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#a lil deranged
flowerflamestars · 2 months
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The FNAF game Mike and Vanessa are a lil quirky,,
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clouvu · 6 months
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Offering lil doodles of them bc my eyes have been opened
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cringefail-clown · 10 months
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putting cat tier jake in cat pictures ive found on the internet
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functioningtrashcan · 6 months
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One thing that really bugs me about certain fandoms now (specifically the Spiderverse fandom at the moment) is that it's downright impossible to like certain characters around *those* fans.
Like, I can't say ONE good thing about Miguel's characterization without hearing about how Miguel fans are horny weirdos who condone abuse.
Sure, a lot of Miguel fans are horny as all hell, but liking a character =/= thinking they are perfect and can do no wrong. Hell, even *understanding* a character's motives doesn't even mean we're condoning it.
Yeah, Miguel was 100% wrong for chokeslamming Miles into a train. But, at the same time, I could understand getting pissed and freaking out about one (1) kid who's about to cause the multiversal apocalypse via messed up trolley problem. I can understand feeling like no one else is taking the situation seriously, and that you have to do everything yourself because you can't even rely on more than 4 people in your strike force of probably millions. I, too, would get mad at a hardheaded teenager who seems ready to make the same mistake I made that cost me my family.
I can, at the same time, understand being young and scared, trying to prevent a family member's death, not knowing who to trust, and running for my life because there's not a single person in the multiverse who seems willing to honestly help.
That's the beauty of not being trapped in the narrative: you can simultaneously see and appreciate *every* character's perspective, because all those perspectives influence the characters' actions and the story as a whole. I don't *have* to condone a character's actions to like them or their role in the story.
And it would DEFINITELY make the fandom space less insufferable to contribute to if half the fans weren't so obsessed with being perfectly moral angels who only support cinnamon rolls who can do no wrong. But that just me, I guess.
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assiraphales · 7 months
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luffy specifically goes to find roronoa zoro because he's called the demon pirate hunter, and roronoa zoro specifically joins luffy after making a deal & calling him the devil's son, and somehow they ended up being so well matched (and on the same wavelenth of stupid) that they have inside jokes n r communicating nonverbally within a week & zoro becomes steadfastly loyal and devoted to his captain and his crew almost immediately
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seawaveleo · 5 months
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red impulse with red impulses
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ghostiiest · 1 year
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redrew that one teen titans page where tims a lil deranged
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firelise · 7 months
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I support women's rights, women's wrongs, and women's batshit insanities. Only Friends (2023) Ep 10
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I cannot remember how to draw those Lil Lego dudes, here take best boy.
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ventiswampwater · 7 months
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American Cinematographer - Vol. 86, No. 5, May 2005
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hyunsung · 2 years
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hyunjin via bubble ☁️
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punskina · 9 months
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grant us eyes, grant us eyes
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operationtimeguard · 3 months
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happy ch 112 day! have some bsd picmixes
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wraithsoutlaws · 6 months
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"Kid had the bluest eyes you'd ever seen but they were deader than bargain bin Kiroshis. He never said where he came from. He wouldn't be the first Raffen that Coyote let into our ranks, if that's what he was. It wouldn't surprise me. I'll never forget his first night with us. See, fresh meat gets the welcoming committee—we all take turns throwing punches at the newest member. 'That's the true bond of brotherhood,' Coyote used to say or some shit. Usually it's one each. Then we grab a beer 'round the campfire, plan the next job, you know. But this kid, swear to God, he kept asking for more. In the dirt, spitting up his own blood...that's the only time I ever saw him smile. He disappeared a couple years later when it all turned to shit. Sometimes I wonder what happened to him, but I'll tell you what. I'd never want to run into him on a lonely highway." — Gadget Berry, "True Tales of the Open Road" (2087)
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vasito-de-leche · 4 months
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;R1999 PAVIA - "sleeping dogs"
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Pavia x Reader. 2k words. fluff Pavia's eye bags keep getting bigger and bigger, so you take matters into your own hands and force him to take a nap with you.
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starting the sleepytime saga about blorbos getting some good fucking rest and writing a oneshot about it everytime i get sleepy because the world could do with better naps and more zzz's
this was all self-indulgent fluffy mess to make up for the constant FMN bullying in other posts
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"You'll get sleepy in no time, trust me on this."
"Like hell I will," despite his protests, Pavia dutifully follows after you. Once you two reach the edge of the bed, he makes a show out of kicking off his shoes while pouting the whole time, if only to continue rebelling against you and your ideas. "What am I? A kid?"
