this is so ugly ugh whats coloring

Hey. You. Stop calling your art ugly.

This has transcended “artistic pet peeve” and is now making me actually angry. Indignant, fightin’ words kind of angry.

People like your art. More importantly, somebody likes your art. Another human being out there sees your art– maybe in between reminders of ugly politics or drama, maybe in the middle of their soul-sucking job, maybe just first thing in the morning or before they go to bed– and that makes their day a little brighter. Not just because it’s cute, or it’s got nice colors, or it’s a character they like. But because you posted it. And then they see “forgive my garbage art” or “I’m sorry this is so ugly” or “ugh this sucks.” And guess what? That brings them right back down. It says– undoubtedly inadvertently, but all the same– “if you like this, you’re an idiot. This thing you look up to? It’s awful. What’s wrong with you?”

And yes, I know why people do this. It’s a defense mechanism. If I put my art down first, then nobody else will be able to. And I know whatever is causing these thoughts will not be talked away by some text post on Tumblr. I would by all means encourage talking back to those ugly, demeaning thoughts, replacing those habits with constructive ones geared towards humble improvement of craft (now’s as good a time as any to mention that all artists have doubts and struggles with their work, but there’s a difference between being your own harshest critic and being your own meanest bully). But I get that I’m not your therapist, your mom, even your friend, probably. If you want to continue to fall back into beating yourself up, I can’t stop you. But I write this in the hopes that you at least realize how it might affect other people. Because it isn’t a localized wound. It hurts your followers. It takes something they find beautiful or uplifting or resonant or inspirational and trashes it before their eyes. It’s a plague to the whole art community, and it sure as hell spreads like one.

I don’t really pay attention to my follower number, but I checked it before I wrote this up and it’s around 400 or so. First off, thank you. I don’t want to focus on the number, but I do feel honored any time I see a new follower. But also, I see that number and I think, “You know, that’s quite a reach. That’s a lot of people.” But then I forget the people and I think of the somebody. I think, “Odds are this will reach somebody out there. Odds are it’ll piss somebody off, too, but I’ll take that one person it reaches.” I think that’s a good way to view your art, too. Yes, somebody out there might beat you to the punch and call your art ugly. It sucks, it stings, I know that from experience. But it’s not the end of the world, and it doesn’t change a thing about the people who have found beauty of any kind in your art.

If you can’t for the life of you see the value in your own art, value the somebody who does.

Wth happened to the Batman series’ animation quality? How did their cartoons become so bad. Like, just look at these two different clips from the New Batman Adventures vs. Batman and Harley Quinn from this year. Animation is supposed to get better with new technology, not worse.

The classic animation has personality and everything flows well. Both Harley and Pam are expressive, likable and pleasing to look at (cute!!!!!!!!). The characters and backgrounds have clear volume and, I dunno, look like someone actually TRIED on them. Who would’ve thought.

The newest movie (MOVIE! Typically you expect better quality from a film) has boring animation, and the characters look stiff and flat. The expressions are poorly done and the lip-sync animation is off. The characters aren’t convincing at all. The colors are dull and ugly (Pam blends into the background, lol). The dialogue and fight scene are uninteresting. It’s almost like DC is only concerned with doing the bare minimum as cheaply as they can while making a profit (that’s exactly what they’ve been doing). The worst part is that it seems like they’re trying to emulate the old art style, but it’s just a cheap copy and UGH. It’s just… so bad.


Okay. Many of us wrote about new Naruto episode (484), and did really great job! But I’m want add one little thing.

At first, lets look at Hinata and notice her look type. She has a round, wide face, not narrow chin. Outer corners of her eyes are pretty lowered.

But now she is magically changed into absolutely different person. And guess like who she looks like now? 

Right, she looks more like Sasuke. Her eyes are narrow, skin is paler, hair is darker, and her face is thin and long. Even their facial expression are looks similar now….

What is it? I know, puberty changes a lot in people, but it can’t change your eye form and face shape. 

Why??? Like its not enough for them to steal a moments, colors and techniques from NaruSasu to NaruHina sake, they also want to steal Sasuke`s look for Hinata to make her more opposite of Naruto (and opposites, as you know, complement each other.) 

What is next, Hinata will awake her sharingan? Ugh.

