed at your garter, ripping the fabric off that's blocking the way to where your blood gushes from. You could feel the rough pricks on his slithering tongue rounding the insides of your cunt—spreading you more, you held the short ponytail on his head.

"S-stop.. I-i" cut.

You protested to no avail, your limbs are too weak to move on their own—your tongue is too short for words. As you let him just do what he pleases that night.

—

Part 2? Anyone? <3

[ping-ski]

moon grilling a cheese in a frilly apron while looking directly at the camera and doing a big thumbs up 👍(the cheese is burnt to a crisp. It is naught but embers)

girl dinner robot dinner! <3

[desertduality]

gigs phasmo but the ghost is just confused mumbo jumbo

physically unable to write a snippet so here's a whole oneshot AKJSDKJ I hope you like it!! Personally I had a ton of fun lmao

-------

The house was nice, as far as haunted locations went. The flowers out front were dead, sure, but that was probably on account of their caretaker being dead as well.

The neighbors had been the ones to call this address in, claiming that although the owner of the property had died quite some months ago, lights frequently turned on and off in the house. The police had been by several times to check for intruders, and had come up empty every time. Finally, some desperate neighbor had given in and called paranormal investigators.

So there they were, Impulse pulling up on the curb just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Prime ghost hunting time, for some reason; Scar hadn’t really paid attention to the science and research when he’d signed up for the job. Besides, the other three had all that handled quite nicely. Scar was just along for the ride. 

“Scar, you know what you’re doing?” Impulse asked, grabbing a flashlight off the wall and clipping his walkie onto his belt. 

“Sir, yes sir!” Scar quipped, scanning the gear for his usual fare. “One paraba-dolical microphone coming up.”

“Grab a thermometer, too,” Impulse suggested, clapping him on the shoulder on his way out of the van. “Let’s try to keep this one clean! The company is running low on cursed items with resurrection abilities.”

“I know for a fact we’ve made the biggest dent in that,” Skizz’s voice crackled out of the walkie, changing to a slight echo as he presumably walked in the house.

“Why do you sound proud of that?” Grian asked, speaking into the radio as he grabbed a salt canister. Scar snickered, reaching over him to grab the thermometer. 

“We’ve got a record going, man! No one can stop us!”

“You have to admire his positivity,” Scar said brightly, clicking his flashlight to make sure it worked. 

“Yeah, I guess he’s got that going for him,” Grian replied, giving a short wave as he left the van. “See you on the inside, Scar.”

Scar gave a jaunty wave, doing one last check on his equipment before starting after him. A voice cut him off before he could leave. 

“Did anyone check the name?” Impulse asked, and Scar turned around to squint at the corkboard, eyes catching on the top. 

Huh. Interesting. 

Scar clicked the talk button on his walkie. “Looks like… Mumbo Jumbo?”

There was a long pause, and Scar almost thought they had missed it somehow. Then the response came.

“Scar,” Grian said, sounding tiredly amused. “If you can’t pronounce it, don’t just make something up.”

“No, It— It literally says Mumbo Jumbo,” Scar replied, glancing up to double check. “Don’t make me waste a photo to prove it. I will, you know I will.”

“Don’t, Scar,” Impulse jumped in, so quickly that the start of his sentence cut out. “We believe you.”

“Get in here before I come and drag you, Face,” Skizz chimed in, and Scar rolled his eyes with a chuckle, stepping out of the van. 

The house was warmer than the air outside, so Scar took that as a sign that someone had gotten to the fuse box. He wandered around with the paradabolic microphone for a few minutes, watching closely for big leaps in the readings. Eventually, Impulse called out from upstairs, claiming that he’d found the room. Scar hurried towards him, making it there just in time to watch him set up the video camera, fiddling with the tripod and muttering complaints about its stability. 

The room was a bedroom, a large bed against one wall and a shelf full of dead plants on the other. Everything was covered with a thin layer of dust, but that was pretty usual. Obviously no one had been keeping up with the cleaning.   

“Anyone done spirit box?” Grian asked, and Scar jumped and whirled around, finding him in the doorway. Grian giggled, and Scar huffed. 

“Not yet,” Impulse said, finally getting the tripod to settle. He looked over at them. “Want us to leave?”

“Not really,” Grian grumbled, starting to power up the spirit box. “But yes.”

Scar walked out of the door and Impulse followed him, closing it and leaving Grian in the room alone. Immediately, they heard the telltale singing introduction of Grian beginning to ask questions. The rest of the house was quiet. So far, everything had been entirely unremarkable.

“I’m going to go grab D.O.T.S and a book,” Impulse spoke suddenly, starting to walk away. “Maybe you could start grabbing some stuff for a polty pile?”

“Sure, will do,” Scar said, and started picking up objects from the table in the hallway. A lot of picture frames and spare wires, for whatever reason.

Grian opened the door to the room just as Scar arrived with his arms full, and Scar tilted his head at the odd look on the other’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was wearing a faint frown. 

“What’s wrong?” Scar asked, curious. Normally, Grian came out of a spirit box session with wide eyes and immediately ran to the van. This was out of character.

“I think…” Grian started, contemplative frown getting more pronounced. “I think the ghost apologized to me.”

“...huh?”

“I asked where it was,” Grian said, spirit box slack in his hand. “And then it said something, and then I screamed, and then it— I could have sworn it said sorry. Like, for scaring me.”

“Oh,” Scar said, tilting his head. “Has that happened before?”

Grian shook his head slowly, staring at the spirit box for a minute before exhaling forcefully. “Let’s just keep going,” he said, shoving the device in his pocket. “We still have a job to do.” Then, into his walkie: “We’ve got spirit box, guys. One thing down.”

They kept doing their jobs like they normally would, but none of them could quite shake the sense of something being different.

Usually, the haunted locations they visited had a foreboding sort of feeling to them. They get in and out of those places as soon as possible, the feeling of imminent danger settling on their shoulders like a heavy jacket. There was none of that, here. It was obviously haunted, but it still just felt like... a house. It didn’t feel malicious at all. 

Impulse put a book down, and writing appeared a few minutes later. Just a single sentence, asking if they would water the plants on their way out.

They laid down D.O.T.S and stayed out in the van for a while, eventually seeing a tall, hazy figure pass quickly through. 

They caught ghost orbs on the video surveillance.

Impulse took the Ultraviolet flashlight and found fingerprints on the side of the video camera, like the ghost had been curious about it. 

The salt Grian had placed on the ground was smeared and scattered, almost as if the ghost had slipped on it instead of stepped in it. 

“If we discovered some new type of ghost,” Grian said eventually, muffled through his own hands covering his face, after hours of pouring over the conflicting evidence. “I am going to be upset.”

“None of this makes sense!” Impulse complained, flipping through the research journal that Scar had never touched. He was scowling at the pages like they’d personally offended him. “It won’t even hunt!”

“He seems kinda friendly,” Scar said, staring at the steady line of the EMF reader on the screen. “The poor guy just wants his plants watered. I don’t even have the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn’t help. Those things are dead dead.”

Impulse’s head thunked down on the table in front of him. “We’re so fired.”

In the silence following that statement, Skizz burst into the van, holding an object aloft in celebration.

“I found it!” Skizz yelled triumphantly, the wrinkly figure of the monkey paw clutched in his hand. “It fell behind some boxes. I told you it was here.”

“Oooh,” Scar said, rushing over in excitement. “What should we wish for?”

“A quick death?” Grian said flatly.

Scar waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve had too many of those. It gets kind of boring, believe it or not.”

“Let’s just wish to see it,” Impulse said, heaving himself up from his hunched position by the monitor. “We’ve done everything else we could do, let’s just do it.”

“Sure, why not,” Grian said, shrugging. “Let’s go out in a blaze of glory, then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Skizz laughed, and together the four of them marched back into the house.

The room was exactly as they’d left it, and Impulse took a moment to turn off the D.O.T.S. Then they stood in a loose circle, tense and determined. Whatever was happening here, it would be over soon. One way or the other. Maybe the company wouldn’t even bother to bring them back, this time. 

