I'm fucking shadowbanned on twitter so no one is seeing and enjoying the wips I'm posting of my 'ranpo gets turned into little ranpo' fic i revived bc the manga invigorated me so I'm posting it here
#rchiwip | #bsdfic
simwh wip #rchiwip
yasui 'no one deserves my little sister' ryosuke and his new apprentice ookura 'get away from my sensei's sister' teruko
Writing tags:
#rchific - posting fic promos
#rchiwip - fic wips
#rchidea - future possible fic ideas
He waits for her to roll over and face him, or perhaps even onto her back, but surprisingly... Tsujimura does something he doesn’t expect. Waving her hand sluggishly, the woman instead replies, “Do it yourself then, I really need to sleep.” ... Do ‘it’ himself? Just what was she implying? Dazai's eyes twinkle mischievously. He wonders if she can feel his heart racing faster against her back. “You mean... I can have fun with you by myself?” “Mmhh...” He takes that as a yes. It must be, because even when he slides a hand down to slide in between his girlfriend’s thighs, she doesn't swat his hand away or scold him as she usually would when emphasizing she wasn’t in the mood. This could be... really fun. They haven’t done something like this yet.
dazamura wip warm up 🤭😝 i like them a lot hehe a jp friend of mine used to draw them, they were so cute 🥺🥺
#rchiwip
Barok is not the first person anyone thinks of when they hear the words tender, affectionate, or loving. Meeting his gaze for longer than five seconds was enough to give any average man depression for a solid week, even— Truth be told, though, he never wanted this to be the case. Once upon a time, he was a kinder, gentler person, but you turn into some misshapen version of yourself the second you allow your grief to consume you. By the time you break the surface of that mourning, it has melted you down from the core outward, and what is left is an unnatural mannequin that looks just enough like you to not be questioned. Barok has spent countless days over a decade just staring at himself in the mirror, glaring at the monster he became. (At the monster he was turned into against his will, so cleverly manipulated he truly thought he had a choice.) Even if he were to be the happiest person alive for the next decade straight, he doesn’t think that would fix the lines that are engraved into his face like a statue... like a gargoyle that crouches over a church ledge, mouth full of teeth and eyes empty. Simply put: he’s a terrifying man. He understands this. He’s even seen children start crying at the mere presence of him, because their mothers have used his existence to create fantastic bedtime stories to convince them not to err along the path of crime.
The ever-familiar Sherlock Holmes, donned in a black suit with a striped pink bow tie, smiles back at him without flinching as he leans against the doorframe. He looks as cool and confident as ever, in that incredibly annoying way. In the depths of Barok’s soul, where he’ll never even admit to it, a part of him is envious of that ballsy personality right now. “... Here to drag me out, I assume, detective,” Barok greets as he straightens himself and turns to face his visitor. “Well, this is a ball, so attending would be redundant if you didn’t go out and dance a little.” Barok turns his head away, tugging at his gloves in some awkward tick, “I’m out of practice. It’s been years since I attended any event like this, and even when I did—” “Nobody wants to dance with death?” Sherlock finishes, unable to wait for Barok to confirm his words before he throws his head back with a mighty laugh that only Sherlock Holmes can give. “A shame! Not everyone can say they have achieved such a thing— is it not an accomplishment?” Sigh. This man is always so loud. It gives Barok a headache. “What do you want, Holmes?” Sherlock hums, folding his arms. “Did you not already deduce it? I’m here to drag you back out— at the request of a very enthusiastic niece of yours.”
#rchiwip
AWKWARD UNCLE BAROK [SOON TO BE] DANCING WITH HIS NIECE BE UPON YE
#rchiwip writing for the next day in my flufftober prompts! people on twitter voted for my historical omegaverse au, so here's a sneak peek of that ♥
(it's a bit saucy)
A snippet from an original work that is an original rendition of the sherlockian universe. William James Moriarty is a priest living under complicated circumstances, Sherlock Holmes is an unruly detective that is frustrating, but undeniably skilled at deduction. -- Sherlock leans over William’s shoulder. William can feel the obnoxious smile wafting from the young detective before he even speaks, “A pence or two for your thoughts, Father Moriarty?” William closes his book with a sigh, deadpanning into the distant nothingness. “You don’t have a single pence to your name, detective.” Sherlock lifts a finger, wagging it in a chiding manner. “Not true!” That makes the priest look up and arch a brow. “Oh?” “I was paid my monthly allowance just yesterday, I’ll have you know.”
me: yeah i write original novels
also me: is too invested on scribbling down the yaoi parts first before the actual storyline
#rchiwip
- Dazai: my honest thoughts might be an attack on your optimism, i fear. - fuku: then do your best to land a substantial blow to my beliefs. - at the end of the day, a part of dazai is still a child. he can't resist a good challenge, and fuku very much knows that and takes advantage of it. - dazai: humans are animals too-- are we not? - fuku: we are - dazai: but unlike any other animal in the world, humans have two things other animals do not.
#rchiwip making a tag separate for my wips now actually oops
anyway images taken before a grown man gets humbled for trying to be edgy. for my yakuzazai fic i am still plotting out