Physical Contact

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Lance scrambled to turn the water off in the sink. “No! No no no!” He felt his face get hot and tears well up deep in his throat. Some would call him overdramatic but these were what made Lance… Lance.

Now they were gone.

His blue colored contacts were washed down the drain by accident. They fell out of his careful hands when he tried to put him in.

“Okay okay… maybe nobody will notice?” He reassured himself and left the bathroom feeling naked.

He passed Pidge and waved at her exceedingly nervous as she looked up from her tablet. “Oh hey, Lance.” Pidge said nonchalantly and went back to typing as if nothing was wrong. ‘That’s good.’ Lance thought and continued to walk until he got to the dining hall and found Keith and the mice chowing down on some goo.

“Keith.” Lance said in his usual ‘I hate you with a burning passion’ tone.

“Lance.” Keith retorted in a ‘matter of fact’ way. They stared down each other before Lance remembered what he was doing and looked away quickly. “Ha! I won!” Keith gloated and flung some goo at Lance.

“Why you-”

“Good morning Paladins~” Coran floated into the room happy as a… well as some naturally happy thing from Altea. His eyes shifted over to Lance when he was just about to say something else. Then he stopped. “Lance what happened to your-”

‘Oh no! I’ve been found out! I’m a monster! A traitor! A LIAR!’ Lance screamed in his head looking down and preparing for the worst of the worst.

“-hair…?” Coran finished. “Did you do something new?”

Lance completely forgot to do his hair after his routine was thrown of by LOSING HIS CONTACTS. His messy bed hair was probably a new sight for everyone.

“I thought you were gonna say something about his eyes.” Keith spooned some goo in his mouth. Lances head skipped like a million beats.

“Oh I noticed I just didn’t think it was worth mentioning.” Coran shrugged. “Anyway, I must be off, this ship isn’t going to steer itself!” And just like that he was gone. Lance stood dumbfounded and vulnerable.

“So what… your eyes aren’t blue huh.” Keith mumbled.

“No… I wore colored contacts.”

“Well you’re still ugly so I don’t see the problem.” Keith shrugged.

“I know you are but what am I?” Lance retorted.

“Ugh. Get lost. Nobody cares about your eye color. You’re still you. The same stupid self.”

Lance felt that he should thank Keith like his mamma taught him but he is his rival and Lance will never give Keith that satisfaction.

“Thanks mullet.” And with that he left. His brown eyes sparkling in the light.


Well, here’s Day 2: Magic/ Space for @daisugaweek2017. I kind of cheated because it’s more “supernatural” than “magic” but whatever. Same thing. This actually comes from an idea I had for an AU so there may be a continuation of it in the future. 

Also, it’s probably well known by now that I like to use less than savory language in all of my writing, but I’m gonna throw a warning out there anyway. 

This story uses explicit language.  Enjoy.

(Also it’s really long and the “read under the cut” thing was being a douchebag and wasn’t working so I apologize for spamming you with this junk.)

Touch me…

Daichi stared warily up at the decrepit old statue of the bucking horse with narrowed eyes.

Touch me… the faint whispering voice hummed from somewhere within the bird dropping spattered bronze of the horse’s form.

His lip twitched up in distaste.

What an erotic haunted statue.

When he had heard the first whisperings among his new classmates about the possessed horse statue in the back gardens of the high school to which he had just transferred not a week prior, he had imagined something a little more…


Or at least less…

Touch me

Well, less perverted.

Daichi considered ignoring it. Even though he had come to school an hour early in order to investigate the rumor. He could just ignore it. It wasn’t his job to solve hauntings anyway. It’s not like he was an exorcist.

But he wasn’t actually expecting it to be legitimately haunted in the first place. Most rumors of possession or voices calling out in the middle of the night were nothing but that.


C’mon… just a little touch.

Daichi let out a growling sigh.

He could just ignore it.

But if his guardian caught word that a talking, perverted, horse statue was begging people to touch it and had even sent the last person that touched it, a janitor assigned to clean it, to the hospital with a brain aneurysm… well that was just asking to open up a huge can of worms, wasn’t it?

He would probably show up at the school in broad daylight, decked to the nines in talismans and wearing that, oh god, that horribly embarrassing Noh mask he claimed to be a ward against the whisperings of sirens.

One week after transferring to his new school… that was the last thing Daichi needed.