Skizz held the monkey paw aloft, dim light casting dramatic shadows on his face. “I wish to see the ghost!”

A finger on the monkey paw cracked and groaned as it bent down, and a chill swept across the room, quick and encompassing. Their flashlights flickered, and then died, leaving them in complete darkness. For a long moment, the only sound was their chorus of quick and shaky breathing.

When the lights turned back on, Scar was face to face with a ghost. A ghost that looked equally as startled as he was. 

Scar yelped and stumbled backwards, tripping over the open book on the ground and hurtling towards the bed. The ghost — a tall man with dark hair and an absolutely wonderful mustache — lunged forward and reached out as if to catch him, eyes wide and panicked. To be fair to the dead man, it absolutely would have worked if his hands were still a tangible thing; As it were, his attempt at grabbing Scar to keep him upright was rather rudely foiled by his outstretched hand passing right through Scar’s flailing arm.

Scar hit the bed with a grunt as various cries of alarm sounded out around him, light bouncing around the room haphazardly as the sound of clattering reached his ears; someone had dropped their flashlight, apparently. Scar laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling, dazed. 

“Oh gosh! I’m so— I didn’t mean to pop in like that, I—”

Scar looked up just in time to watch a crucifix fly through the air and pass harmlessly through the ghost’s head, hitting the wall with a thud and falling gracelessly to the floor. The ghost yelped and ducked — much too late, not that it mattered, anyway — and Scar’s gaze next landed on Grian, still standing there with his arm extended in a throwing motion, hand empty and eyes wide.

“What was that gonna do, G?!” Skizz asked hysterically, fumbling for his camera, accidentally snapping a picture of his own face and swearing when the light blinded him. 

Impulse had knocked over the tripod in all of the chaos, and was now frantically attempting to set it back upright. The ghost — Mumbo Jumbo — turned his anxious eyes on Scar, who for once was struck speechless, jaw slack. 

“Are you alright, mate?” Mumbo Jumbo asked, hands fidgeting together. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but— Well, you summoned me. There’s only so much to be done for that.”

With everyone else still scrambling about the room, Scar allowed himself a few seconds to process things. Most ghosts they’d come across — all of them, actually — had been nothing less than murderous and bloodthirsty. The cordial ghost of a perfectly normal man was not something they had been trained for, but that didn’t exactly mean that it was impossible. Sure, maybe it had come way, way out of left field, but Scar prided himself on rolling with the punches. He pushed himself up from the bed with a sheepish, charming smile. 

“It’s all good,” Scar said, bright and friendly. “For sure our fault, we summoned you and got surprised when you showed up. Kind of rude of us, I think. Your mattress is super comfortable, by the way.”

Mumbo Jumbo blinked, as if surprised by the onslaught of words, a confused little furrow appearing between his brows. “Thank you?” he said, glancing behind him at the bed. “It was…expensive.”

“I mean, hey! We spend a lot of our lifetime in a bed, right? Might as well shell out some cash for quality.”

“What are we doing?” Grian asked quickly, almost like he was talking to himself, hands pressed to his head in utter bafflement. “This is insane, what is happening.”

“Grian! Don’t be rude,” Scar admonished playfully, then turned back to grin at the ghost. “Mumbo Jumbo, right?”

The man nodded faintly. “Just…Mumbo is fine.”

“Sweet! I’m Scar,” Scar said, and then started pointing to his friends, all standing stock still in various stages of shock and confusion. “The rude one who throws stuff is Grian, that’s Impulse by the window, and over there is Skizz!”

“Nice to meet you?” Mumbo said, glancing around nervously. “I would offer to shake your hand, but…”

“God, this is weird,” Skizz blurted, eyes still wide but starting to relax his stance. “You do know you’re dead, right? We never actually get to ask any of the ghosts we meet.”

“Oh, I— Yeah, I’m well aware,” Mumbo said, laughing a little. “You’ve met other ghosts, then?”

“We’re ghost hunters,” Impulse said, and now that the shock was fading, Scar could see a spark of excitement in his eyes. “But I mean— We’ve never met any like you.”

“Mostly they want to kill us,” Grian said, stepping up next to Scar. “Are you sure you don’t want to kill us?”

“I don’t think I know how, much less want to,” Mumbo said, glancing out the window. “Did someone call you to find me? I’ve been trying not to scare anyone, but I suppose the lights might’ve done me in.”

“Yeah, that was pretty much what tipped them off,” Scar said apologetically. “A few too many weird things happen and boom, here we are.”

“What happens now?” Mumbo asked, chuckling nervously. “I mean, you found me. Job done, yeah?”

“Usually we figure out what type of ghost it is and the company sends out a specialized team to evict it,” Impulse answered, brow pinched in thought. “But normally that’s for safety reasons. You don’t seem like a threat. No offense.”

“Oh, none taken.”

“Can I ask how you died?” Skizz asked, eyes alight with curiosity. 

“Skizz,” Grian hissed. “You can’t just ask people how they died!”

“I was just wondering!”

“No, it’s— it’s fine,” Mumbo stuttered, and Scar had a feeling that if ghosts could blush, he would be doing it. “I… fell down the stairs.”

Scar nodded solemnly. “Could have happened to anyone.”

“So what are we actually going to do about this?” Grian asked, vaguely gesturing at the room. “It feels like it would be wrong to kick this guy out of his own house. He’s not really causing trouble.”

“Yeah, I— I do like my house,” Mumbo interjected, awkward smile on his face. “I’d rather stay, if that’s alright.”

“Someone’s bound to move in eventually, you know,” Skizz said, pitying frown on his face. “There’s already a for sale sign in the yard. The new owners might not be super ghost-friendly.”

Mumbo’s shoulders slumped, a dejected look on his face as he frowned at the floor. Scar felt a pang of sympathy grow in his chest, and he glanced out the window at the rows of houses down the street. 

It really was quite a nice neighborhood. 

“...You know,” Scar started, gaze drifting over to Grian, a slow smile forming on his face. “Our lease is almost up.”

Grian looked over at him, eyes already resigned, and sighed. 

Scar laughed, grinning, and Mumbo slowly smiled back.

[revanhaed]

i love ur artstyle sm<3333 free draaw!

super platonic gabenath cuddles 🫶

[leifygreeens]

hello! ^_^ can i ask for the bachelors/ettes love languages both giving and receiving thank you! <3

(Gary Chapman, the man who came up with this theory, is a Not Great™ person, and his theory is filled with justification for misogyny and other general weirdness. The podcast If Books Could Kill did a fantastic episode on it in April of 2023, you can find it on Spotify or Apple Podcasts under The 5 Love Languages.)

I had a lot of fun with this! I will admit I kinda ditched the OG categories, but I did stick with the theme and overall you can probably figure out where everyone would land anyway. But MORE IMPORTANTLY, thank you for your request, anon. I appreciate you and I hope you enjoy this! Also this is really fucking long!! Almost 5k words!!! Holy fuck!!!!

Everyone say thank you to my best friend and editor in chief @lendelleaves for helping me with this. (I love you! <3)

Sam is a very tactile person, and I’ve said this before, but like a giant puppy who does not know he is giant, Sam likes sprawling himself all over you, no matter where you are. If you’re lounging anywhere together, his head is in your lap and his thumb is rubbing back and forth over your thigh. There have been many times when he nearly knocked out on top of you on the couches at the saloon, but his favorite place to sprawl all over you is at home.

He often traps you on the couch, and it’ll take a lot of bargaining and bribing to get him up—make no mistake though, he knows when not to push it. Sam is so observant when it comes to family, and he learns to read you quickly. He knows when you’re lying, or when you might be pretending to be okay, and is quickly able to discern whether you need support, or some space. 

