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#no thoughts just corgis
wellesleybooks · 3 months
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Say yes to corgis! We love it when our books and gifts come together this magically.
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wxiao0 · 6 months
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Guys!! I just finished watching Captain Laserhawk and the plot never stops flowing into my head! Eeekk
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Summary: Desmond yeeted or yote? Whatever into the Captain Laserhawk universe after he died to save the world (thank Ubi). In the corgi hybrid from because why not? Even in the show they have assassin bullfrog (he is the precious thing don’t you dare) why can’t we? And yeah Desmond he can change back to human from because the Isu bullshit brought with him, But there is a limited time.
The first thing when he touch The Eyes it was pain It was like it was burning from both outside and inside.
And after that it was darkness, he didn’t know how much time had passed. He can thought but he can’t feel. It’s cold or hot, it’s hard or soft ,he in the narrow coffin or floating in endless space.
Ha can’t feel anything.
But recently he feel like he was pulled into the blackhole. It was extremely fucking painful, as if his body had turned into spaghetti.
And the loud ‘THUD’ makes his body remember the pain again. He jumped up, the back that hit the ground still felt a slight pain. He tried to reach out to scratch his back but failed.
What?
He try to reach out and failed.
AGAIN
What?!?!
When Desmond looking down at his own hands, he saw.
A paw!?, no not paw but paws!
What the shit!!!!
Desmond tried to collect himself. Ok, breathe in breath out, in and out, in and out. Alright, he look around him look like he’s in an alley somewhere, It's all wet. And there was a smell of garbage everywhere. Well, he's sitting on a garbage bag that’s why.
He climbed out, nearly slipping because of a nearby puddle of sewage. He looked down examining his shirt, It was the same as the shirt he wore that day. His right arm, uh, or front leg? Covered with completely black fur. Meanwhile, his entire body was covered in orange and white fur.
Desmond felt his left ear twitch as he heard a man yelling from outside the alley he was in. He peeked out from the corner and saw two men, one with white hair, leaning against the wall before rushing to pick up the other man who didn't look too good. His right eye was replaced by a machine. The left arm was replaced with a mechanical arm.
That guy looked like something out of a sci-fi movie where the main character was a cyborg. Yeah…definitely. His ears perked up when white hair guy carry cyborg man is going to pass him by. He hurriedly hid himself with his instinct behind a large garbage bag.
He activated his eagle vision and saw the two people passing by. Surprisingly, he saw that the two men were faintly golden, almost invisible. It was as if they were important to Desmond in some way.
He blinked, his eyes turning brown again. Desmond rubbed a paw over his face before groaning lowly.
Ugh
Welp, life never gonna be easy to Desmond Miles.
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luvshuas · 10 months
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since i am here rn…hello 😼😼😼
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averyspoopedcorgi · 1 year
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suika on my instagram story
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suika on my instagram story
I JUST SAW IT THE SON BOY
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mar-the-magician · 2 years
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IMPORTANT WUESTION MAR
if sam had a dog, what breed would he be and what would he name it? -🔆
Ah, um, er, FUCK, I know nothing about dogs—
Maybe a German Shepherd? Or a Husky? Or a Border Collie? I think any kind of dog he had he’d name Timber, Smoky, or Honeybunch. Idk why 🤷🏻‍♀️
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teacorgi · 1 year
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current ychs for vawentines day :3 you can hmu if ur interested ^^
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persephoneggsy · 1 year
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What kind of dog do you guys think Sebastian is
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woody-harrelson · 1 year
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With my bf we decided we want a corgi. Corgies basically have a mixture of our traits. Plump like me, with short legs like me, they have big ears and long body like my bf. Their behavious also match ours.
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homingpigecns · 2 years
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TO BE HONEST (just being a hater) i dont like the designs of Any of the new mons even the cute ones are like. they don't look like poke mon. i will not defend or explain this position
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queenerdloser · 1 year
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i want to buy a house not just to own a house but because i desperately want to get more cats and potentially a small, chill dog. and have a whole room for my books. that’s it!! those are my only criteria for houses: has enough room to host the menagerie of animals i’m going to end up getting and a library room. 