It wasn’t like he didn’t alreadyhave a tough time fitting in with other kids without the “help” from his strange- albeit well meaning- guardian’s interference.

He could ignore it.

But it was probably less troublesome to just deal with it on his own.

Touch me… I won’t bite.

Daichi sneered and reached out.

Sure you won’t, pervert.

Without hesitation, Daichi wrapped his hand around the ankle of the front left leg of the statue.

A pulse traveled through his body and his hand burned with quick, sudden heat. He winced but held tight until the pulse echoed back up from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head and the heat disappeared, replaced by an icy cold sting. A bright light flashed, blinding Daichi momentarily and he released the statue, taking a large stride backwards.

Ah hahahahaha!” a cackling voice rang out. “Fuckin’ finally!”

Daichi rubbed his eyes until the brown spots disappeared. He blinked rapidly and stared up at the cloud of grey smoke hanging over the statue, formless and light. Lines of black smoke rolled through the cloud and Daichi hunted for some kind of face or source of the voice.

The cloud coiled away from the statue, voice throwing expletives back its way. And then somehow, it seemed to turn towards Daichi, though he couldn’t say why he felt that way, considering the lack of shape.

“Thank you kindly for freeing me,” the voice turned sweet. “Your reward is being my very first meal of the century!”

The cloud rushed towards him and yeah, Daichi probably should have ignored it, after all.

Because he was not equipped to face this kind of thing.

Regardless, he cocked his fist back, waited, and slammed it forward as black tendrils reached out from the smoke.

And you would think that there’d be no connection.

It being a cloud and all.

But would you believe it, Daichi’s fist crashed into something solid, very solid, and sent it flying backwards and to the cobbled path. The cloud of smoke dissipated and Daichi stared wide-eyed at the body that writhed and kicked on the ground before him.

“Owwww!” what looked to be a young man with unruly grey hair clutched at his face. “That hurt! You actually hit me!”

Daichi blinked in surprise.

The young man kicked, groaning loudly. He was dressed in a pair of light grey hakama, tied at his calves with bright royal blue ribbon, and a tightly fitted, black, half shirt with long sleeves. The hem of the shirt ended just halfway down his torso, displaying the pale skin of his toned abdomen, upon which black stripes were tattooed.

The boy’s face was unremarkable, as far as youkai went. There were no horns, no enlarged or protruding features.

In fact, other than the tall, hairy ears and black stripes curling across his cheeks to his delicate nose, he looked entirely human.

Other than the long, sharp incisors revealed as his mouth opened- entirely too wide to be human- and he let out the shout,

“Don’t get cocky! It’s because I’m sore from being stuck in that statue for ninety years!”

The boy climbed to his feet, bent at his knees, and then jumped into the air, where he hung, suspended. He lifted both hands, raising his middle fingers, and then whirled in the opposite direction.

“Suck a dick, Jackass!” he yelled and then flew away, trailing grey smoke as he went.

Daichi watched him go for a moment until he disappeared. He scratched the back of his head and then gazed down at his hand.

I punched a youkai.

He squeezed his hand into a fist and then loosened it again.

That was new.

He looked once more at the statue, but it whispered no longer.

He momentarily worried about what kind of mayhem he had just released, but eventually shrugged and headed off to class before someone spotted him loitering around the haunted statue and deemed him a weirdo.

“Does anyone want to read the next page?”

The class groaned and avoided making eye contact with the sensei.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s a pain in the ass. C’mon. Someone volunteer or else I’ll pick at random.”

The boy in the desk to the right of Daichi’s timidly raised his hand.

“Uh… Sensei, I could read…”

“Ah! Azumane-kun! What a good student. Today you’re my favorite,” the sensei leaned against the desk, holding up his copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. “Everyone take notes from Azumane-kun. He’s the epitome of the perfect student.”

“Ugh, Shimada-sensei you shouldn’t play favorites!” someone complained from the front of the room.

“Jealousy is very ugly,” he lightly smacked the student on the head with his book. “Now shut up so my favorite student can be heard. Go ahead, Azumane-kun.”

The meek giant lifted his book in front of his face to hide the flaming red color his cheeks had turned and stood.

Daichi smiled. Shimada-sensei was his favorite. He made the day interesting with his straight forward- and sometimes harsh- banter with the class.