When you don’t need space, Sam talks. And talks. And talks. He’ll fill up a silence like nobody’s business, or drag you out to exist in the world when you’re feeling like abandoning everything. When things are really bad though, Sam takes the reins and runs things for you. In the early stages of your relationship, he wasn’t very confident helping around the household, but he’s stepped up, and he’s gotten quite good at it.

Growing up with Jodi as a mother allowed him the space to dick around and act like a slob, and he’s a little ashamed of the way he took advantage of her. You try to remind him he was a teenage boy for a lot of that time, but he’s determined not to continue that cycle, and so his favorite part is cleaning—yes, you heard me right. He loves cleaning, because it makes him feel responsible, and it also lightens your load. When the dishes are cleared after meals, or when he’s taken care to sweep and steam the floors, he adores the feeling of productivity and accomplishment afterward. While he doesn’t expect any praise or compensation for it, he does cherish the moment when you realize you have time to relax (in a clean home, no less). He doesn’t ever want to sense the same regret from you that he did from his mother.

Sebastian struggles with verbal shows of affection, and tends to express his love with actions rather than words, but he’s kind of subtle about it. It took you a while to figure out what he was trying to say when he did these kinds of things. Sebastian is the type to cut up a plate of fruit for you after a long day working on the farm, and hand it to you wordlessly. He’ll help you unlace your work boots, rub any aches or cramps out of your feet, and make you a cup of tea—anything that could help you unwind. 

He loves taking you on dates! He’s taken you quite a few places on his bike, and while he’s not a huge fan of overcrowded places, he can handle them a little more easily with you by his side. You’ve gone bowling, to the arcade, mini-golfing (which he was surprised to find he absolutely sucked at), and to a few theme parks as well. He feels braver with you around, and his confidence has definitely improved since you met. He’s not concerned with the people that stare at you while you’re in public, because he knows without a shred of doubt that you’re not interested. Especially when you buy a funnel cake to share and wipe chocolate from the corner of his lips, or win him cheap plushies at a festival. He’s got a little collection of those going, by the way (and he’s named them all after fantasy characters, obviously).

When you’re not around, Sebastian likes to play some of the voicemails you’ve left him. He never clears them from his inbox, just so he has something to remind him of you when he’s lonely, and it may or may not have resulted in his inbox being completely full more than a few times. In a similar vein, his favorite messages from you are videos and voice notes, and whether you’re telling him about your day, showing off a successful harvest, or just popping in to say hello, he replays every message at least four times before melting into a puddle. 

Sebastian worried you might think it’s creepy, but he has a folder on his computer just dedicated to you, full of photos, videos, and voice recordings. He also has a candid photo of you in his wallet and refuses to talk about it, but one time you showed up at his place and found him sitting on his bed staring at it. You still don’t know how long he was like that for, and he adamantly refutes your claims of seeing him doing it at all. The walls of Seb’s office are covered top to bottom in pictures of you, and you’re pretty sure that all of his devices have you as the homescreen. It’s terribly endearing.

Alex likes spending time with you. Whether it be brushing your teeth together, doing the laundry, or loading up the shipping bin with your products and produce for the day, he’s calm as long as you’re nearby. He likes the physical reminders of your presence as well—stained coffee mugs sitting in the sink after you leave to work in the fields, the residual smell of you clinging to his clothing after you steal it, your personal items scattered around the living room, and anything else you leave in your wake. He wants to spend time with you constantly, but when that isn’t realistic, he walks into the bedroom and flops onto your side of the bed, just to shove his face into your pillow and inhale the smell of you.

When you are together, he’s always holding you. Whether it’s excitedly swinging you around in a circle in the entryway after you get back from work, gluing himself to your back while you waddle around the kitchen making dinner, or even walking through town together, he’s got to have his arms around you in some way. Granted, he’s not huge on PDA, unless someone stares at you too long and he wants to make a point, but he loves hugs, and especially playing with your hands! Rubbing his thumbs over the backs of your hands, threading and rethreading your fingers together, swinging your hands back and forth while walking through town, and making sure to remind you about the existence of hand cream when it’s the thick of winter.

Granny Evelyn was always very pointedly teaching him how to take care of his personal hygiene, so you can trust that he learned from the best of the best. When he is messing with your hands, you often find him admiring your calluses. He loves how strong your hands are; he says it’s a testament to your hard work and dedication. 

His life is so much better with you in it, and he’s finally comfortable just existing. Of course he still cares about gridball, but the guilt he felt about never going pro has dissipated, and he’s perfectly content in his life with you. He does wish he could’ve properly introduced you to his mom, but when you smile down at him in the morning, he likes to think the sunlight kissing the top of your head through the window is his mother’s way of showing her approval.

Elliott has a wonderful way with words, but if you want my professional opinion, this man gets tongue tied whenever you’re too forward with him. The more blunt you are, the more red in the face he gets. He’s always up in the clouds, and having someone like you there to ground him so solidly in reality switches his entire perception of love and attraction. It’s such a strong juxtaposition, against what he thought he liked, that many tropes within the romance genre have actually started to irritate him—love at first sight is probably the worst offender—and it affects the way he writes his own characters as well. 

Make no mistake, he’s still very much head-over-heels for you, but he doesn’t idolize you the way he did when you first met. There’s something so overwhelmingly human about you, to him, and he loves every part of it. 

So, he compliments you constantly—but almost always about something mundane or silly. The way your eyes look all droopy and clouded with sleep in the mornings, the way toothpaste surrounds your mouth while you’re brushing your teeth, or when you occasionally get your jacket pocket caught on a door handle and get jerked back with the force of hurricane level winds—and once, when you were struggling to put on your boots before a full day of work, and you tripped and toppled over in the entryway. You made the silliest sound as you went down, and even though he was quick to help you up and check you over for any potential bumps or bruises, he was laughing fondly to himself for the rest of the day. 

Even the way you look rumpled and filthy after a long trip in the mines makes him soft, and he always makes sure to tell you how wonderful you are. With your influence, he’s allowed himself to abandon his forced persona of perfection, and he’s never felt so authentic and comfortable in himself. He’s free to just be, and he’s eternally grateful to you, because you’ve shown him what love is supposed to be.

Shane always checks on the animals with you in the mornings, and he likes the physical labor that comes with repairing things or clearing debris from the farm on the first day of a new season. He’ll happily repair a fence or pathing, and he’s becoming more of a DIY expert himself the longer he lives on the farm with you. Shane is aware of how overworked you were when it was just you running the farm, and taking half of the shit off your plate makes him feel productive and useful—it gives him a little more purpose. He feels guilty about some of the habits he’s still holding on to, sometimes, but waking up next to you every day reminds him just how much makes life worth living. 

He gets a little down when there’s nothing to do on the farm, so if you want him to have a little more pep in his step, you know to ask him to do the usual chores while you dive down into the mines for the day. You do this the most often in winter, when the crops in the greenhouse aren’t ready for harvesting. He’s grateful for the work, and the knowledge that you trust him to take care of things while you’re fighting monsters makes him feel fulfilled. 

After a long day in the fields and with the animals, he likes lounging around before bed with you. His cheeks get so pink when you rub his back and give him massages, and when you shove a hand under his shirt while cuddling to rub his belly. He enjoys talking to you about anything and everything, and there have been a few late mornings because the two of you stayed up past midnight talking. 

He’s gotten pretty good at cooking, too! With all the extra time and a lot more of a sense of purpose in his life, he’s allowed himself to build interest in things he didn’t used to have the energy or time for, and that includes cooking. Make no mistake, he’s still comfortable with popping a frozen dinner in the microwave when neither of you have the time or energy to make a meal from scratch, but he’s become quite the chef! He tries to cook dinner for the two of you at least a few times a week, and he melts a little inside when you do the food dance after trying any of his recipes. He’ll smile so wide, and the tips of his ears will turn peachy-pink if you dare compliment his cooking, so you make sure to do it as often as possible. 