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falseficus · 8 months
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I read a physical copy of monstrous regiment soon after listening to the audiobook, and I noticed two tiny discrepancies between the two editions that make an absolute world of difference. when I found out that these discrepancies existed (you’ll find reddit posts backing me up about them), I felt cheated that my first experience of the book had portrayed a less cohesive arc than pratchett intended
if you’re looking to buy or read monstrous regiment, I strongly recommend the doubleday 2003 version or the corgi 2004 version, which iirc contain the original text. The harper collins publications and audiobook both contain these changes, which imo are confusing and severely undercut the themes the book is trying to get across. if anyone knows the status of other editions of the book pls feel free to add on
obviously the audiobooks and ebooks are more accessible than physical books to some people, so if you read one of those just know that the original text is different in some key ways. I still recommend you read the book because it’s crazy good :)
the changes I noticed, beneath the cut to avoid some serious spoilers:
firstly, the last line of Jackrum’s last scene. in the Doubleday version, this line reads:
“Jackrum had turned her chair to the fire, and had settled back. Around him, the kitchen worked.”
in the harpercollins version, the line reads:
“Jackrum had turned her chair the the fire, and had settled back. Around her, the kitchen worked.”
this pronoun change is actually has huge implications. in the scene in question, jackrum, a transgender man, reveals that he joined the army in disguise. he is referred to as “she” throughout his background reveal. however, he then considers where his future will take him, and in the final line of the scene his pronoun reverts back to “he.” jackrum’s pronoun goes from he->she->he, encapsulating the gendery arc of the scene. however, in the altered he->she->she version of the scene, half of that circle is erased. the neat tie-up of jackrum’s journey is left confusingly unresolved, and the importance of his gender to the book’s overarching themes goes underemphasized
the second change I noticed is how maladict appears in the book’s ending:
in the Doubleday version, maladict appears “in full uniform.”
in the harpercollins version, maladict appears “in full female uniform.”
maladict is the last soldier to reveal [their] true gender, keeping up a masc/ambiguous presentation far after all the rest of the squad has come forward as women. “in full uniform” maintains this ambiguity, allowing the reader to decide for themself whether maladict comes forward and presents as fully female or continues to dress masculinely despite the fact that circumstances no longer require it (in fact I believe that the latter is more likely, as maladict says “thought I’d try again,” which could mean dressing in male uniform again). “in full female uniform” removes that ambiguity, and brings maladict’s arc to a somewhat unsatisfying conclusion. it eliminates the possibility of maladict as transgender or gender-non-conforming, and I’m left wondering, “if maladict presents as female so readily, why make such a fuss of it before now?”