Azumane started to read, voice soft, but just loud enough to carry across the room. Daichi turned his head to the side, staring through the window directly to his left.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sky was blue and white puffy clouds rolled by leisurely, casting the occasional much coveted relief of shade on the earth below. Daichi could almost completely forget the events of that morning when the world seemed so peaceful.


But not quite.

Especially not when he caught sight of that grey form barreling towards his window. Daichi’s eyes widened and he leaned away just as the youkai from that morning slammed into the glass.

The classroom erupted in shrieks of surprise and Azumane stopped reading as the loud thump echoed through the air.

“What the…” Shimada-sensei stared wide-eyed at the window.

Daichi gulped.

The youkai pressed the palms of his hands to the window, bare feet dangling in midair as he peered through at the classroom. His eyes fell on Daichi and his thick grey brows pulled low over his burning hazel eyes.

They can’t see him… can they? Daichi glanced back at his fellow classmates.

Shimada-sensei hummed and turned away.

“Must’ve been a bird,” he said, calming the excited murmuring. “Let’s get back to reading. Azumane-kun?”

“Ah… okay…” he cleared his throat and picked up where he left off.

Daichi let out a deep breath of relief and turned back to the youkai. He glared down at Daichi fiercely and then pointed at the latch on the window.

He wants in? Is he crazy?

As if Daichi was dumb enough to invite a youkai into his classroom with so many people nearby. He gave a curt shake of his head and the youkai’s cheeks reddened in anger. He pointed again, nose scrunching, mouth twisting.

Daichi gave him a pointed stare and then faced forward.

Does he think I’m an idiot?

He had already tried taking a bite out of Daichi once that morning. There was no way he was going to give him the opportunity again—

Motion beyond the window drew his eyes once more.

The youkai pulled his right arm back and cocked it, ready to slam it forward.


Is he…

Daichi’s eyes went wide and he suddenly thrust his hand into the air. The youkai paused, watching him with narrow eyes.

Azumane stopped his reading as Shimada-sensei cocked an eyebrow, “Something wrong, Sawamura-kun?”

“Ah… I… uhm…” he cleared his throat, lowering his hand. “It’s really hot back here. Is it okay if I open the window?”

“Go ahead,” Shimada frowned. “Was that really worth interrupting the reading for though?”

“S-sorry,” Daichi’s face warmed and he stood.

“Continue, Azumane-kun.”

Azumane picked up the reading once more and Daichi grabbed the latch to the window.

This is a bad idea.

He knew it was a bad idea. But he couldn’t let the youkai shatter the window. Either way, he was getting inside. Daichi just chose the less violent path this time.

He opened the window and the youkai stepped inside, bare feet balancing on the sill.

“Smart move, kid,” he said, voice ringing through the classroom.

Daichi glanced anxiously at the students but they paid him no heed, leaning over their books in boredom.

Daichi gulped and sat in his seat once more, willing the youkai not to cause trouble.

This is a bad idea.

His heart thundered in his chest.

“Hmm…” the youkai hopped onto Daichi’s desk and stared around the room, arms crossed over his chest. “Human schools are different than they were ninety-years ago.”

Azumane finished reading and sat.

“Thank you, Azumane-kun. Best student. Alright, who wants to be second best student? Higarashi?”

“Geh, don’t pick me!” a boy near the front of the classroom complained.

“Read the next page please,” Shimada sang, ignoring his plea.

The youkai turned towards Daichi as Higarashi stood and began reading, voice dull.

Sweat lined Daichi’s brow and he stared at the creature in the corner of his eye, pretending that he wasn’t there.

He’s not there.

The youkai plopped down on his behind, legs hanging over on either side of Daichi’s chair. He leaned back on the heels of his hands, kicking his bare feet nonchalantly.

Daichi clenched his jaw and pulled the book out from under his thigh, holding it in his lap.

“Alright, I know what you did,” the youkai said in a low voice.

Daichi glanced up into his face. His eyebrows were pulled low, eyes dark as he stared down at him. For a moment, he was distracted by the small beauty mark in the corner of his left eye.

He looks so…


“Are you going to admit to your crime?” the youkai demanded, placing his right foot on Daichi’s left thigh.

Daichi eyed the foot for a moment and then glanced into his face again.


What crime?

I freed you, ungrateful monster.