Harvey is always feeding you and making sure you’re dressed appropriately for the weather. He will absolutely run out the door after you in his robe and slippers if you forget a scarf, and a portion of your backpack space is reserved for the lunchboxes he makes you in the mornings. When you come back from the mines, regardless of how well it went or not, you have to let him give you a mini-checkup. He will not be able to sleep soundly if you don’t let him look you over, and he will nag you the entire time. He’s never mean about it, and he doesn’t treat you like a child, but it typically lasts fifteen to twenty minutes, and he might get weepy if he finds out you’ve been hurt. 

He’s just afraid for your safety, and he doesn’t want his life to go back to the dull and lonely repetitiveness it was before. Despite all of that, though, he’s calmed down quite a bit. He still has anxiety, but he’s no longer choked by it, and he’s relieved to have someone in his corner who can help ground him when his brain gets a little too ramped up.

He’s still totally socially awkward, though. He loves to hold your hand, but can’t do much more than that in public, because all of his blood rushes to his face and it makes him dizzy. He loves taking walks on the beach with you, and is the type to draw a heart in the sand with a stick and put your initials in it, but he’ll immediately scribble it out if you make a big deal out of it. 

In private, Harvey is a huge fan of parallel play activities; if you’re at the dining table reading a book, he’s probably going over medical papers or reading about fighter planes beside you. He doesn’t usually speak during these quiet moments, but occasionally he’ll reach over to grab your free hand and pull it up to his lips for a quick kiss. If you whine about needing your hand back, he purposely tickles your hand with his mustache and won’t let you pull away until he gets a real, full smile out of you. Since being with you, his life has become more rich and lively, and he gets more excited about things that would’ve gotten nothing more than a mild smile out of him in the past. You really have changed his whole life.

Maru pays really close attention to anything you express the slightest interest in. If you mention a particular candy that you’ve become obsessed with, she buys a full box the next day. If you mention liking a particular recipe, she’ll make it as often as possible until you get sick of it, and then she’ll move onto the next interest. The few times you took her to the city to visit your family, she made sure to take note of anything you looked at twice in any shop so she could buy it for you later. She’s surprised you with plenty of gifts this way, but there have also been a few times where she made the thing herself, and was very proud to say that her version was both better and worked smoother. 

Your farm has become a lot more automated, due to the sheer amount of tech and machines she’s built. She wants to make the harvesting process as smooth and as light in labor as possible, so that you have more time for yourself and your interests. She watched her mother’s physical state deteriorate over the years due to how often she’s lugging giant logs around, and doesn’t want the same thing to happen to you, so she’s constantly looking for new ways to lighten your load. 

She loves info dumping about her newest inventions or discoveries, and her favorite shared activity is stargazing. You commissioned Robin for a rooftop deck shortly after moving in together, and there have been many nights spent up there, with you pointing out different stars to Maru and allowing her to go on and on about nebulae, star systems, and giant interstellar clouds. She loves answering all of your questions, and never belittles you for not knowing something, or for asking an “obvious” question. It helps her brush up on her own knowledge as well! 

Beyond that, she likes roping you into shitty movie marathons. She’ll pop a few bags of popcorn and get out several bowls of snacks, and maybe if you’re feeling frisky she may just bust out a bottle of wine to enjoy between the two of you. She doesn’t think the movies are fantastic, but that’s the point! Her favorite parts are when she looks over at you after a particularly ridiculous scene, and she gets to watch you go through the five stages of grief in as many seconds. You’ve created a fair amount of inside jokes through this little ritual of yours, and it always makes her laugh, no matter how ridiculous the references are.

Penny takes immense care of the farmhouse, and loves decorating and redecorating your spaces. She’s always looking for the coziest pillows, or the prettiest wallpaper, and she includes you in every step of the process. If there’s anything you don’t jive with, or something you want to get done on the house but can never get to with all the other work you’re constantly doing, have no fear, because Penny will either find a contractor (Robin) to complete the project, or she’ll pick up a hammer and do it herself. 

She likes being a homemaker, and she’s good at it, and seeing you enjoy or react positively to any renovations and additions will make her whole month. You especially enjoy the home library she’s curated, because it’s by far the coziest room in the house, and because that’s where she loves to read to you—it’s something of a nightly routine for you both. After you’re finished getting ready for bed, she’ll sit on the thrifted chaise she restored, wait for you to get comfortable against her shoulder, and she’ll read until you’re sleepy enough to go to bed. (Sometimes you do pass out in there though.)

Your library is full of annotated books she’s given you, though she uses sticky notes to avoid writing directly on the pages, she will write an inscription inside the front cover with a short address to you about why she thought you’d like it. It’s pretty sweet, especially when she gives you romance books and explains with bright red cheeks that the main love interest reminded her of you. That’s always a cute moment, even though you’re a little shit sometimes and will quote the love interest in private moments, just to fluster her.

Penny secretly likes it, though—especially when you try to woo her. Whether it be with roses, dates, gifts, or flowery words, she loves every bit of it. Even though you’re together and she isn’t going anywhere, you don’t abandon those habits later on, and it reassures her. She initially figured the effort would be too much for someone as busy as you, but you always make time and plan romantic things for her, and she’s happy to know that her romance novels aren’t wholly fictional. You’re living proof of that.

Abigail has softened up quite a bit during her relationship with you. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still pretty passionate and bullheaded, but overall, she’s much calmer. She’s comfortable being herself and doesn’t feel the need to get defensive about who she is or what her interests are anymore, and it’s opened up a lot of avenues of self expression for her. She tries new things all the time, and she’s never shy about sharing her experiences or the results of them, because she knows you’re not going to judge her for it.

But because she feels so secure with you, she’s much more comfortable showing affection without fear of rejection or humiliation. That said, she stares at you a lot. Before you may have gotten a pillow launched at your face for bringing it up, but now she’s perfectly okay with being caught. She actually uses it to her advantage most of the time, and will take the opportunity to compliment you, like, “What, I can’t stare at the love of my life?” 

She loves flustering you. It’s mostly genuine, but she does do it just to be a little shit sometimes. When you play video games together (especially ones where you’re competing), she’ll grab your face and pull you into a kiss just to get ahead. It works 90% of the time, even when you know what she’s trying to do. She thinks it’s really cute, and loves seeing you get all worked up when she messes with you like that, but sometimes she does get lost in it and will abandon the game entirely.

On a more serious note, Abigail never lets you go down into the mines without her. She hates having to hear from Harvey, and she’d rather be there with you to prevent any accidents or injuries. It’s easier to get through the shafts with a second pair of eyes and another sword handy, so you’re alright with it—and another upside is that you’re never short on ore and coal anymore. When you get out of the mines afterward, she always suggests a dip in the spa. It helps you both relax and recuperate after a lengthy trip, and she gets to see you in a swimsuit. She may like the second part more, but hey, can you blame her? She thinks you’re hot, let her stare a bit more.

Haley is extremely tactile with her affection—she was pretty embarrassed about it at first, and tried to keep it at bay initially, but it caused some problems early on and that talk was not fun, so she doesn’t repress it anymore. If she wants to kiss you, she’ll ask for it, and the same can be said for any other physical affection. She wants you as close as possible a lot of the time, and when you do meet her need for touch, she all but turns into a cat.

She’ll push her face as far into your chest as it’ll go, latch herself onto your torso with all her strength, and if she’s feeling particularly goofy, she’ll jump into your arms like a koala. It’s very silly (and incredibly endearing), and she always giggles uncontrollably when you drop everything you’re doing to support her weight. She always warns you beforehand, and she does know when it isn’t safe or appropriate, so rest assured nothing goes wrong when she does decide to launch herself at you. Her favorite part about those moments is when you finally get a good grip on her. Again, she’s a tactile lover first and foremost, so your touch is going to make her happy no matter what. 

Besides touch, she likes how little you care about her appearance—make no mistake, she does appreciate when you take notice of all the effort she puts into her appearance—but she loves it when you wake her up in the mornings with a kiss, uncaring of her morning breath and eye crust. Like, sure, she grew up attractive and wealthy, and that meant she was popular, but it also meant she was highly criticized for everything she did. She could never have a blemish, a single hair out of place, or an embarrassing moment, and if she did, she’d be verbally torn to shreds. Always the topic of gossip, she learned to close herself off and pretend, pretend, pretend; but with you, she doesn’t need to.