both changes undermine the book’s message by eliminating its space for non-cisnormative identity… which is kinda crucial to the whole idea. im honestly really disappointed that these changes were made in any version of the book, because whoever made them clearly didn’t get the point
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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Hello, Neil Gaiman. I am writing this letter of gratitude because I am in despair, but I am obliged to you. I am Russian, I live in a small town in the south of Russia, in the Caucasus. a month ago I turned 16, so now I am fully responsible for all my actions. I'm bisexual, which is now illegal. you understand what I mean, but I’m simply scared to write about such things. absolutely no one knows about this, and I have to hide every day. this is an unbearable burden, but I must say thank you. because your projects are what gives me life. you have no idea how much pleasure it was for me, at eight years old, to fearfully admire Mr. Bobinsky. when, at 14, I finally saved up money for the Russian edition of Good Omens, which I had to order via the Internet not directly, but through my friends, I was quietly delighted. it is worth paying tribute to: this edition is really good and very warms the soul, its design may not be filled with elegance with a golden border, but it is very homely, cozy and imbued with love for the work, this can be felt, even if the translation is not the best. and on the very first pages I felt something that I had never experienced, having problems with the nervous system and anxiety: I felt protected and happy. I felt complete. each line was a sip of life-giving water for me. let me be so bold but this book is perfect for me and it's hard to believe it wasn't written for me personally haha. like two pieces of a puzzle. I hold the book of Good Omens, and I cry almost every time because it feels good just to hold it in my hands. you shouldn’t put this next to fanaticism, it’s just personal happiness. sometimes I felt so safe with this book that I hugged it as I fell asleep. then I saved up to the translation of script book for the first season, and I must say that I am confused, because there are no deleted scenes in it with Crowley shopping or the opening of Aziraphale's bookstore and others, and this was not clear to me. and a month ago, on October 30, my cousin, who is like my own sister, gave me the original Good Omens for my birthday. can you imagine? in all of Russia she was able to find only one person who carried out such foreign orders (please forgive me, I have little understanding of this). so, in some ineffable way, a copy was delivered to me via America from Corgi Books, I think, 2014. soft cover and thin pages, of course, but I'm so happy. and I’m also grateful to myself, because I’ve been learning English since I was seven, and therefore I’m glad that I can read the original. oh, you should have seen with what rapture I waited for the release of the second season at three in the morning! and with what delight I watched it in English without subtitles, understanding what was happening. this is happiness. what I want to say is that you bring…indescribable happiness to my life. you give me strength, and I don’t give up. I cry every time I allow myself to dream that I am escaping from here. that I can meet you and say thank you in person with my stupid accent, not so much because of my native language, but because of the braces, hahaha. but I never stop dreaming about it, although even this is hard. thank you for everything. I wish only peace and love. with devotion, love and gratitude, A.
I'm sending thoughts of love and concern. Stay safe.
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bettyfrommars · 9 months
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I need to know what you think about finding a dark siren Eddie Munson. Maybe he got hurt and washed up on the shore? You’re immediately his mate and he loves you very much even though he’s never been near a human. Very much I hate everyone but you vibes for our bloodthirsty friend.
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Boyfriend From the Deep
darkSiren!Eddie x Reader
dark siren Eddie art
18+ONLY, smut, some monsterfuqqing, mention of gore, mention of throwing up, visit from Murray & Hopper, mention of reader's life not going well, AFAB Reader, love at first sight, soulmates, merman!Eddie. wc: 3k
A/N: Another request I was really excited to sink my teeth into. My hope is to continue this eventually, taking inspiration from the 1984 film Splash. Looking forward to what y'all think of darkSiren!Eddie, thank you for indulging me.
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Eddie choked and coughed as the wave crashed over him, forcing his eyes open with a gargled gasp.  He was pinned up against a rocky ledge, half of his body on the sand and the other half in the frigid water.  All of a sudden, he felt sick, and began retching clear bile into the sea.  He didn’t like breathing the air, he wasn’t used to it, and it caught in his throat like a feather–tickling—until he coughed and retched again.  The gills on the sides of his neck sputtered, flapping open like vents, drying out, trying to conform to the new way of breathing.
It was then that he became aware of the dull ache at the back of his head, and with trembling fingers, he reached back to test the spot with a cringe and a hiss.  He checked to find that his fingertips were bloody; he must’ve knocked his head on one of the sharp rocks during the transformation.  How badly was he wounded? Would be a shame to survive the journey to human form only to die on the beach and rot like a bloated fish.  
He braced his hand, fingers digging into the sand, and flicked his hips to swish his tail to get him unstuck, but then two legs kicked out from his hips, stuck in a fisherman’s net, and it startled him, making him slam his head into the rock again.  He winced, eyes squeezing shut, whimpering a bit at the sting of the impact as the saltwater splashed up to his knees and misted his face.  
This was Eddie’s first time back to land in over a decade.  Mostly because he loathed humans.  He loved to lure them to their deaths, he loved to watch from under the water as their ships sank so that he could feed on their fear, curling the sound waves of their screams into his belly like sweet nectar. 
