#time to work on ask XD

[babyblueetbaemonster]

Quest Failed

[hxhhasmysoul]

Hey so i have been seeing this sukuna hates yuji thing very often and i feel like sukuna is still indifferent to him very much as I don't see difference in his behavior even after chp 248 .

Did I miss something?

I think we see Sukuna’s attitude towards Yuuji quite differently. To me, between the two of them, the person who’s been showing indifference, has been Yuuji. 

In the beginning Yuuji had tried to establish some rapport with Sukuna. He even approached him with some dose of sense of humour right after Sukuna ripped his heart out. 

But the moment he realised Sukuna can’t be reasoned with, when Sukuna refused to help Junpei and mocked Yuuji for asking, Yuuji crossed over to cold hatred. He repeatedly doesn’t let Sukuna bait him. Not when Sukuna blames Yuuji for people’s death in chapter 63, not when Sukuna tries to get Yuuji to keep quiet when they meet Angel. Yuuji just dismisses him. Even Yuuji’s reaction to Shibuya isn’t directed at Sukuna. It’s directed inward. He hates Sukuna but in a passive way, he prioritises other things. Trying to do at least something good after Shibuya, getting Gojou out, saving Megumi. Sukuna is an obstacle, but Yuuji tries to engage with him as little as possible.

The opposite is true for Sukuna. He talks to Yuuji, he tries to actively torment Yuuji and constantly questions Yuuji and his worldview. Tries to mock Yuuji.

I personally don’t like the word hate, when it comes to Sukuna’s attitude towards Yuuji. I think Yuuji unsettles him, causes him discomfort, irks him. Yuuji’s existence and especially perseverance go against what Sukuna believes to be true. He believes that only power matters and those who can’t go toe to toe with the strong are insignificant. He deems their lives to be pointless misery. Yuuji on the other hand cherishes human life, it matters to him on a very personal level. 

And even though Yuuji seems weak to Sukuna, someone not on par with him. Still Yuuji has power over Sukuna, he might be the only one apart from maybe Kenjaku and possibly Tengen that has ever had true power over him. Anyone else he can kill and keep his independence from, but Yuuji. He needed a plan, he needed to trick Yuuji into a binding vow to get out. 

When Sukuna was inside, Yuuji unsettled and irked him. But now Sukuna is slightly drifting towards fascination. He’s been introspecting a bunch after he got out from Yuuji, he asked Yuuji directly why he keeps going. He is trying to understand, while he never does that for Yorozu, Gojou or Kashimo. The groupies don’t interest him because they represent the status quo he’s always believed in. Yuuji is its contradiction, a glitch in the system Sukuna’d lived by before they cohabited a body. Sukuna ignores everyone else who’s jumping him. The only other person who’s sparked his curiosity is Maki. Though with her it’s more of a jujutsu nerd kind of curiosity. Yuuji interests him on a far more personal level. 

Of course he’s trying to put on a dismissive front, he constantly insults and diminishes Yuuji, but he’s also constantly thinking about Yuuji. It’s kinda “the babygirl doth protest too much, methinks”.  Especially that Yuuji is still not giving a rat’s ass about Sukuna. It’s kinda like notice me at this point. Like: I can’t get you out of my head, react to my crude cries for attention.

[cuubism]

I’m BEGGING for more “retired!Dream opens up a weird magic fey bookshop” au. Its so intriguing!

you are in luck. i wrote more

--

"So," Hob says, leaning in the doorway of Dream's study-of-sorts, "much as I love the recommendations, do you mind if I browse?"

He's taken, recently, to meeting Dream on the upper floor of the shop, bringing coffee and watching Dream label and sort his new books in incomprehensible categories. He usually gets some interesting book facts out of it, too, or strange little stories -- "this book washed up on the Sardinian shore some years ago", "this was signed by a long-dead author, I've been curious to see how long it will take for a collector to find it," "an old man bestowed this upon me on the eve of his death, it's the only copy in existence" and so on -- not to mention the pleasure of Dream's company. He is so odd, and so engaging.

Dream looks up at him now with a tiny smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes. "Of course. Find whatever you wish."

Hob has been wondering if Dream's serendipitous knack with books will extend to browsing, to random finds. Only one way to know.