She doesn’t feel the need to go to sleep with a full-face of makeup on, the way she did when she spent the night at her previous boyfriends’ places, and she’s perfectly content lounging around the house with a bare face and a tangled bun piled on top of her head. She can make all the hideous faces she needs to when applying her makeup and not agonize over whether you’ll still love her afterward. You’ve allowed her the space to let loose and let herself be imperfect, and it’s comfortable. She’s happier than she’s ever been, and a lot of it is thanks to you.

Leah is an artist, and it permeates her entire life—including the ways she loves you. She wants to make art out of you in a million ways, especially tactile ones, like braiding your hair or helping you dress yourself. She frequently stops you at the door before you head out for work, and she’ll fix your shirt collar or put your hat on for you, and adjust your hair until it lays perfectly.

She has paintings of you scattered around the house, but they aren’t always portraits. If you look hard enough, you can find hints of her love for you in all the art she creates; a canvas covered in your favorite flowers, a picture painted only with your favorite color, or subtle snapshots of your life together. She does have a portrait of you above her work desk, though, and it is by far her favorite piece. (She has rejected multiple offers for it, and she always will.)

She loves working on her art projects while you watch, and it’s become something of an inconsistent routine for the both of you. It started after dinner one night, when she was cracking down on a deadline for a commission, but you still wanted to keep her company. Not wanting to leave you hanging, she grabbed two glasses of wine, and you sat comfortably on her studio couch while she painted the piece for her client. She never demands silence from you in these moments, but when you are quiet, it’s easier for her to fall into the cozy atmosphere. Her work often feels less stressful with you watching, because if she gets overwhelmed or irritated with stubborn mediums, she can just flop next to you and take her mind off of the problem.

When you’re not home and she has no immediate commissions, she paints tiny hidden meadows on your furniture: on the bottom leg of your dining table, the inside door of a dish cabinet, the underside of your desk, the top of your front door, and even around the farm as well. She’s always so excited when you find another mini-meadow, and it’s like a special treasure hunt for the two of you. She’s gotten pretty good at hiding them, and she’s quite sneaky about it—except for the one time she fell into the pig pen trying to paint on the rafters in the barn—but that’s neither here nor there. (Don’t let her find the picture on your phone!)

Emily is like a crow. You’ve developed a mini collection of random trinkets, rocks, sea glass, shells, and feathers over the course of your relationship, all found and gifted to you by Emily. She sees a pretty shiny thing and immediately thinks of you. Sometimes she follows you around during your daily errands, just to keep you company. She absolutely steps in to lighten your load when you need it (or rather, when you let her), but usually she’s fine just listening to you talk, and vice versa.

She also likes taking care of you. Emily makes her own homemade soap and body oils, and if you’re ever worn out after a particularly long day, she’ll set up a mini-spa for you, and pamper you for however long it takes to wring out any lingering aches and pains. She’ll bust out dried flower petals and draw a bath for you, making sure to light candles and turn on a diffuser filled with calming oils to help you relax while you bathe. She doesn't want you to lift a single finger, and she may go so far as to dress and feed you after a bath; she likes to use warming oils and massage your entire body before bed. It’s both very vulnerable and incredibly relaxing—but that is her goal, after all—and she always finishes off her pampering with a healthy dose of kisses pressed all over your face.

While not everyone has as strong a connection to the spiritual side of the world, Emily does—and she likes sharing that with the people she cares about. Regardless of whether or not someone believes in the same things she does, she likes to look over your birth chart and horoscopes together, and sometimes she’ll do a tarot card reading for you, just for fun. She’s aware that people think she’s weird for being into these things, but you’ve never shut her down or made fun of her for her interests, and she’s both grateful and overwhelmed by how it makes her feel. No one else has taken such care to understand her, and she feels safe enough to be her most authentic self when you’re around each other. 

It’s also why she likes to dance with you! Whether it be a little dance-off in the kitchen while you’re preparing dinner together, or a slow dance in the living room, or even acting like nutcases at the saloon after a few too many drinks, she’ll have fun as long as it’s with you. She always has fun when it’s with you.

[boltlightning]

For the prompt drabbles: Hector Barbossa + Jack Sparrow. 23.- Cat. Please and thank you 😁

23. cat

“We’ll be out of drinking water soon, and rum near after that,” Barbossa reports, hands on his hips, “and a crew without their rum be not a happy and loyal one, but a cruel and mutineering one. D'ya have any brilliant plans brought from the brink?”

Jack shrugs infuriatingly, setting his sandy boots up on the Black Pearl’s stateroom table. “Rats,” he says simply. “When a ship sails, there’s rats, even sailing from the bloody Locker—I heard them scuffling around this morning meself. We could set the men to catching ‘em and drink their blood. It’s moisture, innit?”

Jack had also, apparently, brought a black and unhelpful humor with him from the land of the dead.

“If only Master Jones had given you a cat to hunt them for us, too. Jack,” Barbossa adds more sweetly, cloyingly, wearing an expression that is less a smile and more a threat, “I wish I didn't have to remind ye, but if you want to be called Captain, you must captain the ship,” and grabs Jack by the scruff of his neck and shoves him out onto the deck.

send me a prompt, get a drabble! ✨

[waterfallofspace]

💐🎋⏰ for sskk with aku as snzr pls? tysm if you do it!

So this only took me foRevER to answer- I'm so sorry!! But finally got enough motivation to get around to answering these!~

So here's a little drabble, thank you so much for sending in the prompt! And I'm sorry it took so long haha~ First time writing in a while now, so my apologies if it's a little disjointed!~

💐fits 🎋itchy nose/throat/ears ⏰inopportune from ~This Post~

Word Count: 1.8k Characters: A/ku, A/tsushi, mentions of D/azai and M/ori ~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone else had asked, Akutagawa would have unleashed Rashōmon on them. Or, perhaps still follow the order, but the company would have been refused. Firmly refused. The mortifying ordeal of being out in a public space in the dead of spring is bad enough. But Jinko being here to witness the… results-

“hH- nGT’uh!” 

This was definitely Dazai’s doing. No one else had all of the key ingredients to this misery. Sway over Mori’s choices, knowledge of the meeting place, a hold over the weretiger, and most pressingly, knowledge of Akutagawa’s… situation. 

“S-sorry, I didn’t catch that, what did you say?” 

Akutagawa turns his attention back to the task at hand, pointedly ignoring Atsushi’s question, and direct stare. Obnoxious on the best of days, which this was decidedly not. They had been sent to the park in search of some sort of information. 

“What exactly are we looking for?” Akutagawa asks, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone. 

Atsushi offers an awkward smile in return, hand scratching the back of his head. “Well, see that’s just it, I’m not exactly sure… Dazai said it would be here, and well, he’s never wrong, but…” 

“He didn’t say what it was or where it would be.”

“Nope, not a word.” 

Akutagawa sighs, flinching against the wave of itch crawling its way down his throat. It’s the worst kind of itch, one so deep in your ears, the back of your throat, you know you couldn’t touch it even if you stuck your entire hand in your mouth. 

Settling for a vague noise of disapprovement, he sets off in the general direction of what appears to be a fountain. Good a place as any to start, especially if it puts some distance between the wereti-

“Hey, wait up!” Atsushi calls, tagging along barely behind. 

Akutagawa grimaces, but slows his pace. 

“Thanks,” Atsushi smiles, plainly false. No one can be that happy having to cluelessly search a park, especially with your rival that’s been trying to kill you since you met. Let’s face it, neither of them was happy to be here.

“You thinking of looking at the fountain?” Atsushi continues, that optimistic tone grating on Akutagawa’s last intact nerve. “That’s where I’d hide information. Easy to describe to people who need to find it.” 

