yami bakura: is that a knife in your pocket or are you happy to see me?
marik: what do you think?
yami bakura: god, please tell me it’s a knife.
marik: …
yami bakura: …
marik: …i’m just. gonna go, uh- take care of this…
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Papy Playtime, anyone? I dunno, the right people will get what I'm putting down. (Sorry if any part of it looks weird, I'm not used to drawing with a mouse)
Please don't repost my art; like or reblog instead.
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*please disregard the 'string' on the second option! if you play any other instrument that relates to short nails, you may click on that option :)
*sensory issues could fall under 'make me feel weird' or 'other'
*health issues, dysphoria, typing and work may fall under 'other' too!
i kind of posted this on impulse and didn't expect to reach such a wide audience, so i missed a lot of possible reasons. thank you to those who clarified in the tags and allowed me to be aware :)
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Lucifer: Soooo, what’s Alastor’s type?
Angel: Blond, short, oblivious, likes ducks.
Lucifer: Kinda sounds like me. Too bad we hate each other.
Angel: Did I mention oblivious?
Lucifer: Yeah, why?
Angel: *mentally celebrating the bet he’s going to win* Just making sure.
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Alright yall know neighbor!AUs are my bread and butter so I present to you: one Neighbor!Simon Riley. Just some preliminary thoughts:
Definitely not the type to go around introducing himself to the existing neighborhood. He may give you a polite wave if you pass him on the sidewalk or something, but that's about it.
Only opens the blinds very, very rarely. In fact, the only way you can usually tell he's even home is if his modest pickup truck is in the drive.
So it takes months before you even figure out what his voice sounds like.
Some of your mail probably gets delivered to his place by mistake, so he brings it over just in time to catch you walking to your car.
It's. A very short conversation lol. Just a quick "got your mail by mistake" and a quick nod when you thank him.
But, unbeknownst to you, the exchange is different for him. You've caught his eye.
It takes several more weeks after that first "conversation", but at some point you notice that stuff outside just. Starts being done for you while you're not there.
The grass is mowed. The leaves are raked up. The gutters are cleaned out. The snow is shoveled out of the driveway.
You know it's him. It's the only sensible possibility.
But if you ask him, he denies, denies, denies. Or says he was already doing his own thing and it was no big deal to just tack yours on.
Try to thank him and he just sort of. Waves you off. So you try to repay him by bringing him dinner or things like that.
It's a. Tenuous definition of friendship, but it's there.
To the point where he asks you to grab his mail while he's deployed elsewhere. He trusts you to not go through it.
Its not too long before he notices that he's thinking of you when he's gone. Wondering what you're up to. If you're okay.
He finds himself coming to you when he returns home. He can't divulge details of his work, but he can at least see that you're alright.
The first time you stay the night at his house is when the power knocks out during an ice storm. He's all but adamant that you stay with him, just for safety's sake.
It's also the first time you wake up in his arms. When he wakes, he pulls you closer instead of pushing you away before he can even think twice.
He feels like he can be vulnerable with you. Like he can let his guard down. You're his soft, safe place to land after witnessing so much death and destruction.
For the first time in a very, very long time, Simon Riley realizes he has something to look forward to. A reason to come home.
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