“I get it, you can’t talk,” the youkai leaned forward. “So just listen.” He reached out and pressed a finger to Daichi’s forehead. “I just tried to leave the city. And guess what happened?”

Daichi furrowed his brows.

“I got fucking burned,” he lifted his foot and pulled the fabric of his hakama up mid-calf, revealing ugly red blisters around his ankle. “Look at it! It hurts like hell!”

Daichi stared at the wound for a long second before turning his eyes back to the youkai.

So what?

How is this my fault?

The youkai covered the wound once more and set the foot on Daichi’s thigh.

“You son of a bitch. How did you form a lifelink in that short of time?”

Daichi blinked.


Life what?

The youkai continued to sneer at him for several moments as Daichi wracked his brain. A lifelink? Daichi didn’t know how to create such a thing. That would take a powerful ritual performed by an actual exorcist, wouldn’t it? There would have to be summoning circles and blood exchanges and talismans and chanting… wouldn’t there?

The youkai huffed, “Whatever. I don’t really care how it happened. It’ll disappear once I eat you anyway.” He waved a hand.

Daichi’s eyes widened.

Eat me?


The youkai smirked and slid off of the desk. He settled in Daichi’s lap, straddling his hips. Daichi stiffened as he placed his hands on his shoulders and leaned close. He sniffed his face, staring deeply into his eyes.

“You should be happy,” he whispered, nose brushing his cheek. “It’s an honor to be the meal of someone like me.”



Daichi gulped.

He wasn’t serious, was he?

He didn’t actually intend to eat Daichi right there in the middle of the classroom, did he?

The youkai caught his panicked glance towards Azumane.

“Hm… don’t worry,” he said, fingers grasping his jaw and turning his head to the side. “After I’m done with you, I’ll be sure to eat the others too.”

The youkai sunk his teeth into the side of Daichi’s neck, breaking the skin in an instant.

Daichi let out a loud gasp and grabbed the youkai’s hair. For a moment, he stared in confusion and terror at the sight of the pale grey glow emanating from his right hand, but then the youkai bit down harder and he felt a trickle of blood slip down his throat and wet the collar of his uniform shirt.

He pulled at the youkai’s hair and he unlatched his jaw from around his neck. Daichi pulled him back against the desk. The youkai’s irises were almost completely enveloped in the black of his pupils. His cheeks were flushed bright pink and blood dripped from his incisors, painting red down his pale chin. His tongue slipped out and licked the blood away slowly.

“Ahh…” he let out a moan. “Delicious…

A loud cry drew Daichi’s attention to the right.

Azumane stared at him with wide eyes, mouth gaping open. “S-Sawamura-kun!”

The rest of the class turned towards him and Daichi quickly slapped his left hand over the wound in his neck.

“What happened?” Shimada straightened away from the desk. “Sawamura-kun, did you hurt yourself? Where’s all that blood coming from?”

“Ahh… ahh…” Daichi glanced at the youkai, but he was still licking the blood from his lips, expression euphoric. “S-sorry. I uhm… it’s a scratch that I accidentally… uh…”

“Go clean it up,” Shimada said. “Go to the nurse. Azumane will you walk with him—”

“No! I can go by myself, it’s okay!” Daichi leapt to his feet, sending the youkai sprawling on his back in the aisle. “Sorry. I’ll be back when I get a bandage.”

“Don’t rush,” Shimada frowned worriedly. “Take your time.”

Daichi turned towards the door, eyeing the youkai anxiously.


Come on.

Follow me.

The youkai spotted him leaving and jumped to his feet. He chased after as Daichi swiftly crossed the room and entered the hallway.

“Don’t escape,” the youkai called.

Daichi picked up his speed until he was running down the hallway.

The youkai let out a tremendous cackling laugh.

“Ahh, prey is more delicious when it puts up a fight!” he squealed.

Daichi ducked into the bathroom and turned. The youkai burst in after him, just in time to catch Daichi’s- still glowing- fist in his left cheek.

The youkai flew across the bathroom and crashed into the trashcan, taking it out with him as he hit the tiled floor.

“Owwww!” he sat up, cradling his cheek. “Again with the punching! What are you, some kind of animal?”

Like you’re one to talk!” Daichi bellowed. He pulled his left hand back and stared down at the blood covering his palm and fingers. “Son of a bitch.”