“Novice. h’ngKT!” 

The stifle leaves him breathless, the buzzing feeling in his sinuses promising this wasn’t even close to the end. Against all odds, Atsushi seems not to have noticed, his attention pulled towards a couple passing by. 

“Excuse me, where’s the best place to meet someone here?” 

The couple offered some vague responses, Akutagawa ducking into his coat for a semblance of privacy, uttering a few horrible noises. It’s the only way to scratch the back of your throat, touch that itch, but it’s not exactly subtle.

Thankfully no one noticed, Atsushi jumping from person to person, eager smiles and genuine politeness. It’s sickening. Choosing a more contained approach, Akutagawa lets his eyes wander, tracing the landscape. 

Mori’s words echo in his mind, “A simple task. After all, you’re a trained member of the Port Mafia. Trained by Dazai no less.” 

Somehow a compliment, and a deep burn. The respect their boss continues to hold for the deserter is only rivaled by the desire to be noticed clawing against the back of Akutagawa’s pride. And yet, somehow he picked… him. 

The ‘him’ in question is currently half wading through a fountain. Oblivious to the art of subtly, or simply choosing to disregard it entirely.

With a hissed sigh, and a frantic sniffle as the action sets off a new round of itch throughout his swollen sinuses, Akutagawa makes his way towards Atsushi. Everyone around them seems more concerned with staring at him than the one practically swimming in a fountain. 

Have they never seen someone with allergies before?! Akutagawa barely manages to catch a cough in his throat, feeling his tongue tense as the action ripples throughout his chest. He’s almost at the fountain when he feels a tap on his arm. 

A woman stands, looking at him with a mixture of concern and disapproval, and... of course. 

“Wearing this much dark clothing out in the sun is extremely irresponsible and dangerous.” 

Akutagawa barely has time to process her concerns, his focus overtaken by the overwhelming scent of pollen drifting from the flowers strewn throughout her hair. That, mixed with the aroma of freshly cut grass that she must have been rolling in to have gotten so coated with it. 

He manages a choked, “mind your own business” before breaking his coat from her grasp, and continuing his frantic pace to the fountain. The woman shrugs it off with a huff, speeding away, but the damage has been done.

“ngXT-! ah’tNgt’ch!” 

A few stifles break loose from his grip, Akutagawa’s hand snapping to his face instinctively. Pinching his nose, he managed to contain another rapid set, control wearing off at an alarming pace. 

“Oh hey, Akutagawa!” Atsushi calls once Akutagawa enters earshot. “I don’t think it’s in the fountain, I’ve searched all over- Oh! Unless it’s underwater, though… how would papers…” 

“They migh- kNgt’ch!” Akutagawa feels a faint flush settle over his cheeks at the interruption, but he continues with a growl before Jinko can get a word out. “They might not be papers. I was only told to intercept ‘information’, and you weren’t given any further clarifications.” 

Atsushi pauses, scratching his head with a sheepish smile. “Oh, I guess you’re right! In that case, maybe it’s some sort of coin? People tend to toss a lot of them into the fountain.” 

Another set of stifles break free as Akutagawa swivels on his heel, attempting to shield the outburst best he can. Turning back, it seems he was successful, Atsushi diving headfirst back into the fountain on his coin mission. Sighing, Akutagawa tosses a piece of advice over his shoulder.

“You should look for- nNgt! ah’knCH! Look for foreign coins, something recognizable, but not too obviously out of place.” 

“Yeah!” Atsushi smiles, turning his attention back to Akutagawa. “That’s a good idea! You want to help?” 

“Not in the slightest.” 

As he attempts to maintain his composure, Akutagawa feels another wave of itch overcome his throat, a vague growl slipping out before he can help it.

“Are- are you okay, Akutagawa?” 

“Yes,” Akutagawa snaps back, bringing the back of his hand up to his mouth to fake a cough.

Atsushi seems hesitant, but nods and returns to his search. Minutes pass, ticking by like hours as Akutagwa attempts to hold off another scratch of the desperate itch beginning to crawl deeper into his ears. Finally he can’t stand it anymore and he lets out another deep growl, covering it with a pathetically ticklish cough. 

Unfortunately, he realizes far too late that action will set off a chain reaction, his nose bursting with a newfound need.

“nNgh’tch! hehh– hH’YIZshhuh! ayEZSHhh’uu! zschh– yiszhh– yizzschh’uu!” 

This time they break through, the last ones tumbling over each other in a dizzying frenzy of desperate irritation. This will be harder to play off as a mild lung condition. 

“Oh- Akutagawa are you okay? Do you need hel-” 

Atsushi is cut off by a blow from Rashōmon, Akutagawa glaring at him from behind his sleeve.

“Do not mistake my suffering for weakness, Jinko. I am more than capable of holding my own.” 

The words would have carried more weight, had the congestion lacing them not left him sounding a touch pathetic. Nonetheless, he pulls himself together long enough to release his nose, snap something about ‘checking around’, and rush off to another section of the park. 

Letting a congestion moan slip from his lips, Akutagawa digs his heels into his eyes again, wiping away some stray tears as the irritation releases itself in yet another disgusting display.

“knGNT-! ngt– nGXT– hH’kNGXt’zshh! hhih… hh’nGHtchh! huH’ZYESHh! yIEZSHh’uu!  ” 

The sneezes tear out from his throat, a bit sore and yet unbelievably satisfying. They not only scratch the mad itch in his sinuses, but leave his throat feeling mildly relieved. 

This relief is cut short as a hand brushing against his back nearly scares him out of his skin.

“Bless you!” 

Akutagawa rolls his eyes, muttering something about ‘western customs’ between the frantic hitching of his breath. Atsushi averts his eyes, at least offering the semblance of privacy as Akutagawa ducks into his chest with a rapid fit that barely gives him time to breathe. 

“tsshh– tzshh– izshh– yzshh– yieZShh’uu!” 

These ones do nothing to relieve any itch, instead they almost seem to spread it deeper. After a minute of awkwardly standing there, Atsushi seems unable to resist commenting. His mouth opens and closes a few times, unable to find the words.

Akutagawa, on the other hand, couldn’t say anything about this if he wanted to. 

“We- zshh– ah’YZShh! I ndeed- tzzshh– ezshh– iZShh’uu!” The words are lost between frantic gasps and rapid fits. Atsushi offers a few more blessings, Akutagawa barely managing a harsh glare through the water in his eyes.

Finally, after what feels like forever, a last “yiEZZSHh’uu!” breaks him out of it, giving him a minute to catch his breath. 

“Bless you, Akutagawa. Those are some bad allergies-”

As soon as the word leaves his lips, they both know he’s made a mistake. Spoken something that should have been left unsaid. Before he can start backpedaling, and inevitably make it worse, Akutagawa takes control of the situation.

“Are you going to show me what you found, or just stand here all day?”

“R-right! Sorry,” Atsushi gives that same sheepish smile again, and for a second Akutagawa almost feels- well, nevermind that. Taking the reprise from the burden of speaking, he lets Atsushi begin rambling on about the coin, and something to do with codes. 

“heH’ZSHHuu!”

“Oh, bless you!”

Another eye roll, followed by another “zSHhh! yiEZSHhh’uu!” 

Which of course is followed by another blessing. 

This pattern continues for a few minutes, Atsushi futilely attempting to explain the code and offer enough blessings for Akutagawa’s ever increasing allergy attack.

“Hey,” Atsushi suddenly offers, tone switching to something softer, “how about I just fill you in back in the detective agency?” 

“If you- ih’ZZSHh! tZSHh! If you think I’m setting foot in that-” 

“Then how about the Port Mafia offices? I doubt they’d kill me on site, seeing as they sent us here together for this.” 

Akutagawa rolls his eyes, but nods. It would be foolish at this point to not accept the offer. And besides… It's much better than showing up like this in front of Dazai.

“Alright, but I won’t promise no harm will come to you. In fact, it may come by my own hand.” 