"You're a grown ass man, Pavia - so act like it."
That gets a snicker out of him, and he instantly seethes about it - he's meant to be mad at you for suggesting something stupid. What follows is a long groan and a roll of the eyes, but he knows you're pretending not to hear him as you climb into the mess of pillows and blankets that he calls a bed. As usual, his room is a damn mess.
"It's just a nap, it won't kill you. Promise!"
It only takes a moment for you to get comfortable, rambling about the "golden hour" for naps - according to you, it was good to leave the curtains partially drawn to allow a small amount of sunlight into the room.
You're so convinced of this that Pavia can't bring himself to remind you: he doesn't need any type of light to see, his eyes having long adjusted to being shrouded in darkness. Instead, he lets you ramble as he makes his way to close the door.
Before he can do so, however, a few dark figures stumble and slide inside, all of them a little more eager and curious at the prospect of napping than their master.
Andrea sniffs around you while Tonika and Leon claim their spots under the bed, their snouts and goofy smiles partially visible. Peter makes an attempt to hop onto the mattress, but slips off and settles for laying down at his master's feet.
Pavia, of course, glares at them as if betrayed. The only one who stands by his side is Maleficent, imitating his expression to the best of her ability.
"Are you seeing this shit, Maleficent? Traitors, all of 'em."
The wolf in question huffs in agreement, and Pavia reluctantly sits down next to you, waiting for your permission.
It's only once you pat the empty space next to you - his spot, for him and the pack only - that Pavia plops down. Unlike you, he rests over the blankets and casually clasps his hands over his stomach, idly looking at the ceiling. With his schedule being all over the place and his unusual reservations, sleep is something Pavia does out of immediate necessity. Only allowing himself to sleep for a handful of hours when his body is at the brink of collapse, and so he finds himself wondering what to do now that you're forcing him to sleep recreationally.
Even so, his body language is relaxed and comfortable, that casual and lazy air he only has whenever he's around you. This is his home, after all.
Pavia doesn't think about the basement in Piedmont, but he sure holds his breath on instinct for a second. It's an old, nasty habit - the aftermath of all of his constant screaming and begging, as there was nothing else to do but sit and wait for someone to let him out. In the stillness of the room, he can hear everything: your breathing and his own, faint voices outside in the wilderness, someone passing by in the hallway - it's that kid with the balloons, judging by sound of her skipping around. The darkness cannot hurt him, not when he's reclaimed power over it, not when he's with you and the pack.
Something shifts in his peripheral. It's you, propped on your elbows and leaning over him.
"Don't tell me you're going to sleep with your glasses on." You don't wait for an answer and reach out to gently take them off, placing them neatly on the nightstand. For some reason, Pavia feels a little naked without them. "There, much better! Is that how you wanna sleep, then?"
Your question gives him pause, and he immediately defaults to his usual antics. "Now you're gonna tell me how to lay down? What's this, some dumb pop quiz I didn't prepare for? Next thing, you'll be telling me how to snore properly."
"Alright, fine, damn! But it's sooo cozy and toasty under the blankets." To prove your point, you slide down and sink deeper into the mattress, humming with that content expression. The blankets cover half of your face, and your big, dumb, bright eyes look up at him with mischief and amusement. "You're missing out."
"And you're going to start hogging the blankets the second you fall asleep, so what's the point?"
This isn't the first and it won't be the last time you two sleep together in the same bed, he knows your sleeping habits like the back of his hand by now. Pavia makes sure to pay attention to each and every little detail when it comes to you, after all.
"Oh my god, Pavia - just get in. It's easier this way." Pavia does as told, only because you're the one asking so nicely, and he lays on his side to face you. "Perfect, now come here."
"You're awfully bossy today, did you notice?"
He leans in once your hands reach out to cradle his face, rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs and coaxing him, ever so slowly, into resting his head on the space between your shoulder and your neck. There is no resistance from Pavia's part, the way his body melts with yours is automatic - like old pieces of a well-loved puzzle that simply click together time and time again.
Pavia's arms wrap around your torso and he brings you even closer, impossibly so, as if wanting to merge with you. The content sigh gives him away, and he wishes he could see your expression once he smiles into your skin. You were right, it is much better this way. There's no way Pavia could ever get tired of touching you like this.
"Getting sleepy?"
"Not yet," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, wondering whether to leave kisses or start biting you. He settles for the latter, a way to get back at you - it's a gentle nip that catches you off-guard, if that small gasp of protest is anything to go by. "If you want me to fall asleep, you're doing a really shitty job."
For a moment, he thinks you're mad at him when no answer comes, usually you'd pinch his back or bite him back. Instead, he feels your fingers softly carding through his hair, your nails on his scalp, moving in slow sweeping motions. Okay, maybe he spoke a little too soon. Being surrounded by you felt like heaven.
Pavia shifts, now burying his face in your chest. Like this, he can hear your heartbeat loud and clear, and he closes his eyes to take in the sound, committing it to memory.
While he's far from falling asleep any time soon, the weight and stress of the daily routine has certainly left his shoulders. Everything about you is soft and welcoming, and he has to restrain himself from biting you again once he feels you lean in, just to kiss the top of his head.
Fuck it, he bites the nearest spot, unable to contain his affection for you. The way he shows love might be unorthodox, but what matters to Pavia is that you understand the thought behind each action and word - he loves with an open mouth, greedy and full of love. A big bad wolf, one hair away from eating you up. And even then, he never bites hard enough to leave any marks nor to hurt you, not unless you ask him to.
Your laugh resonates in your throat and he keeps you from squirming away just to feel it vibrate in your neck.
Between this and your heartbeat, he doesn't know which one to pick as his favorite sound. The way you say his name behind closed doors, so softly and so gently just for him to hear, is definitely up there with the others in his personal ranking.
"Stop biting and start sleeping, idiot." There's a happy tone in your voice, one that urges him to continue bothering you.
"Easier said than done, stupid."
Taking your free hand, the one that tried so rudely to push him away in protest, Pavia presses his lips against your knuckles, one by one. You seem to like that, as hinted by the way your legs tangle up with his, locking him in place.
"I swear I'm doing my best here to get you to stop moving. Try counting sheep? Or wolves, I guess. Speaking of..."
You make an attempt to look for the pack, only for Pavia to pull you back down. He doesn't need to count the wolves, he knows exactly where they are - nestled together under the bed, laying down in the middle of the room with their soft, fluffy bellies on display, so drowsy and happy to exist in the same time and space as you. It's no mystery that each and every wolf is an extension of himself, a shameless display of his own thoughts and feelings, and even though this is something you're fully aware of, Pavia would rather save himself the embarrassment of admitting any of this.
"Now you're the one moving around, interrupting my precious sleep. What do you have to say for yourself?" He teases, hoping you'll indulge him and keep bantering back and forth - but you press a gentle kiss to his forehead instead.
"My bad..." Pavia knows you're not gonna last any longer the moment a yawn interrupts your words, and he's right - you don't speak anymore after this.
Your grip on him loosens gradually. First, it's the hand that kept playing with his hair, now gently petting him until it slowly comes to rest on the back of his neck. It's warm, so very warm. Next is your breathing, slow and steady, along with the rise and fall of your chest. Pavia nuzzles into it, feeling himself breathe in perfect harmony with you. And finally, your legs - he feels you kicking around, curling up and clumsily drawing the blankets towards you until his legs are exposed to the cold.
There it is, he thinks to himself, smitten and endeared by your sleepy crimes. It doesn't matter though, soon enough the whole pack comes climbing into the bed, forming a soft, black mass at the edge and near your feet. All of them unable to stay away from you, just like him.
Silence settles in and the world grows loud once again.
The soft panting from the pack, the voices outside, the constant stream of steps and life all over the house. Someone is in the kitchen, there's the telltale sound of glass against wood. Somewhere else, a door closes and another creaks open.
Pavia knows that you would never dare to ask the reason behind his awful sleep habits, and there's no way he could ever explain the totality of it- yet here you are, trying to help him nonetheless. It's annoying to have you constantly point out the bags under his eyes, but he respects you for it, for having the nerve to call him out and set him straight when needed. Part of him revels in the undivided attention and scrutiny, to have you all to himself whenever you scold him, examining his tired eyes.
He wonders if you know the power you hold over him, how impossible it is for him to tear his eyes from you. Even now as you sleep, Pavia feels himself slowly forget about the outside world in favour of your soft murmurs, those dumb little sounds you make that he can't get enough of.
You're doing so much for him, perhaps it's about time for him to meet you halfway. From his spot, he looks up at you one last time - he wants this view to be the last thing he sees before he drifts into a dreamless sleep.
"Night, vita mia. Don't let the bed wolves bite."
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