He leaves Dream to his labeling and goes to wander the shop.

This time, he does get swallowed in Oneiromancy, where he finds Sleeping Worlds, a book about dream travel. Then he wanders deeper into the shop, passes categories like, "Cat Training," CLOCKS, "Mathematics: Easy -> Impossible", and, "♾". Of course he goes into Infinity, and picks up The Birth of Numbers, a book whose text starts in the center of the page and spirals outwards, font growing larger as the book goes on, and in another section called "Romance: DIFFICULT LEVEL" -- whatever the hell difficult means -- he picks up a tiny book that's just one line, one syllable on each page.

I

on

ly

want

ed

you

to

see.

God, Dream's shop is weird.

Dream finds him there some time later, deep in Sleeping Worlds. "I see you've had a productive day."

"Yeah, sorry, lost track of time."

Dream keeps looking at him with a little smirk.

Worry darts through Hob's stomach. "Wait, what time is it?"

"Midnight," says Dream, with satisfaction. "I've absorbed you."

Yeah, no kidding. Hob scrambles to his feet. "Jesus, Dream, sorry. I'll get out of your hair."

"No matter. This is what The Library is for."

Hob goes to hand him the books, and he waves a hand. "Keep them, I will get them back eventually."

Ominous. Great.

"Gonna break into my house and retrieve them?" Hob asks. He probably wouldn't even mind, to be honest.

"Nothing so alarming." He gestures Hob forward, and Hob follows, lets Dream walk him out.

It is, indeed, pitch dark outside on their shared street. Hob's supposed to open the cafe at 6. Whoops.

"Thanks for the books, Dream," he says. "And for. Ten hours of distraction, apparently."

Dream leans in the narrow doorway of his shop. "Of course. Come browse... anytime."

And he melts back into the shadows as Hob steps down onto the street.

--

Hob wonders if he's an idiot for wanting to ask Dream out. Dream is clearly some kind of other thing, and hanging around him did kind of get Hob cursed. But the way he bites his lip when he's making notes in books is so cute. His unerring ability to make perfect book selections is both strange and endearing -- even the books Hob had picked up on his own had been exactly what he hadn't known he was looking for. Hob's heart picks up every time he steps into the cafe.

But if he's to ask out Dream, his own personal weird bookshop creature, he has to do it right.

And he knows how.

The next time Dream comes in for coffee, Hob sits down across from him and hands him a book. Dream looks at it in surprise, and Hob has the sudden thought that as the all-powerful selector of tomes, he probably isn't gifted books himself.

The book is called, Broken Hands. Hob had pulled it off his own shelf. Dream doesn't ask him what it is, instead he flips open the cover and reads, as Hob had hoped he would.

The first page of Broken Hands has the following paragraph:

Kissing her hand, he came to know himself. Kissing her mouth, he came to know them both. When they went onward, for now only in his mind, he kissed more of her, and more, and more, and then, he knew her. He wanted to know her.

Dream reads it, and looks back up at him. Offers a tiny smile. Yes, Hob knew he would get it.

"You have something you would like to ask me, Hob Gadling?" he says softly.

"You have something you want to answer?"

Dream takes a long sip of his coffee, but looks at Hob over the rim of the mug, a smile in his eyes. Then he swipes away the milk foam from his upper lip with his tongue and says, "I'd say that you are very foolish, to still wish to associate with someone who did, in a sense, get you cursed. But that I find myself grateful for this foolishness. People do often come back to the library, once they find it-- but they don't often come back for me."

It makes Hob sad to imagine--Dream the perennial custodian of The Library, shepherd of its patrons, gifting small touches of coincidence and magic, but always in the background, a bridge and not a destination. Meanwhile, Hob likes the strange books, but it's Dream he keeps wanting to hover around, to lure back into his own space.

He dares to take Dream's hand and squeezes. "...So?"

"I'd say that I'd like to get coffee with you, if you know a place."

Cheeky thing. "Yeah, there's a Starbucks a couple blocks down," Hob says, gesturing, and Dream chuckles. Hob's still holding his hand, and brings it to his lips for a light kiss, and gets to watch as Dream's cheeks tint pink. His heart lifts in his chest. So easy and light.