But as they begin their walk, Atsushi handing over a pack of tissues, Akutagwa lets that thought slip from his mind. Maybe the weretiger isn’t so bad after all.

[spacenintendogs]

For the doodle requests, snotlout and astrid making out gross pls🥺 I love them in your art style..

say less

[averlym]

hi hi hi! not sure if youre still taking requests but.. could i get some parrward? I adore your art style and im so glad youve been alive and active again!! I remember I found your acc back in 2019-2020 and I got curious looking at my old acc and I had SO many of your posts liked- and here we are now! Hope life is treating you well ! :)

hihihi!!! some parrward for you <33 i hope life is treating you well too!

[panthermouthh]

Hi, fellow Frankenstein fan here, and I just wanted to ask if you know about Sparknotes version of Frankenstein and if you could maybe draw their version of Adam pls if you have the time?

I love all your Frankenstein art too it’s so cool you’re my favorite Adam artist!!!!🥰🥰🥰🥰😊😊😊❤️❤️❤️❤️👍👍👍👍🔥🔥🔥🔥🌸🌸🌸🌸

Sparknotes version of Frankenstein? I don’t really know what that is lol I’m sorry

[desertduality]

Scar & Grian (platonic) movie night for a writing prompt ^^

Okay this one I can actually classify as a snippet ajksdkj it's just under 500 words. I hope you like it!! :D

----------

“I brought blankets!”

Scar’s triumphant call is the only warning Grian gets before the world goes dark, several pounds of fluffy knitted wool landing directly on his head. Grian grunts and sputters as fibers stick to his tongue, flailing his limbs in an attempt to remove himself from the impromptu bindings. He surfaces with a gasp, blankets falling into a pile behind him, hair staticky and sticking up at odd angles. He whips his head around to glare at Scar, standing behind him doubled over in breathless laughter. 

“Just for that,” Grian says, turning back to fiddle with the projector. “I get to choose the movie.”

Scar’s laughter cuts off comically fast, and Grian has to bite his cheek to suppress his own giggling, giddy excitement bursting behind his ribcage. It’s way too fun to rile Scar up. 

“What, no!” Scar cries, and Grian doesn’t even have to look to know he’s doing his best begging eyes. “You said you’d watch Star Wars with me! You pinky promised, Grian!”

“One of those blankets was weighted, Scar. You could have killed me,” Grian says, turning around, and— Yep, there were the eyes. He steadfastly ignored them. “Or worse, you could have broken the projector.”

“Fine,” Scar replies, sitting down crosslegged with a huff, leaning back against the couch and starting to remove his leg braces. “Movie night is sacred. I won’t throw things on movie night.”

“Any other time is fair game,” Grian agrees, nodding, grabbing the remote and scooting backwards until he’s next to Scar. “Alright, which one was it that you wanted to watch?”

“We should marathon,” Scar suggests brightly, producing a bag of popcorn out of thin air and loudly opening it. “We can start with the first one. Not the prequels, the actual first movie.”

“Just a heads up, I will be falling asleep,” Grian warns, clicking onto the first movie and tugging blankets over them both. “And that is not an invitation to draw on my face.”

“Make it through the first movie, at least, and I’ll spare you,” Scar jokes, flinging a piece of popcorn at him with a cheeky grin. “If you don’t, I do have a sharpie with me. Be warned.”

“I can’t believe you plan for this stuff,” Grian complains, rolling his eyes with a quiet laugh. “I’ll try, Scar. Happy?”

“Do or do not,” Scar says imperiously, eyes flashing with gleeful mischief. “There is no try.”

“You are insufferable.”

“I love you, too!”

Grian shoves Scar lightly on the shoulder, both of them with amused grins on their face, and popcorn bounces out of the bag onto their laps. Just a typical movie night, really.  Leaning back into the couch cushions, Grian points the remote and presses play. The bold yellow text starts scrolling down the screen, music blaring from the speakers, and Scar cheers. Grian sighs, longsuffering and fond, and sets the remote down on the ground.

(He wakes up in the morning with poorly drawn cat whiskers on his face, looks down at Scar snoring on the floor next to him, and happily returns the favor.)

[spoiledleaff]

Leafy....

I neeeeeeeeeeed. Neeeeeeeeed Rain and Dew in a cheer/pleated short short skirt with Mountain or the ghoulettes teasing them and then taking them apart.

i didn’t realize i needed this as well until i started typing it out… haha, well, regardless! i hope this suits your expectations, dear anon!! ♡ be warned… it gets a bit spicy below the cut ;)

Dewdrop laughed as he watched Rain twirl in front of their mirror, the green pleated fabric swirling around their long, long legs just enough to curse the fire’s sin with a cheeky glimpse of their ass.

It was just moments ago when the little imp had practically knocked down Rain’s door with his bunched up fist, two pairs of skirts bundled up in the other. He definitely didn’t swipe these skimpy little articles of clothing, and he definitely didn’t plan on using them for nefarious purposes.

When Rain finally answered their own damn door, Dewdrop jumped their very bones, crowding them back into the confines of their own room to employ his hell-gifted serpent’s tongue. Well, needless to say, the rest is history as Dewdrop picks at the tiny fabric of his own cerulean skirt, giddy as he watches Rain admire themselves in the mirror. He can already feel slick drooling from his core.

“So,” they drawl, a perfectly thick eyebrow already raised at Dewdrop’s reflection, “what’s this all about, little droplet?”

Said ghoul has the audacity to look offended, a dramatic plume of smoke rising away from his body as he gawked at the water nymph’s reflection.

“You sound so fucking suspicious.” Dewdrop accuses, but the gently sway of his crooked tail quickly dispelled any illusions of genuine anger. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Rain simply huffs, fiddling with something Dewdrop couldn’t quite see. “You never just bring me gifts, droplet. You’ve probably already done something you’re not supposed to, or you’re about to do something you’re not supposed to.”

Dewdrop simply rolls his shoulders, flicking off some imaginary speck of lint from his thigh. He tries to ignore the death stare Rain is giving him through their reflection, but the fire’s sin can only stay doused for so long.

“Hey,” Dewdrop perked up, although Rain didn’t miss the mischievous glint in those ice blue eyes, “I think Mountain and the ladies are in the commons. Let’s go take their breath away—“

And, again, Dewdrop pounced on the poor fucker before they could even get a proper word in. They were spouting some shit about “needing to get changed” and “this skirt is much too short”, but Rain didn’t have any issues with it when Dewdrop originally slammed open their door. What’s the big deal now?

They found the aforementioned ghouls in the commons, suspiciously exactly like how Dewdrop described them. Mountain and the ghoulettes were all piled together on the couch, Sunshine and Cirrus practically mounting the other two as they watched whatever was playing and chatted quietly amongst themselves.

But, when they saw Dewdrop — clad in nothing but his usual black undershirt and the short blue pleated skirt — dragging behind him a very flustered Rain — wearing even less than the little gremlin yanking them forward. Naively thinking this was nothing more than an innocent dress-up date, Rain was wearing the green skirt, a pair of boxers, and nothing else — the cuddle session on the couch halted, and all eyes were on them.

“Look.” Dewdrop smiles, as if they weren’t already fucking looking. “Rainy and I got new skirts. You like ‘em?”

The ghoulettes’ attentions leered towards Rain, but Mountain was still staring at the small sliver of Dewdrop’s belly as his shirt managed to hitch itself upwards. Rain’s face rapidly develops a vibrant indigo hue, and they quickly avert their eyes down and start to pull at the hem of their slutty little skirt. Dewdrop watches with a manic grin as Rain flounders under the scrutiny of the ghoulettes, the grip he has around their wrist stays clenched and tight as he drinks in every embarrassed gesture.

Rain is always so pious, so regal in their stance. Even on stage, as they sometimes fumble about like a fish on land, Rain still carries this impossible air of elegance. And, even when they’re fucking into Dewdrop with reckless abandon, or stringing him along on some impossibly mindful adventure and spearing the imp on their cock, and doing nothing else but focusing on their equally ragged breathing as their cock twitches against that beautiful spot inside Dewdrop’s vessel— well, even then, the bastard is still so collected.