He twisted, trying to be free of the rough ropes that cut into his skin, but he was weak, and he wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost.  He was stuck there now, for 7 days and 7 nights, and he thought maybe he’d just find a way to stay hidden…
….until he saw you.
It was rare for you to be up at the crack of dawn, unless it was due to the fact that you hadn’t slept at all, which was a regular occurrence.  Long, restful sleeps that lasted hours were just a myth to you, ever since you’d watched your life go down the toilet.  A breakup, a death in the family, getting fired from your job; all of it happened all at once, and you were still reeling, teetering at the edge of the abyss.
You were all alone in the world, but for your dog, Louie, and the modest cottage you were renting for a week off the Oregon coast.  The beach house was tucked back in the woods, and it didn’t even have a TV, so flipping it on to watch the early morning broadcast or some cartoons to relax your brain was not an option. The radio would have to do, and the first song that came on when you flipped the dial was Brandy by Looking Glass.  You hummed along to it as you plucked Louie’s leash off the sofa and attached it to his collar.  He was a medium, handsome, mixed-breed boy that you’d rescued from the side of the road as a puppy.  Part corgi, part border collie, part…dalmatian? You weren’t entirely sure.  
“He came on a summer's day
Bringin' gifts from far away
But he made it clear he couldn't stay
No harbor was his home
The sailor said, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl 
What a good wife you would be 
But my life, my love, and my lady is the sea”
It was exceptionally chilly for an August morning, making you bundle in a hoodie and boots for the trek out to the beach.  Louie was practically foaming at the mouth to get out there for his run, and since your area of the beach was fairly secluded at that time of morning, you unhooked his leash where the dirt path met with the sand, and he bolted into the fog toward the ocean like a shot.  There was a wet mist lingering in the air, like salty, seaweed-scented kisses that made you squint against the bright gray hues turning blue with the rise of the sun.  A few seagulls squawked and swooshed overhead, diving down to perch on a large piece of driftwood, and you waved to them, as if they’d showed up just to say hello to you.
You faced the vast expanse of ocean and crashing waves with a mix of awe and defiance, challenging it silently with a lift of your chin.  Your reverie was rudely interrupted by Louie’s alarm bark, somewhere deep in the mist. 
You followed the sound, walking blind until you caught sight of the jutting rocks at the base of a cliff, and the shrill of Louie’s distress signal was getting further away.  Your feet picked up speed, stumbling for purchase in the soft, wet ground as you called for him, a bit of panic stroking your heart.  Why did it feel like you were about to start crying? An avalanche of unfelt emotions gathered in your throat as you called for your loyal companion.  
But there he was, finally, sitting facing the rocks, tail wagging side to side, making a fan-shape in the sand, basically ignoring you as you collapsed to one knee, cursing, clutching your chest.  
You mumbled a whole conversation to him as you snapped the leash back in place and got to your feet.  You tried to guide him in the other direction, but Louie was transfixed on something a few yards ahead, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust—but then you saw it.  A hand, slightly webbed between the fingers, appeared from around the black rock, digging into the sand, and then another hand gripped the tan earth further along, as if someone were trying to pull themself along by their arm strength alone.  The wrists were covered in jewelry that looked like they were made of shell and bone; the forearms tattooed in dotted, swirling black ink patterns.  
You were too stunned to scream, mouth hanging agape.  You urged Louie back to shield him with your legs.  You saw the long, dark hair next, pooling over bare, tattooed shoulders; it was messy and unkempt, littered in bits of fauna and a few empty clam shells, one side matted with blood.  
Before your brain could throw the alarm that this might be dangerous, you were already speaking.  “A-are you alright? Do you need me to get help?”
