SOUL - PERSEVERANCE

Went to The Maybe Man tour! Had a lot of fun but my throat hurts quite a bit (；^∀^)

I've never felt more understood

y'know, one thing i don't see get talked about much in regards to asexuality is how it feels to never be 'sexually motivated' by anything

and not just when it comes to advertisements using 'sexy' models to try and sell you stuff, but like. in general

sex as a favor, sex as a bribe, sex in exchange for whatever

casual sex, 'friends with benefits' situations, even simple flirting

it all looks a whole lot different from the perspective of someone who's immune to manipulation via sex appeal, who has virtually no understanding as to why sex would motivate someone to cheat on their partner, etc. etc.

sex is worthless to me

i mean, it's useful as a story element in fiction, but it genuinely perplexes me that sex is such a driving force behind so many aspects of irl society & of people's individual lives, for better or for worse

and that it's so deeply ingrained into how the average person views the world & various situations, because the average person feels sexual attraction, whereas i do not

i think the barrier between aces & allos is actually even deeper than it seems on the surface at times, because it's more than just the grating expectation that everyone must want to 'settle down' and have kids, it's also the fact that the majority of the world is sort of 'in' on a joke that aces will never truly be a part of

I finished it @r3stingangel

Oneshot -Perhaps in another life. In another time

Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs

Ship: Dazai x Reader

TW: mental health problems, suicide, struggling reader, struggling dazai, character death, reader death, angst, no comfort

A/N: I saw this post and felt compelled to write because mood, I honestly feel the same, so uh, this is for you, @r3stingangel

You had met Dazai at a quant cafe below where he worked. You had found your gaze drawn to him. Something about him stood out.

Familiar.

He had caught you staring at him, but he didn't seem mad. He put on a flirtatious mask and walked over to you confronting you about staring. When he drew closer and looked into your eyes, something changed, his mask cracking.

Like he had realized the same thing you had.

Familiarity.

You began visiting that quant cafe more often, letting yourself relax in the presence of someone who understood you.

You came to learn more about each other with each visit, compelling you to continue going. It let you escape from reality for a little while.

The familiarity turned out to be a shared feeling of hopelessness. A shared feeling of purposelessness. Of inadequacy.

Nihilism.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was under the bandages covering his neck and arms, perhaps even other parts of his body as well. And while you weren't covered in any bandages, you figured he knew you had your own personal scars as well.

Perhaps the biggest difference between you two was his flawless ability to hide behind well-crafted masks. It was something you faintly recall being capable of doing as a child, but now you were simply too exhausted to bother hiding your apathetic nature.

Dazai didn't seem to mind.

After some time of getting to know each other, he invited you to join him at a bar. A place he said held many memories of a time long gone. A time in which he was happy, even if fleeting.

He told you of his two friends, one turned traitor, the other dead.

You remember that night.

Odasaku was the man's name. He took you to his grave that night.

Though no tears were shed you could feel the melancholy surrounding him like an intoxicating aura. Coiling around the two of you like the fog did, seeping into your skin, your bones.

Currently, you were returning his gesture, bringing him to a place that held your happiest memories.

Fleeting as they were.

Before everything in your already difficult life went to absolute shit.

Bills were scattered on your kitchen table, and copies of a resume were among them.

And yet you were currently leading Dazai to a bridge. A beautiful river surrounded on both sides by flowers of all kinds.

It had been your happy place away from your home life where you hung out with your only friend.

You couldn't remember his name. Faint memories of hair so blonde the sun created a halo on his hair. A smile, innocent and youthful. An angel running through flowers in the middle of spring.

Red. Everywhere.

The platinum blonde hair was stained with a garish color.

A warm breeze, telling of the nearing summer shook you from your thoughts as you and Dazai made it to the bridge.

Even at night was it beautiful.

You looked at the man next to you.

He was no angel, far from it.

But perhaps that was why you got along, for you were no angel yourself.

Your hands would forever be stained in the red that seeped through platinum locks of hair.

"It's beautiful." He spoke softly as if to not disturb the calmness of their surroundings.

You smiled looking from Dazai down to the water, to the moon reflecting across in streaks of white. "It is, isn't it?"

Words were meaningless.

Speaking for the sake of speaking.

"My dear belladonna." His sentence left unfinished.

Belladonna's were a beautiful flower.

Poisonous.

"Would you be willing to end our suffering with me, love?" He finished. Words unneeded.

Lovers.

Something you were not.

Perhaps in another life. In another time.

You took his hand.

Moving to sit on the railing of the bridge with him, you looked up at the moon as it stared down, always watching.

You looked at where your hand was intertwined with his then up at his face.

Soft brown curls framed his face in an almost endearing way. Eyes a beautiful brownish burgundy color.

You smiled, genuinely.

He looked at you.

His lips pulled into a genuine smile. He looked tired.

Perhaps you looked the same.

You both closed what little space was left between you.

The kiss was soft. It would've been sweet if not laced with your shared melancholy.

Without breaking the kiss you both slipped off the railing.

chuuya is not used to seeing a sleeping dazai. Sure he's definitely the person who has seen him like this the most, has helped him as much as he could with his insomnia, has driven him around until he was sleepy, has gotten him his sleeping pills (and kept them far from him only to be accessed through chuuya, thank you very much). However dazai is still an insomniac, so waking up before him and finding him cuddled up on chuuya's chest and sleeping peacefully is rare. This are his favorite mornings, without a speck of a doubt. Not only does this mean that the mackerel is actually resting, it also means that chuuya can stare at his pretty face as much as he wants. And when after a while dazai stirs awake, with his eyes barely open, his hair a mess and his face puffy and sleep warm, chuuya gets cuteness aggression so hard he needs to cover him in kisses and squeeze him real tight

So I was bored and made this

So yesterday I was recalling a fanfic that had the Hanahaki disease in it while listening to the song "Killing Butterflies" by Lewis Blisset and had the thought of: 'What if it was butterflies instead of flowers' and so now this exists.

Now I present to you: Midnight thoughts with BLANK

Fictional disease like the Hanahaki disease. 

It's caused by a loss of love from a loved one(romantic love) like after a harsh breakup or intense argument. Instead of flowers its butterflies and they sprout(?) out of the infected face/body (usually face/ under eyes). The process of a butterfly leaving the body is slow (about 1 day) and so not that painful. The butterflies fly/stay around the infected until their death and then land on and around the body and die with them. The infected's hearing improves greatly, though this is more a curse than a blessing due to the constant flapping of the butterflies wings around them. Should the infected kill one of the butterfly while alive then another butterfly will sprout quickly (in seconds) to replace the dead one, this is painful due to the speed that it leaves the body. The butterflies are typically more on the red side but some are pink. The color of the butterflies is due to the fact that the butterflies are made of the infected's blood, meaning with every butterfly that sprouts the infected loses blood. The more butterflies there are the father along the disease is. The butterflies will continue to sprout until the infected dies, one of the only times a person can survive this is making up with their love. That being said the infected will probably not survive if they broke up. This disease only happens to those who still love their partner, so the other cure is the infected learning to move on. Although if it progresses for too long there is no reversing it. Its name? 

Killing Butterflies 

Wonderful start to my day, very cute

Hunger.

Baby with a knife 🔪

BABY NEED KNIFE.

I love this au so much ❤️

Orcazai is back 🎉

site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition 

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms