Got So Bored Yesterday And Spent Way Too Long Colouring A Manga Panel. He Makes Me Ill And Rabid And

love the periodicity with which these freaks return back to the forefront of my brain. like clockwork

Hi my name is Senku "still recovering from a bullet wound but I'm gonna get on this fighter plane and walk away unscathed after it crashes" Ishigami and I have interesting hobbies

dunno what to caption this. I was looking at my hxh character pinterest boards and snagged some stuff off of there to make these

im watching the new dcst w my roommate, i love them so much

It's so nice being on tumblr because you don't even have to make your own post but people would still follow you anyways if you're good at rebloging posts they like

I remember reading a comic about Gen doing some of the S America stuff, but it was in Japanese and I can not find it any more lol (sorry if that increased your suffering, but it is out there!)

I also have a carnal need for crash-out Senku lmao

dr stone fics i desperately need

senku crashing out

gen being chosen instead of suika at the end of south america arc (which apparently ALMOST HAPPENED)

gen being the kos therapist and counseling everyone 1-on-1

uni professor!gen and senku falling for him

sengen forced in one bed

💚💙

I love when platonic love and romantic love is so blurred that it doesn’t even matter anymore. All that matters is the devotion that’s there, the unwavering devotion

（≧∇≦）

girl, could you do a touch starved senku oneshot? GN reader please

Cling Radius:

(Word Count: 736 // Spoilers: none)

The nights out here were colder than you remembered. Not colder in temperature—though, granted, sleeping in an open-roofed hut was a far cry from central heating—but colder in tone. Quiet in that eerie, ancient way. No distant hum of city lights, no soft rumble of traffic. Just crickets. And the occasional howl that sounded way too close.

Still, none of that explained why Senku was pressed to your back like a goddamn second skin.

You blinked up at the thatched ceiling, eyes adjusting to the moonlight spilling in from above, your limbs still half-asleep. Senku was out cold behind you, chest rising in slow, steady rhythm, one arm draped heavy over your middle, the other wedged under your neck like a makeshift pillow. His long legs were tangled with yours in a mess of barely-washed sheets, and he smelled faintly of charcoal and mint leaves.

You didn’t dare move.

Not because you didn’t want to. But because you were still trying to process what the hell this was.

When you were revived, the first thing you remembered—after the scream-inducing sensation of skin cracking back to life—was Senku’s face hovering above yours, tense but relieved. He’d cracked some stupid science joke, you’d flipped him off, and everything had felt strangely normal.

Except… it wasn’t.

Because Senku, for all his scientific detachment and emotionally stunted habits pre-petrification, had not stopped touching you since.

A guiding hand at your lower back. A shoulder bump when no one else was watching. Fingers brushing yours when he passed tools or water. A low, murmured “You good?” as his knuckles barely grazed your jaw to check your fever that didn’t exist. And now—this. Night after night of you waking up basically cocooned in the human version of a space heater with freakishly pointy hair.

You tilted your head slightly. His breath was warm against your neck. A little uneven now that you were shifting.

“Senku,” you whispered, just to see if he was awake.

No response. He only curled tighter.

His hand slid from your waist to your stomach, fingers splaying out like he was subconsciously making sure you were still there. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

You bit your lip and held still a little longer. Not out of awkwardness anymore, but out of… curiosity.

Because, yeah. Before the whole stone-world and de-petrification and war stuff, Senku wouldn’t have touched you with a ten-foot pole unless it involved CPR or slapping a lab coat on you. He wasn’t cold, not exactly—but his mind was always elsewhere. Always calculating. Intimacy wasn’t a formula he prioritized.

Now?

Now, he curled around you like the night would take you away.

Eventually, his voice—low and cracked with sleep—broke the silence.

“You’re overthinking again.”

You flinched. “You're awake?”

“Barely,” he mumbled, nuzzling into your shoulder. His nose was freezing. “But I can feel your heartbeat trying to vibrate through the dirt floor. It's annoying.”

You were silent for a beat. “You’re literally clinging to me.”

“Because you were cold.”

“I wasn't cold.”

“You could’ve been.”

“…You really think that holds up as logic?”

Senku gave a sleepy scoff, which somehow translated into a snort and a hum. “Shut up. Let me have this.”

You blinked at the ceiling again, mouth twitching.

“So what—post-petrification side effect is... extreme clinginess?”

“Maybe,” he muttered. “Brain’s the same. Body’s not. People change.”

You let out a breath, soft. “You used to be so weird about touch.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, barely audible now, his fingers twitching once against your stomach before relaxing, “you’re here now.”

That quieted you.

Because it wasn’t said dramatically. It wasn’t even said sweetly. It was just true. And in that moment, it hit you: in this war-torn, half-dead, primitive second life, Senku had lost a lot. Most things, maybe. But you? You were one of the few things he got back.

And apparently, he wasn’t planning on letting you go again.

“…Do you do this with everyone?” you teased lightly, trying to shake off the tight feeling in your chest.

“Hell no,” he said without missing a beat.

And you felt his arm tighten around you again—like an instinct. Like a reflex.

“Just you,” he added, softer this time. “Don’t make it weird.”

Too late, you thought, cheeks warming.

But you didn’t move. You didn’t want to.

Not when his touch—awkward, unconscious, needy—was the warmest thing left in this world.

:,(

Whenever in the Moonbrooke chapter, I can only imagine Crea is in a lot of pain and that she's noticably eerie-looking, alongside the canonical thing of losing her smile.

I tend to dress her in blue during that part, so I reflected that here.

she doesnt on my nothing til i dont

#MYNOTHING