"You're gorgeous," he says, and that blush deepens. "I'd suffer even Starbucks for you."

"You would suffer much, then," says Dream.

"We'll get our Starbucks and wander around WHSmith and have a fabulous date," Hob says, and Dream's face goes through the most exquisite journey of horror.

"You demand too much," he says, faint. "You enjoy my suffering."

"Little bit, yeah." Hob's certainly enjoying the reaction.

Then Dream looks at him in challenge. "Very well," he declares. "You've set the date. Now you must follow through."

Hob can't even spare a thought to the distasteful activities he's now gotten himself into--he has a date with Dream. "So that's a yes?"

Dream smiles again, a tiny, pleased thing. "It is a yes, Hob Gadling."

--

They do go to Starbucks. Hob is treated to the glorious sight of Dream sipping a pink drink out of a long straw, which is so worth dealing with the coffee. Then he indeed drags Dream to WHSmith, where Dream stands in the middle of the brightly-lit store, spins in a circle staring at carefully lined book displays with wide eyes, says, "Hell would be more merciful," and bolts away. Hob follows him, laughing.

Outside, he finds Dream leaning in the shade of a tree, looking vaguely shell-shocked. Hob really shouldn't keep laughing at him, but he can't help it. "Were you traumatized permanently by the big chain store?"

"Yes," says Dream, but, despite the perilous adventure, smiles. "You are a cruel man, Hob Gadling."

"Nah. Just harnessed the fluorescent lighting to chase you back into the safety of my arms."

"Oh?" Dream pushes off the tree and steps closer, until he's standing just before Hob, close enough to touch. "Was that the goal?"

Hob takes the leap that's offered and touches Dream's cheek with a light hand. "Did it work?"

This close, in the midday light, Dream's eyes are almost grey. The shade of the tree dapples his skin. It's still odd to see him out of the contained space of his bookshop, of Hob's cafe, but it does make this feel more real. A part of the world beyond the spun-sugar story of their orbiting binary stars.

Dream rests a feather light hand on Hob's chest. Studies Hob from under his eyelashes. And instead of answering, he leans up and, with that same light touch, presses his lips to Hob's.

Hob revels in the mere touch of him for a moment, but doesn't let it stand at light for long. He takes Dream's face between his hands and deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue into Dream's mouth, swallowing Dream's hum of pleasure. If only he could put into the kiss what he had felt when Dream had handed him Nightingales. A sudden finding of something long lost that was always meant to be rooted in his heart.

When they part, he makes good on a promise and does pull Dream into his arms. It feels like a great indulgence. It also feels right.

"Make me a solemn promise, Hob Gadling," Dream says against Hob's cheek, arms wrapped around his back.

"Anything."

"Never take me here ever again."

Hob laughs into his hair, squeezing him tight. "What could one possibly want from here when The Library exists?"

This seems to greatly gratify Dream, who preens in Hob's arms. Hob kisses the shell of his ear, then his cheek, then they part again, and he takes Dream's hand. "I'm glad you expanded your horizons with me for a day."

"And now I will shrink them again," says Dream. "Except for one." To which he runs his thumb along Hob's lower lip, a touch Hob sways forward to follow almost drunkenly as Dream smirks. "Come."

He starts leading Hob back in the direction of their quiet street, and far far away from any fluorescent lighting, and Hob follows, touching his lips fondly. And lets himself be cautiously, tentatively hopeful that this will continue spiraling up into something real, because he wants it so bad. Curses and all.

[loupy-mongoose]

LOUPY DONT FLIP US OFF!!!!!

NOT UNTIL YOU GET SOME

SKELETON GLOVES!!!

THEN You'll FLIP IN STYLE!!!!!!

Way ahead of ya, mate. Had 'em for years! :P

These ones glow in the dark, too! :D

Disclaimer: I know it's a joke, but please be aware that I will never EVER intentionally portray a flip-off. Too crude and cruel for me. ^^

[thedeafprophet]

Children Have The Strangest Dreams

[teecupangel]

Was looking at Pokémon that are red cause of reasons, don’t ask it doesn’t make sense, and then had the thought: Desmond reborn as Charmander. And just imagining him growing up into a Charizard. Like, especially in an au where Desmond comes from a universe without Pokémon into this one, he’s just adjusting to “oh fuck I’m an animal?!” into “oh fuck I can breathe fire?!?!” and juuuuust when he’s getting over the concept and feeling of evolving, he becomes a Charizard and has a moment of “Wait…I have wings…I’M A DRAGON?!?!”