That was when his head snapped up, and wide, all-white eyes regarded you with malice, lips curling back to expose a mouth full of pointed teeth.  He growled at you, and Louie growled back, but then, after a second, the monster's face softened.  The milk white eyes behind tendrils of hair shifted to brown, human irises, and he cocked his head a few times at you, as if trying to understand what you had just said.
You should have fainted.
You should have turned and run screaming in the other direction.
But, for some reason, neither one of those even occurred to you.  
You came around to get a better look at him, down along where the water lapped at your boots, and took in the rest of his body; he was tangled up in a crude net from the waist down.  He wore a necklace that appeared to be made of intricate fish bones and coral, and shark tooth earring dangled from his ear.  The tattoo patterns ran all along his chest, stomach, and legs.  You released Louie’s leash, and he sat right where he was told, while you crouched down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze that never strayed from you.
“Will you let me help you?” You asked.
Eddie was in love.
He never believed the stories he’d been told about the imprinting and immediate bonding that happened when you met your mate.  He wasn’t just any Merman, he was a Siren, and as a soldier of the dark forces of the sea, he figured he didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance.
But this took no time at all.
You were meant to be his, and he didn’t care who he had to kill to keep you.  
He studied your face as you worked to free the wet knot of seaweed tangles on the net, freeing his thighs from the heavyweight, gasping and averting your eyes at the way your touch made his cock twitch and swell.  You helped him to sit up, noticing what appeared to be gills on his throat and sides along his ribs.  His flesh was similar to that of a human, but also not.  It had a thick, rippled texture, like the belly of a snake, and it seemed to glow with a soft blue fluorescence.  His muscles were tight and lean, and he didn’t even bother to shiver as a cold wind made your teeth chatter. 
You told him your name as another seagull cawed overhead, and asked what you should call him.  
His eyebrows clenched together, tilting his head a few times, watching your mouth as you spoke.
“Do you speak English?”  You asked it in a cringe way, with a loud voice, as if a higher volume could break any language barrier.  
He brought his webbed hand up to touch your face, and you jerked away at first, but then you let his scaled knuckles graze your cheek, the legs of your jeans soaking wet now as you knelt there with what could only be described as a figment of your imagination. 
He spoke a word in foreign language, his voice a deep whisper.  You remembered how solid white his eyes had been before when he thought you were a threat, but now they were honey brown, almost cat-like in nature as they softly adored you. 
“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the time it took for his mouth to find yours, to plant wholesome kisses, to taste you.
You might’ve been in love with him at that moment too, but your jaded heart refused to let yourself believe it.  
You did, however, feel the arousal blossom at your core as his tongue fluttered against yours, whimpering with a little click in his throat like a sea lion at the way you returned his kiss.
The urge to mate you, to officially make you his, was too strong for Eddie to take into regard any of the formalities of courtship.  Once your hand found his generous girth and began to stroke, encouragingly, that was all it took.
You skittered backwards up onto the semi-dry sand, unzipping your jeans and pushing them down to your ankles as you went, and Eddie followed, bracing himself on top so he wouldn’t crush you, desperate to find your mouth again. His powerful hips bucked against you, and you held him by the neck, begging for more while he spoke to you in that foreign tongue, staring into your eyes, willing you to understand him.  
Wanting you to know that no one would ever love you as much as he did; that he would be your one and only mate until the darkness took you both.  
The position felt awkward, but there was no time to take your boots off as your hole clenched the air, desperate to be filled.  You spun around to get on your hands and knees, and Eddie buried his cock balls deep in your wet heat with one swish of his muscular thighs, throwing his head back in a bark of triumph.  
You pushed back against him, needing him to move, to stretch you and own you with each push, your fingers clawing into the sand as you whined.  
Nearby, Louie cocked his head and tried to lift one floppy ear, but then he turned his face to the sea, trying to give you some privacy.
You’d never been fucked by someone as strong as this sea monster, and your whole body jerked and vibrated under the impact of his deep thrusts.  “Yesyesyes…oh fuck!”
