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#hungry for head
puppyeared · 4 months
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my attempt at making a fursona
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molsquinn · 1 year
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electrozeistyking · 3 months
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Tiny Disassembler Tries To Put Himself in Second Food Coma; Girlfriend Won't Let Him
(you better believe that first time was an accident)
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easyaesthetics · 6 months
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Happy 4 year anniversary, Persona 5 Royal!
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jururenu · 1 year
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day 5: growth / habits
he likes rain now
happy birthday my sweet baby
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evilfarmin · 1 year
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Ghost hunger au sksksksms 👻👻👻
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one-time-i-dreamt · 1 year
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I told my mum I was hungry so she brought me a dragon's head and gave me a spoon and just left.
I've had this dream twice.
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tinyclowndancer · 4 months
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Now that you're in my bed In the dark chamber of my head I flip you over until you bend This winding road
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writingsbychlo · 10 months
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How would our drunk batboys will react with their mates ? 😭❤️
RHYSAND:
"(Y/N)!" Rhysand's sudden shout was out of the blue, enough to make you jump as you lounged on the couch, book on hand. Closing it gently after marking the page, you listened to the chaos. "Darling! My darling!"
You listened as he stumbled to kick off his shoes, the sound of material hitting the floor - his jacket failing to make it to the coat hook, no doubt - and fell into the wall.
"Where are you?"
"I'm right in here, Rhys." You finally spoke, giggling a little but the sound was quickly cut off as the man appeared before you. Facing the wrong was, his winnow brought him unsteadily right to the edge of the couch, and he spun on his heel, whipping around to find you. As his gaze landed on you, a sunshine-smile split his face. "Hello, my love."
"My darling, my mate. Hi." And with that, he gave you no time to discard your book, before he was falling down atop you, crushing the air from your lungs and ignoring your groaned complaint. "Missed you."
"You're crushing me!"
"Missed you. Say it back." He left a kiss to your neck, another on your shoulder, and you wrestled your arms free from underneath him.
"I would if I could breathe!"
Propping himself up on shaky arms, his nose bumped your own, a soft kiss brushing across your lips, and you could still taste the whiskey on his lips. "You don't normally complain this much when I'm on top of you."
"Always so full of jokes when you drink, huh?"
"I'm a comedian, darling!"
AZRIEL:
"Hi, baby, I love you," Az mumbled, smiling so wide his eyes closed and his dimples were on full display. "Hi, baby! I love you!"
"Welcome home, Azzy." You teased, raising your brows at him as he swayed a little on the spot, standing at the end of the bed. "Did you have fun?"
"Yeah, but I missed you."
"Do you wanna get ready for bed, and then come cuddle?" Holding your arms open, he nodded happily, making no move to actually shift from his spot, his eyes closing again.
"Saw a girl that had a purple dress like yours."
"Oh, yeah?" You sighed, trying to resist the smile tugging at your lips as you kicked off the covers, making your way over to him. At the feel of your hands on his arms, slowly trying to guide him, his gaze popped back to you. "Was it a better dress than mine? Mine is old, now."
"You wore it on our first date!" He mused, letting you guide him towards the bathroom, only to be seated on the edge of the tub, wings drooping behind him. "I'll buy you a new purple dress if you want."
"That's okay, Azzy. I have plenty of dresses." Your words were all but pressed to his ear as you leaned around him to find the catches under his wings, and he hummed happily, looping his arms around you like a hug.
"Then what should I buy you?" His arms raised up over his head as you lifted his shirt off, only to return to gripping you tightly and pulling you into his body as soon as it was off.
"Nothing, you don't need to buy me anything."
"But how will you know how much I love you?" He pouted, and you pecked his lips, the smile you loved forming again as soon as you pulled back.
"You can just tell me, and I'll believe you."
"Okay. I love you. I love you like the waves love the moon, and like the stars love the night sky."
CASSIAN:
"Well, hello, pretty lady." Cassian tried to lean on the doorframe, missing it entirely and stumbling to the side as he almost fell, and you covered your mouth, sitting up a little further to see if he was okay. "I'm all good! Nothin' can hurt me, doll, I'm strong. Wanna' see?"
At that, he pulled up the bottom of his damp shirt, flashing his defined abs and smirking.
"Touch 'em."
"That's alright, Cass." He only shook his head, dropping his shirt and wandering over to you with uneven steps. "Did that hurt?"
"Did what hurt?" He echoed emptily, eyes closing in on your midnight snack sitting on the table in front of you.
"When you just fell through the door, are you okay?"
"I don't know, did it hurt for you?" He rebutted, slumping down onto the couch, half on top of you, with part of your sandwich in hand. He was quick to tear off an excessively large bite.
"When I fell?"
"Yeah." He spoke aorund the food, choking down a half-chewed mouthful before smirking again. "When you fell from Heaven."
"Oh, my Gods, Cassian!"
He only beamed.
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Thank you Harvey for having mercy on my 2 gold
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Neuvillete is definitely the type to ask you "Did you drink any water today" if you say you have a headache
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bearnakedbaker · 8 months
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BREAKFAST
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calciumdreams · 7 months
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lazy afternoon
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pandaspwnz · 3 months
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So I don't think this is actually the case but what if Eliza and Isaac's deaths werent over a petty amount of cash and a robbery gone wrong? What if, instead, Dutch had seen Arthur spending time with them, had perceived him slipping away as a threat: a threat to himself, his gang, his security, his family, afraid of losing his lead enforcer - whether he truly at that point did love him like a son, or not. And in his insecurity or fear or whatever other reason, he finds someone rotten, unrelated to the gang, and he pays them to murder Eliza and her little boy, so no one will ever tempt Arthur away from the flock, and he instead puts all his energy and time into the gang, the only family he has left.
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Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh concept :000
Harbinger!Reader
That's it that's the ask ajsdfklakjdwobdisdhosdbs
OOOOOOHHHH OH THAT'S A GOOD ONE OMNOMNOMNONM
you're the Fair Lady's replacement, a good fit too, with your calm and reasonable demeanor- perfect for diplomacy, perhaps even better than the late La Signora herself in that category. while you can't say that you're rivals or at odds with any of your coworkers, you certainly aren't close to them either; you're all very private people, preferring to work alone, which is fitting since you all have different duties corresponding to your rank. so no, you can't say that any of the other Harbingers are your friends
well. except, maybe, for Tartaglia
the Eleventh began pestering you the moment you joined the ranks, asking you to spar or train or help him with weaponry. why? who knows. your expertise lies in negotiating and forging connections with other nations, mostly for Snezhnaya's benefit of course, not battles or sparring, and you tell him as such. eventually he does settle down but still sticks to you like glue when both of you are at Headquarters, talking your ear off as you listen and in return allowing you to speak the few words that you have to say- to be frank, you find his stories much more interesting than your relatively routine Harbinger duties, yet whenever you do speak up Tartaglia hangs onto your every word, deep azure eyes wide and earnest
he even trusts you enough to show you Foul Legacy, the monstrous Abyssal creature ironically sweeter and gentler than his human counterpart, delicately sniffing you and nuzzling his face against your hair with a soft purr when you first meet. he's vaguely aware of how dangerous Tartaglia's work is so Legacy ALWAYS frets over you when you're gone, even if Tartaglia repeatedly tells him that your job is not the same as his, and immediately when you return to Snezhnaya you're pulled aside by a certain ginger-haired Harbinger, a goofy smile on his face as he squeezes you tight before willingly relinquishing his body to Foul Legacy, who immediately bumps his forehead against yours and rumbles in delight. he loves listening to you speak, so he tugs you onto his lap and nudges your hand until you tell him about your travels, voice calm and steady as he absorbs every word you say, somewhere deep in Zapolyarny Palace <3
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I've been thinking about how Vash always seems to be hungry. Or at least, that he's shown eating quite often in the manga. Happily having his salmon sandwiches. Eating an entire box of donuts in the side car. Knowing the conversion rate of bullets to pizza. Seeing a flower and immediately wondering if it's edible. Pondering his life over breakfast. It's a really cute little character detail about him - he likes food.
But then I kind of started to think about the angel arm and its specific brand of destruction. How there were no bodies to be recovered. Nothing but a crater left of July, left on the Fifth Moon. It's all been incinerated. Devoured, even. Tristamp takes it even a step further and makes the power something akin to a black hole - a yawning drain; a constant destructive hunger.
Vash is clearly terrified of this potential for destruction, and for very good reason. But it's not separate from him as some kind of "power he can't control" - it's his arm. It's literally his arm. It is him. Vash is scared of himself, scared of losing control. He does what he can to repress it, even subconsciously (the gaps in his memory whenever it activates). He can't control it in the moment, so he takes steps to preemptively push it down, to avoid the use of his abilities entirely, to hide himself away.
I talked a bit in a previous post about how there are probably several interrelated reasons for Vash's chronically avoidant behaviour, but I'd like to throw one more into the ring and suggest that it's not just a matter of not deserving to want things, but maybe also that he's afraid of wanting. That if he allows himself to even think about what he wants personally that he'll want too much, take too much, and that the only cure in his mind for this is to give and give repeatedly.
I wonder how starved he is for love. Vash loves hard, after all. Once he loves (and I’m not talking about the broad, distant love/compassion he has in general), for better or worse, he carries them around with him forever, long after they've passed. Does he feel like it'd be selfish to admit this kind of want? His love isn't really a passive thing after all - it's the drive at his very core; a mournful inferno he is just barely suppressing. Does he remember how to love in a way that doesn't consume him entirely?
Is that part of the reason he checks out at signs of intimacy? Diverts gifts towards others? Tends to accept kind gestures only when under an assumed name? Intentionally starves himself in Tristamp? Runs and runs and runs? Is he afraid he won't be able to stop hungering? That allowing himself to want means his want will become insatiable?
I just have to wonder how much of his avoidance of connection is being scared that he will cause more destruction (to them? or to him?) by trying to take far too much into his hands than he ever caused by turning his back and running.
...of course I may just be entirely deranged here sorry.
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