Meanwhile, Ezio/Altaïr/Ratonhnhake:ton (whoever you wanna put him with) just watch on in pure confusion as their partner Pokémon has a breakdown.

Okay, what if it was a First Gen Pokemon AU where Desmond is one of the three starter Pokemons in Monteriggioni, the first ‘town’ in the continent they are in and the headquarters of the Brotherhood.

They’re just called the Brotherhood, not the Assassin Brotherhood, and they’re rivals with the Order.

So three teenagers come to age and gets to pick their starter Pokemon before going on a journey across the continent to battle gym leaders and be legible to join the tournament held annually during the end of the year.

These young teenagers?

In Desmond’s eyes, they look exactly like Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Oh.

And apparently he was now a lizard with a flaming tail.

What the fuck.

The last thing he remembers is emptiness that made him sleepy.

When he woke up, he was there, in the middle of a large circular scifi looking table with a blue turtle with a curly tail and some kind of animal with a large closed plant on its back and…

Holy shit.

What the hell is this place?

He could see his reflection from one of the nearby monitors and he was a red lizard with a flaming tail.

He began to flap his tail, accidentally smacking the turtle who let out an indignant “Squirtle!” and smacked him back with his own tail.

Desmond, still not used to his new center of balance, staggered and accidentally slammed against the plant animal on his other side who went “Bulba-saur!” and…

All three stared at the sudden all out brawl happening on the presentation table as Ezio asked, “Uuhhh, Tio…?”

“Such lively Pokemons.” Mario simply laughed it off, “Don’t worry. We’ll heal them once you picked your first Pokemons!”

“Are you telling us to pick now?” Ratonhnhaké:ton asked with a frown.

“Yes. And…” Mario grinned at them, “As your first duty as a Pokemon trainer, you three should stop them from fighting too.”

“You just don’t want to get between that fight yourself.” Altaïr dryly said.

Mario just laughed instead of denying it.

(You decide who gets Desmond. By this point, you guys know me enough to know which one I would pick hahahahaha)

[blep-pup]

Grooming time!

Pre-groom dread

Bath time

side note: I do think it's hilarious that without fail, every single dog that's getting a bath looks like they're having the worst day of their life even tho they're mostly just a bit annoyed most of the time

being blow dried with a long lasting treat

stink eye

post bath playtime but pre groom

AFTER TWO HOURS

Might do some more touch ups on him tomorrow, we're both tired XD

Milou is clean!

I love his sleeping face, it makes the ^-^ face imo

[bixels]

I apologize for this thinly veiled attempt to push some of my own favorite media, disguised as an ask, but, have you ever seen Centaurworld?

I watched the first season and enjoyed it more than I thought I would. Laughed out loud at the jokes and watched it till the end. Didn't watch the second season though because I heard it wasn't good. I felt like season one had so much chatter and hype and as soon as season two dropped, nobody was talking about it anymore.

[ickyguts]

woah, nutty, buddy, where did you find such a massive lollipop

[cienie-isengardu]

Bi-Han & Kuai Liang and how they untied Kenshi

While making the last piece of my MK1 Behind the Scenes AU series, I was once again reminded about the similiarity between Bi-Han and Kuai Liang during Johnny Cage’s chapter. 

When Liu Kang ordered Bi-Han to free Kenshi, he did not use any blade but patiently worked on the knots to untie them. 

And yes, he has no knife on himself but he could easily form one with ice, not to mention freeze the rope and shatter it. But since this scene took place before Liu Kang’s burst of fire that ultimately convinced Johnny this is not some weird prank, the creators most likely decided to avoid using any supernatural elements. The big surprise needed to come from Fire Lord himself, which makes sense from the story's consequences of events. However in-universe, it made Bi-Han one of those people that would patiently work to untie knots rather than go with the easier way of cutting them (something I personally appreciate as I myself like to dissolve knots more than cutting through them).

But once Liu Kang’s burst of fire brought a change of the mood,

Kuai Liang when ordered to free Kenshi also didn't use the kunai to cut the ropes.