The youkai whined, kicking his bare feet against the floor, “Just let me eat you!”

“Fuck no!” Daichi went to the sink and held his hand under the faucet, rinsing the blood down the drain. “Fucking monster. This is the thanks I get for freeing you?”

Freeing me?” the youkai climbed to his feet. “You freed me from one cage just to lock me in another!”

“I did not!”

“Yeah you did! You formed a lifelink between the two of us and now I can’t leave your vicinity!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Daichi glared into the mirror, assessing the damage on his neck.

“Are you some kind of idiot?” the youkai slid in close to him and Daichi stepped away warily. “Are you one of those humans that have a low brain function?” he pointed at his temple, eyes wide. “Ehh… how do they say… were you dropped on your head as a baby? Wait, I know,” he cocked his head to the side. “Are you a retard?”

“You can’t say that anymore,” Daichi growled. “It’s politically incorrect.”

“You think I give a shit about political correctness?” the youkai’s left eyebrow lifted. “Do I look like I give a shit about the petty inconsistencies of your human society?”

Daichi washed his throat silently.

“It’s politically incorrect,” the youkai made air quotes with his fingers and Daichi stared at the motion.

He had never seen a youkai act so… human.

“It’s a fuckin’ word, Shithead,” he flicked the center of Daichi’s forehead. “What, next you’re going to tell me I can’t say faggot or ass pirate?”

Daichi blinked at him, “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

Ehhhh?” he leaned both of his hands on the edge of the sink. “But those are my favorite things to say! They were really popular ninety years ago! Everyone was saying them!” He crossed his arms over his chest, “It was always, Wow, look at that faggot!” he turned as if having a conversation with someone. “Which faggot?” he turned again and pointed across the bathroom, “The one with the smallpox!” he nodded, “Ohh… that faggot. Yeah he looks like a real ass pirate.

“Well we don’t have smallpox anymore either so…”

Ehhhh?” the youkai pressed against his side and gripped his arm. “No smallpox? But what’s controlling your population then? First you shake off the Black Death and now you got rid of the red one too?” he scowled. “How much can change in ninety years?”

Daichi turned off the faucet and pumped paper towels from the dispenser.

Why am I talking to a youkai?

What’s going on?

Why is my hand glowing?

He pressed the towels to his throat and turned back to the youkai.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “What is a lifelink? How did I form one between us?”

The youkai stared at him silently. After a moment he let out a sigh and shrugged.

“It’s a pain to explain. So just let me eat you and we can solve the problem.”

“Like hell.”

“Don’t be selfish.”

“I don’t think it’s selfish to want to live.

The youkai’s gaze darkened, “You think your life is more valuable than mine?”

Daichi blinked.

The youkai’s incisors seemed to elongate as he turned towards him.

“You’re just a human,” he sneered. “You live for less than a century. You contribute nothing to the universe. You take and destroy and maybe reproduce, bringing more disgusting creatures into life to take and destroy after you die.”

Daichi gulped.

The youkai moved closer to him, eyes traveling over his face and then down his throat, “What makes you think your life has more meaning than mine?”

Daichi was silent as the youkai leaned his face in and sniffed along his skin, nose brushing the side of his neck.

“My life may not have more meaning than yours,” he finally whispered, drawing the youkai’s eyes to his face. “But it has meaning. Even just the tiniest amount is enough reason to continue living.”

The youkai’s left ear twitched atop his head.

“You’re annoying,” he muttered. His lips brushed Daichi’s throat but he had his glowing hand in his hair in an instant, dragging him back. The youkai winced and didn’t fight.

“What is a lifelink?” he asked, voice low.

The youkai glared, nose scrunching in a snarl.

He didn’t reply for a long, silent second until Daichi tugged his hair again.

He bared his teeth and spat,

You own me.

Daichi’s eyes widened and his grip on the youkai’s hair loosened until he was stepping away, shaking his head in irritation.

“What are you talking about?” Daichi asked, heart racing.


Own him?



The youkai paced the bathroom like a caged animal, hands clenched into fists at his side.

“When you were so kindly freeing me from my containment, you somehow cast a lifelink on me,” he paused and yanked the sleeve of his hakama up, displaying the wound on his ankle. “It’s a spiritual connection between powerful humans and youkai. Look at your hand,” he pointed and Daichi did as he said, staring at the pale glow emanating from his palm. “When you broke the seal on my prison, you grabbed me with that hand, and thus created a connection from that hand to this leg.”