It wasn’t long before Eddie clapped his pelvis flush to your ass and spilled inside of you, chanting foreign words, tilting his head to the sky, worshiping you with his offering.  He stayed locked there for a while, working his seed deeper with every stroke.  When he was done, he flipped you over with a feral urgency that sent sand into your eyes and nose, but you didn’t care, because now his mouth was on you.  
Your fingers sank into his matted hair, and that was when you felt the viscous patch and remembered he was bleeding.  His big, strong legs were a bit wobbly, and the thought occurred to you, for whatever reason, that he wasn’t accustomed to using them.  
But then Louie was barking in the other direction, and you both turned your attention to see a figure appearing from out of the mist.   A middle-aged man in a pageboy cap and a trench coat; he was already too close before you knew he was there, and he dropped the walking stick in his hand, his face frozen in shock and terror.  
Eddie smelled the foul human approaching and the familiar bloodlust roared in his veins. The fin on Eddie’s back bristled as he rose to a crouch with a ferocious growl.  You shuffled as far as you could against the rock, trying to pull your jeans up and cover yourself, not sure what to think of Eddie’s reaction.
Eddie bared his mouth full of sharp teeth in a sneer at the man, his eyes going completely white again.  A storm seemed to hit the beach all of a sudden at Eddie’s command, dropping down a gust of wind that rocked the waves and sent the man stumbling off his feet as if the world tilted on its axis, trying to hold his hat on against the force of it.  A low, rumbling wail came from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest as you tried to shield your face from the whips of sand stabbing like tiny daggers in your flesh.  Eddie appeared to be sucking the life out of the man from his distance; the human’s body lifted up in the air and bent back.  You thought you heard something crack.  
It was only a matter of seconds before the man crumpled to the ground, unresponsive, and then Eddie settled, and so did the air around him.  After a few heartbeats, there were only the crashing waves and the birds once again, and Eddie’s head snapped to you, searching, making sure you were okay.
He held his arms out and you scrambled over, burying your head in the crook of his neck, letting him cage you, letting him have you.
Louie went over to sniff around at the man on the ground, wondering if he had any treats, and then he lifted his leg and let go of a stream of urine onto his shoe.
—-----
Murray Bauman slammed the paper onto Hopper’s desk, forcing a gust of wind into his face and a couple of yellow sticky notes to go flying.
Murray waited, hands on his hips, the door to the office wide open behind him.  Hopper took a deep inhale and flicked a few bored glances from the cover of the Seaside Review back up to Murray’s severe expression.
“Is this your way of telling me you're taking a vacation?” He guessed, shifting back in his squeaky chair.
“This,” Murray jabbed his finger in the direction of the paper.  “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you about.”
In the mood to humor his old friend, Hopper bent forward, furrowing his brow, taking a closer look at the headlines.  
Murray continued, pacing in front of the desk as he did so.  “Merpeople don’t exist? Well then, explain that to me.”
To the right, at the top of a long column and a sketch, was the headline: Reclusive artist survives a Siren attack on the beach and lives to tell: Merfolk exist.
Hopper cleared his throat.  “This is a drawing, Murray.”
Murray stopped his pacing, inclining his head, adopting a sarcastic tone.  “Notice anything familiar about that likeness, Jim? Does any part of it ring a bell? The white eyes, maybe? The teeth?”
“Sure,” Hopper picked the paper up and plopped it down, further away from him.  “It looks like Elvis.  Call The Inquirer.” 
Murray flopped in a chair facing the Chief’s desk with a huff.  He’d keep talking about it even if it fell on deaf ears because he knew he was right.  “The migration of the Sirens.  Enki, Poseidon, Amphitrite, the legend of the skin-shedding Merfolk who can walk on land for 7 days during a blood moon.  Humanoids.  Cannibals of the sea—-”
“Stop,” Hopper put his hand up palm out. “Just, stop. Is any of this supposed to make any sense to me? Why are you here? What have I done to deserve this?”