Which gives an interesting look at the brothers and their approach to fulfilling Fire Lord’s task. Here we need especially take into account that Scorpion was much more affected by Liu Kang’s show of power than his older brother - seen by the deep bow when Bi-Han barely showed remorse for the fight with Cage. Yet instead of using the kunai to free Kenshi as fast as possible as to not test further Liu Kang’s patience, the same as Bi-Han he choose to untie the ropes. Granted, Bi-Han most likely already did the most of the work, so Scorpion simply finished what was started but it still took him a while to free Kenshi.

This is a small detail, and one that does not play any bigger role in the grand schemes of things. However it helps to highlight how not so different brothers and their approach to task/problem is - especially at this early stage of game.

[hirazuki]

Me, episode 1: Oh, a relatable protag! And a relatable female protag, at that. Sweet! That never happens.

Me, a few episodes in: Wait, the protag really is going to be my character? The one I identify with the most? Seriously? It's not going to be a strange, at least somewhat sinister, seemingly hostile male side character? It's gonna be a female character and the protagonist? That's insane, that literally never happens... what's the catch??

Me, more than halfway through the season: ... huh, I guess Maomao really is it. Okay, then ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Me to myself, after episodes 22/23:

[paintedkinzy-88]

Hey so with your Undertale dragon au do you have a Reaper reference sheet yet?

I want to draw him.

AHH I don’t have his officially started yet ;~; Not a lot of his design has changed since my first references, if that helps at all?? He stays the exact same, I just wanted to edit some anatomical errors for his full ref sheet hahaha

He’s also here and here! The last of which I don’t think was linked in my masterpost and that has been fixed now ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

[lucdoodle]

Love love love your Adam art and your take on sinner!Adam. Seriously, you draw him so expressive 😭❤️

awwwwwwwww thanks !! I'm glad others like the concept of snake sinner adam! i really like the irony of it and it's interesting to imagine how Adam would react to it!

[third-king-of-salmonids]

the number of pronouns in your header isnt even a real number

DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO COUNT WITHOUT DIGITS?

[blackjackkent]

Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars for this ask meme: The Deeper the Water Dialogue Prompts Minsc - "You can be mad at me as long as you need to be" In a throwback mood lately so here's some BG2 feels. c:

-----

Caden: This isn't real, is it? He couldn't be dead… Jaheira: Shut up! No more words! Words are nothing! Yoshimo: I knew him not, but I mourn for your loss. Jaheira: Stranger! Nobody! I will not hear your words! Leave me! Minsc: A brave man has fallen here, but that is no cause to hurl insults at the living. Here, Boo shall comfort you. Jaheira: Imbecile! Affront to nature! What do you and your rodent know? What can you know? No words! No more words! Save your speeches, save your proverbs! The only voice I wish to hear is… is dead! No more! No… No…

- Baldur’s Gate II

---

“So this is Amn, eh, Boo?” Minsc looks around at the richly painted walls of his room at the Mithrest Inn, his eyes bright with disdain and exhaustion. “Minsc does not think it very much to look at, in spite of all the shiny baubles upon the walls.”

He examines a piece of art set over the headboard of the bed, and then shakes his head. “No. You may paint and daub all you wish, Athkatla,” he growls. “But Minsc shall not forget that his arrival within your walls was bought with blood.”

The artwork does not respond. 

Minsc sighs. “Yes, yes, Boo. You are wise as always, to say this changes nothing. But if a berserker is without his wychlaran, what has he left but rage?”

He rests a hand inside his pocket, feeling the comforting nuzzle of the hamster’s head against his palm. “Well,” he amends, “rage and you, of course.”

He should sleep. Much lies ahead of them all, now that Imoen has been taken and Irenicus yet lives unpunished. But it is hard, so hard, to sleep in a room where Dynaheir's breath no longer sounds nearby - the distinctive hitch on the inhale, the occasional mumble of arcane words that meant nothing to him. He feels her absence like the phantom pain of a ripped-off limb.