Dewdrop wants to watch that mask fucking fall.

So, it is with a near concerning amount of glee that Dewdrop watches Cumulus wrap her dainty fingers around Rain’s other wrist, and jerk them forward. Rain collapses with a yelp at the feet of the predatory ghoulettes, their hands already palming at Rain’s thighs and plucking at their waistband. Even from his angle, Dewdrop can so clearly see Rain’s cock jump against its constraints.

“Did you think you could just deposit a Nereid at our feet and leave?” Dewdrop jumps backwards into a hard chest, his crooked tail brushing against bare ankles. There’s a thick claw tilting his head upwards and back, icy blue eyes freezing over at the sight of Mountain’s lazy grin. “And what about this Meliae before me, hm?”

Dewdrop gulps, his throat bobbing underneath Mountain’s tapping claws. There’s another hand gently ghosting up the length of Dewdrop’s suddenly clammy thigh, fingers dipping underneath the skirts hem and tapping, tapping, tapping at his inner thighs; so tantalizingly close. The fire’s sun gasps, his poor, stupid brain still trying to wrap itself around how Mountain moved so quickly and so quietly from his spot on the couch. He was literally underneath Sunshine for Lucifer’s sake.

“Hmm.” Mountain hums, the deep vibrations rumbling through the earth ghoul’s body and spreading through Dewdrop’s back. It would’ve been ominous if Dewdrop wasn’t so fucking aroused right now. “That’s the thing about little nymphs like you, though. You just need a good cock in you to settle the fuck down. Maybe a pussy smothering you until you have no choice but to give in and calm down?”

Through half-lidded eyes, Mountain watches as Dewdrop gulps, his lazy grin nearly splitting through his face as he takes in the little imp’s reactions.

“Liked that, did you?”

Next thing he knows, Mountain’s groping his thighs with one hand, continuously trailing his claws up and down the invisible inseam of his thighs as he squeezes gently at his outstretch throat. Just outside the corners of his vision, Dewdrop can find Sunshine reclining into the couch with a hand gently working her core from underneath the waist band of her lounge wear. Although he cannot see it, Dewdrop can most certainly hear Rain’s pathetic cries and whines as Cirrus and Cumulus no doubt tear them apart.

“Can you hear them?” Mountain growls, his large fingers unwrapping from Dewdrop’s throat and joining the other one down at his thighs; squeezing the scrawny flesh that resides there. “Look at them.”

So Dewdrop did.

Rain is, somehow, still standing in those long, graceful legs of theirs. Cirrus is on her knees behind them, perfectly manicured nails spreading their ass cheeks and diving underneath the hem of the skirt to lick at their asshole. Ever the tag team, Cumulus is seated on the couch, legs spread and fingers sliding up and down her own juicy folds as she takes Rain’s cockhead into her mouth, working the both of them over with intense dedication. Sunshine’s pretty mouth is moving, but Dewdrop can’t hear her last the blood rushing through his ears. Whatever she’s saying though, Dewdrop can hear Rain’s beautiful mewls and squeals as clear as day. They look a mess. They look beautiful.

Mountain observes as Dewdrop stares in awe at the beautiful disaster the ghoulettes are creating, his own arousal spurting hot slick down the meat of his thighs and gently burning Mountain’s squeezing fingers.

“Ah. So you do like that.” Mountain nips at Dewdrop’s smoking ears, breathing in deeply as he goes. “Adorable.”

Dewdrop and Rain have found themselves propped up on either side of the coffee table in the ghoul’s commons, Sunshine’s hands fisted in their hairs as she babbles in about how cute the skirts look hiked up over their asses. She coos about how expressive their tails are as Rain glares daggers into Dewdrop’s flushed visage.

The ghoulettes are still eating them out, Cirrus propped up against the edge of the coffee table and lapping at Rain’s ballsack whereas Cumulus is now fingering the water’s sin open with beautiful fingers and is rubbing herself over the neat of Rain’s ass, whispering and moaning about this skirt is going to be fucking ruined. Just like they will be, soon.

Mountain is rubbing his own blunt cockhead over Dewdrop’s drooling pussy, has been for the last fifteen minutes when they first rounded up their little nymphs into this position. The earth ghoul behinds him keeps alternating between thrusting shallowly through Dewdrop’s slippery folds, and rutting upwards over the crease of the little ghoul’s ass and into the bunched up material of his skirt. He’s cooing something too, but, again, Dewdrop struggles paying attention to anything that isn’t Rain right now.

“Sathanas below, when they’re done with us, I’m fucking your ass into next goddamn month, Dewdrop.” Rain hisses as Cirrus flicks her talented tongue at a certain vein. “You little shit. If you wanted to get laid—“

Dewdrop cackles breathlessly as they cut themselves off, bucking their hips forward and allowing Dewdrop to feel the ruined hem of their skirt from their proximity. Sunshine keeps slowly bringing their faces closer and closer, and soon Dewdrop’s nose is pressed into Rain’s cheek.

“What, you don’t wanna get ruined by three lovely, dashing ladies and dirt boy?” He grins, still manic despite the trills bubbling behind his bared fangs as Mountain just barely pushes into his gaping pussy before retreating again.

“That’s not what I mean, and you— ooh, fuck — and you know it-“ Rain must be getting close, their hips are rutting forward more often and Dewdrop can feel the burns of their pleated skirt against his burning skin more consistently.

“Whatever, little nymph.” Dewdrop gasps, his tongue brushing against Rain’s cheek as Sunshine pushes them closer still. “You’ll thank me later when you get pampered to heaven and back after this, and you know it.”

And Dewdrop watches with wide eyes as Rain shivers, keens, and cums all over Dewdrop’s thighs and their stupid, slutty fucking skirt.

[needystreameredits]

Hi! Could i have more ame sprites?

It's no worries anon, I don't mind! This actually reminded me to look and see if there are any I missed, and it seems I have! I still haven't looked through a playthrough to check for more, but these are ones I found on the wiki

Heres part 1, part 2, part 3, and new part 4

I believe that's all of the gif sprites for Ame, but if there is a missing one lmk!! (And if anyone would like non gif, regular sprites of her and kangel, I could also do that)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hiiiii!!!! i love love LOVE your writing!!!! and i was wondering whether you take requests? maybe just something about gojo trying to make reader laugh after a hard day or something i just know you'd make it so comforting and sweet... ALTHOUGH no pressure if you don't take them then just forget about this and we'll forget i even brought it up dw

hi anon!!!!! tysm first of all, that makes me so happy to hear psjdjjs… 🥺🥺 ur a sweetie!! <3

aaa sadly i dont take requests, BUT!! i do have an old wip that im hoping to finish soon thats kinda similar!! basically just gojo comforting a crying reader :’3

im not sure when ill get it out, but hopefully ull stumble upon it once i do!! ill make sure to put it in my masterlist right away so u can find it!! its very fluffy and comfy so hopefully itll be what ur looking for <33

[herewegobebe]

Hiii! ✨ I'm not sure if you are accepting requests, but I'd love to see gifs of Key on Show! MusicCore MBC230701. I'm just totally obsessed with that performance and he is so fine haha. Love your blog! 💕

Hi! I saw your message late last night and I've just made the set and posted it here. Hope it's what you wanted and thank you for the sweet message <33

[daryascurse]

OOOH MY GOOOD YOUR ZEKE FIC IS SO GOOD im dead on the ground rn im crying im sobbing. keep this up oh my god. much love 💜💜💜💜

🥺 oh thank you so so much!! It's a long time baby of mine; it started on my original account as a one-shot request in 2019 or 2020, and then I've really just kept going with it..! But this does mean that I didn't sketch out the plot very well and I'm kind of hobbling along with it so I really really am so glad if you like it and are following haha!!

also i'm so sorry for a delay in responding i'm just coming back online hehe