“So…” he lowered his hand. “What does that mean? To… own you.”

“What does it mean?” the youkai danced back over to him. “Why, of course it means that I am your obedient servant! No… more like… a slave,” he bowed deeply. “Here for your enjoyment. Do whatever you wish with me, Master,” he peered up at him under dark lashes, eyes furious.

Daichi took a step back, “I don’t want to be your master.”

“Then maybe you should have thought about that before chaining me to you for the rest of your life,” the youkai straightened and turned away.

“I didn’t know I did it. I don’t know how I did it.”

“Wow, if only that mattered.”

Daichi stared at his back for long seconds. The black tattoos that circled around his stomach curled behind and connected at his spine.

He swallowed hard, “How do we undo it?”

The youkai let out a cackling laugh. It echoed through the bathroom.

Undo it?” he turned back to him, arms crossed over his chest. “Well… you can die, for one thing.”

“There’s gotta be another way.”

He narrowed his eyes. The look might be intimidating, but considering the seriousness of the situation, Daichi was strangely calm.

“There probably is another way,” the youkai agreed. “A ritual of release, or something like that. As to how one would do that… well that’s usually something the exorcist that formed the link would know.”

Daichi frowned, “But I don’t know. I don’t even know how I formed it in the first place.”

“Wow,” the youkai whispered. “If only that mattered.”

Daichi lifted his chin.

“So…” the youkai pranced up to him and pressed his hands to his chest, “Just let me eat you, mmkay?”

Daichi lifted his glowing fist and punched him in the head.

The youkai sunk to the floor, whimpering, “God damn it, why does that hurt so bad?”

Daichi stared at his hand, “Probably because I’m your master.”

“Ugh I fucking hate you.”

“Anyway,” Daichi turned back to the mirror. He peeled the paper towel away from his wound and examined it closely. It wasn’t as bad as he had thought. But it was very obviously a bite mark. There was no way Daichi could go to the nurse with that on his neck. His eye twitched. He looked down at the youkai where he pouted, legs crossed beneath him, rubbing his head dejectedly.

“It looks like we’re stuck together for the time being,” Daichi said. “So let’s just try to get along and I’ll figure something out, okay?”

The youkai clicked his tongue.

“It’s that, or keep fighting,” Daichi glared at him. “Want me to keep punching you with my magic hand?”

The youkai looked away, lips pressed tight in a hard line.

“I don’t want to be your master,” Daichi walked over to the trashcan and set it up again. He tossed his soiled paper towels away and grabbed new ones. “But I also don’t want to get eaten. So let’s just work together until I can figure out how to free you.”

The youkai didn’t speak for a long minute as Daichi folded the towels and pressed them to his neck, capturing the fresh drops of blood that swelled to the surface of his skin.

Finally, Daichi faced him and gave him a firm stare.


The youkai avoided his gaze, picking at his fingernails.

Deal?” Daichi repeated.

The youkai let out an exasperated sigh and climbed to his feet, “Fine! Deal!

Daichi offered his hand and the youkai gave it a wary look.

“Shake,” he said. “To seal the deal. You don’t try to eat me and I won’t abuse my master status.”

“You do realize that youkai do not abide by the silly… sealing of the dealing that humans do, right?”

“Just shake my damn hand.”

The youkai rolled his eyes and clasped Daichi’s hand.

They shook.

“By the way,” Daichi said. “My name. It’s Sawamura Daichi. You can call me Sawa—”

Daiiichi,” the youkai stepped close to him, nose nearly touching his.

Daichi flinched.

“Can I please have another taste?” the youkai purred. “Your blood… it’s really yummy, you know? Almost orgasmic. I don’t know if it’s because you’re my master or something… but it’s definitely the tastiest blood I’ve ever had.”

Daichi released his hand and moved back, “No. No more biting.”


“What’s your name?” he interrupted.

The youkai cocked his head to the side.

“What should I call you?” Daichi’s cheeks warmed.

Am I really talking to a youkai like just another human?

“Hmm… I wonder.”

The youkai’s tall ears twitched and he scratched behind the left one, eyes darting away.

“Do you not have a name?”