He leaves the room, prowls the hallways of the inn like a tormented ghost. Caden has already gone to sleep, and the thief from Irenicus's dungeons as well, but Minsc is surprised to find, on reaching the tavern at the front of the building, that he is not the only one still awake. Jaheira sits in a dark corner of the nearly empty room, watching with hooded eyes as the innkeeper wipes down the bar. A large glass of ale sits in front of her, untouched, its foam long since subsided. 

She looks up warily at the sound of Minsc's heavy footfalls. “Do you come to bring me yet more platitudes, ranger?” 

Minsc says nothing for a moment. He still remembers her sharp, angry bark in the catacombs where they found Khalid, the pain in her voice that answered his own. “If to rage at Minsc again would bring you comfort, Jaheira, perhaps he may find some good words to offer,” he finally says slowly. “But he has spent all those that came easily, and what remains is little indeed.”

Jaheira looks away from him and fidgets with the base of her glass, absently rubbing a line through the condensation that has formed there. “I am sorry, Minsc,” she says. 

“There is no need--” 

“I think there is.” She looks up again, and there is a sudden fire in her eyes. “I am no fool, who cannot tell when her shots have gone wide of the mark and struck those not the target. If you grant me the luxury of misplaced anger, grant me also this apology.”

A pause. “Very well,” he says. He reaches out and places a hand on the back of the chair opposite her; when she doesn't object, he sits, his heavy bulk causing the wood to creak. He can feel the familiar scratch of Boo shifting position as his pocket flexes with the motion. 

Jaheira watches him, then nudges the glass in his direction. “If you desire flat ale, you are welcome to this,” she says, with muted irony. “I ordered it, but I find I have no taste for it.”

He can understand this. Oblivion, he has found, can sit at the bottom of a glass, but it is a tricky thing; sometimes in falling towards it, one can miss and land instead only in deeper sadness. He shakes his head. “I thank you. But no. Minsc would rather feel this thing that tears at his insides, because not to feel it would be worse.”

“Yes,” she agrees. A pause. “I am sorry about Dynaheir. Her loss is a tragedy.”

“It is. Minsc shall not see her like again.” He examines a knot in the wood of the table. “She thought well of Khalid,” he adds abruptly. “Many times Minsc heard her speak of his bravery and kindness both. And Dynaheir saw only what was true.”

Jaheira smiles shakily. “Khalid and I both found her a fine companion in turn,” she says softly. “She was as strong in wisdom and magic as any I have encountered. We-- I am the richer for having known her.”

“And the world the poorer for having lost her.” Minsc makes a valiant attempt to smile but the muscles of his face twitch with the effort. “Even now, I feel that I might turn my head and see her watching,” he mutters bitterly. “Minsc’s mind mocks him with wishing.”

Jaheira squeezes her eyes shut and rests her elbows on the table, leaning her forehead against the heels of her hands. “As does mine,” she murmurs. “We had no time to prepare ourselves for this blow. It struck without warning and tore our hearts out of us.” Her breath catches, as if someone has struck her in the stomach. “How shall we bear it?” she whispers, more to herself than aloud. 

Now Minsc does smile, utterly without humor, a savage expression showing all his teeth. “We shall sink our boots into the butt of he who took them from us, so deep that we shall kick out his guts.”

She snorts softly and lifts her head. “Wisely said, if indelicately,” she says. She breathes out heavily, her shoulders squaring, her fingers balling into fists. “We shall destroy Irenicus indeed, and if fate is kind I shall land the killing blow myself.”

Minsc's smile draws very tight; it gives his high forehead and cheekbones a distinctly skull-like aspect in the lowering torchlight. “If fate is kind,” he growls in answer, “you shall indeed, and Minsc shall break every one of his bones, that he might not run away from your blow. Nor shall he see it coming, for Boo shall chew out his eyes.” He brings down his fist on the table with a bang that makes Jaheira jump. “And so shall dear Dynaheir be avenged, and Khalid as well.”

“Yes…” Jaheira murmurs, and for a moment there is a glint in her eyes that reminds him all too clearly of the tiger she is capable of becoming. “Silvanus lay the path, and Mielikki guide our hunt.”

[colepic-the-collector]

Has Colette been freed from her capture of Belle yet?

No, she said that she would give me my phone back if I was a good noodle, but almost everything I do makes me a bad noodle in her eyes.

She does give me gold stars if I behave! :3 I even have more stars than Sam :D