Murray rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, intertwining his fingers.  “The drawing should look familiar to you, Jim, because it’s just like the one I saw when I was a teenager, and three summers ago when I was on that death-trap Alaskan cruise.  I told you all about it.  I told you that I was—-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper interrupted.  “But again, I’ll ask—why are you coming to me with this? You think I’m going to arrest a fish?”
Murray rounded his shoulders.  "I know that Sirens exist, Jim.  There’s more than enough evidence out there, and I’m going to prove it to you, if not the world.” 
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Yoko: I don’t believe that Enid is a werewolf. Not until I see her as a wolf myself.
Wednesday: She is a werewolf, you know that.
Yoko: I could believe her to be a were-bunny or maybe even a were-corgi. But a werewolf? No.
Wednesday: You want her to transform in front of you? You’ll end up dead.
Yoko: You think, she’d kill me? Enid? *laughs for 5 minutes straight*
Wednesday: That’s not what I’m saying.
Yoko: What were you saying, then?
Wednesday: That I’m going to kill you, if you watch my girlfriend get naked, as she transforms.
Yoko: Oh..Now, that is something I can believe.
Wednesday: You still want to see it?
Yoko: No, no. Actually, I think I just now wrapped my head around it. No need.
Wednesday: That’s what I thought.
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averyspoopedcorgi · 1 year
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shooby for the 🧵
awa ty for the ask!! im gonna assume shooby is nobu :33
i have a history with shinobu cards (i love them all) so theres gonna be alot
faves: nipponjou, asobi club and berry monster
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just look at him. its fun!! its spunky!! i love it a well deserved card for his center
1. im a furry 2. its such a cute outfit the shoes, the tail the ears its just awawaw
i wanna squeeze berry monster nobu like a stress ball its one of my fave ! era cards i mean just *starts wailing*
least fave: phantom thief (is that what the scout is called)
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i just dont like scouts outfits in general honestly, im sorry nobu you still look very cute
honorable mention:
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again, im a furry and i love shinobu squirrel coding hes just so cute.....
the :3, the proud face he has im just capitaved yknow
category 5 yuushino moment
why is he there why are you just on my window son
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
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Buggy's Secrets Headcanon
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Feed me Seymore, Feed Me!
Random thoughts
• Buggy has always wanted daughters
• He knows boys are destructive
• AKA HIS TWINS links here
• But would be a good girl Dad, teach them how to do their hair, makeup, find them pretty clothes.
• Would adore having daughters. His biggest fear however is when they get older he would probably either bomb men who hit on them or cry at seeing them grown up.
• He likes to paint his nails, even though he wears gloves he does enjoy a nice coat of polish. Will do his partners nails as well when he has the free time or to unwind.
• HE. WANTS. A. CORGI
• He thinks they are so damn silly looking and cute, That and now they move is just so interesting to him.
• Will put the damn dog in a costume if he had his choice!
• He is Bisexual and has Bisexual experiences in his life. Mostly while drunk but he never Dislikes adventures on that side.
• Kissed Shanks one by accident- it was his first kiss and he ran around the corner of Gol D Roger's ship and both of them slammed into each other face first. Mouth on Mouth + Teeth on Teeth. Was not a pleasant first lips and still shivers in horror since he remembers the taste of apples on Shanks Mouth
• He is a ass guy- likes a nice ass anyday of the week!
• Buggys standards of beauty are unique- He's attracted to originality so unique features or personalities is what gets his gears going. Likes it weird!
• He plays stupid but he's smart. Doesn't work hard cause in truth he doesn't feel the need to-
• It's like walking behind someone shoveling snow- You're going to reach the goal right as they do bit they are doing all the work.
• Also has detached parts of his body to clean for convenience. Aka after a tussle in the sand has taken off his own lower half to clean and make sure no sand was left.
• Can play the ukulele and is a fairly good singer
• Has tried to grow a beard yet its patchy and he gets blonde patches that look terrible- so stubble is the max for him.
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