“Never really needed one,” he admitted, clasping his hands behind his back.

Daichi blinked in surprise, “Then… what did people call you? There must be something…

“Youkai titles are different from human ones,” he said. “Other youkai may refer to me by some such title but I answer to no name,” he turned away stubbornly and walked slowly across the bathroom.

“I can’t call you nothing,” Daichi argued, following.

“Why not?”

“Because that’s… that’s weird. How will you know when I’m talking to you?”

The youkai cocked an eyebrow and peered at him over his shoulder, “Because you will be talking to me. What kind of question is that? Are you a retard?”

Daichi huffed, “If you have no name then I’ll just give one to you.”

“Don’t want it.”

“Too bad. I’m not going to refer to you as nothing.”

The youkai growled and crossed his arms over his chest, “Humans do such unnecessary things.”


The youkai hesitated. He glanced up into Daichi’s face, blinking slowly, eyebrows raised.

“Sugawara,” Daichi repeated with a nod. “That’s what I’ll call you.”

The youkai looked away, lips pressing together. Daichi watched as he shifted from one foot to the other and then lifted slightly off of the ground to hover in air.

“Whatever,” he said softly, cheeks tinting pink. “Do what you want.”

Daichi stared in shock.

Holy fuck.

He pressed the paper towels tighter to the side of his neck, forcing the stinging pain to grow.

Because no.


Daichi did not just think a youkai was cute.

No way in fucking hell.

HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION: If you have A LOT of work and stuff to do in some very short time like… 2 days, yep 2 effing days and you skipped your classes because you wanted to go home early so you could have more time to work on the stuff you have to do… So tell me, what kind of shitty sketchy OTP drawing would you do?

I’m trash :3

kiwipose  asked:

hi can i request an imagine? i'm the shy girl and harry's the popular kid at our school. i have brown hair that waves perfectly to the middle of my back and brown eyes that sparkle in the sun. no one notices me bc i'm different, but harry does. he sees me one day eating corn and calls me corn girl. we get closer and he asks me out in some CORNy way hehe! his pet name for me is corny and one day he tells me... "hey corny... i'm horny." hehe! pls include his accent thank u <3

hope u enjoy!

Hello my name is lana , I hate going to school.

Im what you would called “the shy girl”. So no one likes me. I am 5 feet 3 inches and beautiful but Im ugly. 

“‘Ey smexii cohn (A/N: corn in british) xD” I hear a deep british voice say from behind me. Ugh. Its harry Styles from one direction. He has deep green eyes that are the color of sewer water and his luccious chocolate hair blows in the wind. Also he has a british accent. Every girl talks about his 10 inch schlong.

i drop my corn. Harry laughs at me. 

“Thats not my name” I said. 

“yes it is smexix corn” Harry says british-ly (A/N: i dont think thats a word xDD)

Then we start kissing. His tongue smashes my mouth walls. I have 7 orgasms right there on top of my corn.

“Ive loohved yeh fro’ afah f’so long, corny” Harry whispers. I swoon because hes so romantic and poetic.

“me too Harry” I wisper also. we have the sexy times xD

~The End~


#ever the gentleman

#181 Wedding planning

Dan: “Okay, this is one of the last things we have to do before we are completely set. I’m so excited now!” You grinned and shook your fists a little.

“Me too!” He sat up a little and smiled. “What is it?”

“The cake. I don’t think we need to do anything super fancy, probably just like two or three layers?” You suggested.

“Sounds good to me. Chocolate, right?” He leaned on his elbows.

“Are you kidding? I hate chocolate cake! We need to do vanilla.” You raised your eyebrows.

“Ugh, vanilla isn’t as good though,” he groaned.

“Alright, fine. How about red velvet?” You sighed.

“I hate red velvet.” He held back a laugh.

“I’m going to stab you with this pen.”

Phil: “I don’t know, I just think the rose centerpiece is much prettier.” He put his hands on his hips.

“But the roses are more expensive and yeah they go with the color scheme but honestly they’re kind of ugly.” You looked at him.

“They are not ugly! What do you suggest then?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“I like the peonies.” You stated.

“Ugh, those are way uglier than the roses!” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes and let out an exasperated laugh. “You are making things so difficult!” You squeezed your arms around him tightly.

“Sorry you have bad taste in centerpieces!” He shook you.