#and now i will never be hungry

[capesandshapes]

I honestly wish I could be more helpful with writing things but my career is really really weird and I've kinda just fallen into it by dumb luck and an all consuming hatred for jk Rowling

[julfr]

Aberrant Sushi from Bancho Sushi

[tooteadoo]

tumblrrrrrr ugghhhh look at these photos of assad GOODDDDD i can't believe i'd never seen them before he looks so uguuguggahHAHHHHH

[hellogoodbyeitsme]

Damian + Jon: [playing Minecraft]

Dami: I've secured us some suitable living conditions. We will be safe from enemies now.

Jon: nice oneeeee now help me mine for iron plz you need armor so bad noob

Dami: don't call me that. I've killed people in real life.

Jon: ya ok noob

Dami: 😡😡

(some time later, when they return to the house) (to paint the scene: it is small, square in shape, and it's obvious Damian had no idea how to build a proper house, since a lot of it is made with dirt, which is a very convenient block but makes for an ugly.. ugly build)

Jon: aren't you like.. into art? Why did you build it with dirt??

Dami: it's about functionality right now, for safety. Tomorrow I will begin renovations. Obviously.

Jon: right..

[they enter the house. There is a chest, a crafting table, a furnace, and a double-bed at the side of the room]

Jon: omg... you put our beds together?? Omg I knew you loved me 😭😭😭😭 woooow 😭😭😭😭

Damian: [immediately breaks one of the beds to move it away to the other wall] now you've made it weird. It was for convenience.

[beastwhimsy]

I think if he's an immortal cosmic deity he should get cool as flarp powers. to be honest.

[lost-in-fandoms]

Thought i would be done but...yeah didn't happen. Part one here.

Living with Max is easy.

He doesn't whine when Daniel is taking care of his leg, he doesn't mind sleeping on some blankets on the floor, next to the fireplace, he offers to help around, and best of all he doesn't ask questions.

Well, not exactly. He asks so many questions. Once he gets over his initial bout of shyness and quiet, he asks questions about Daniel's vegetables, about his horse, about the woods, about the traps, about the animals. He offers his own opinions too, telling Daniel he's growing peas in too much shade and that he's cooking his meat for too long. And, much to Daniel's annoyance, he is often right too.

But he doesn't ask questions about Daniel. He doesn't know if it is because Max doesn't care or because he doesn't want to be asked questions back, but he appreciates being spared the trouble of telling him to mind his own business.

They also work surprisingly well together. Max is older than he initially seemed, dirt, hunger and exhaustion making him look younger, and he seems to know a little bit of everything. Even if he doesn't ask, Daniel is a little curious about what path in life brought him to have such a wide mix of knowledge. He seems to know how to move around the woods without scaring the prey, how to skin and cook animals, how to take care of the vegetables (better than Daniel), how to keep himself and the house clean.

It's nice to have a second pair of hands around, even if the pair of hands should sit down more often to let their leg heal. Not that Max ever listened to that.

And he's funny. Daniel hadn't realised how much he missed just sitting around the table after dinner, talking and laughing with someone else. How good it was to wake up and find the fire already stoked and the water pitch already filled. To have someone to say good morning to who would say it back.

Daniel hadn't been thinking of himself as lonely before, he was content with his choice of life, but he can admit that he likes this. He is glad Max decided to stay and he's glad Max seems to be having a good time too, at least from what Daniel could tell.

This is why, when about three weeks after Max's arrival he wakes up in the middle of the night to the sounds of him moving around the house, his first thought isn't Max is leaving, but something is wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asks, voice scratchy with sleep and way too loud in the quiet of the night.

He watches Max flinch, dropping something, before turning around to face Daniel.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers, too shaky to be a good order. There's something different in his voice, and it only takes Daniel's tired brain a few moments to realise that he had heard those notes before, in the woods about three weeks ago. Fear.

Daniel sits up, eyes finally adjusting to the silver darkness of the room, moonlight streaming through the open windows.

"What's wrong?" he asks again, voice lower, matching Max's whisper.

He listens to the sounds coming from outside, thinking that maybe the men Max was running from have come back, but he can't hear anything unusual in the late summer night.

Max is grabbing what he dropped on the floor, stuffing it into a bag that he must have taken from Daniel's things, but the moment, Daniel doesn't even care about the fact that he's very obviously stealing from him.

"Max, what is happening?" He's getting frustrated now, hates not knowing what is going on, worry and irritation growing together.

He stands up, taking a couple of steps towards Max, wanting to see him better, but he stops when Max flinches back.

"I need to leave," he finally says, voice raspy. It's not an explanation, and Daniel suddenly regrets never asking any questions.

"Why? Where?"

He doesn't want Max to leave. The knowledge of that settles like armor on his chest, safe but heavy. Living with Max isn't just easy, it's good. He doesn't want to go back to an empty house, not after the past weeks have been so nice.

"I...I need..." Max shudders, as if in pain, and Daniel's legs ache with the need of walking closer.

"Did something happen?" Did I do something wrong?

Max shakes his head, jerky and sharp. When he exhales, Daniel can hear him bite back a whine.

He doesn't want to scare Max, but he is confused, and he is worried, and he is not going to let him go without an explanation.

He steps between Max and the door.

"You owe me an explanation," he says, hating the way it makes Max stiffen, unwilling to take it back anyway.

"I don't owe you..." Max snaps, before interrupting himself with half a growl. "You haven't told me anything either!"

"That's different. I'm not running away in the middle of the night."

Max takes a step forward, back tense, and Daniel instinctively braces himself, eyes flying towards the table, where his knife always is, but Max doesn't attack him.

He shivers again, hands clenching around the bag and then letting it fall on the ground with a thump, shoulders slumping as all the fight seems to leave him.

"Please, Daniel, I need to leave. It's...it's not safe."

Max looks up, finally meeting Daniel's eyes, and he's suddenly reminded of what the man had said, so many days ago.

He's dangerous. Cursed.

Max's eyes look weird, blue brighter than ever, almost glowing in the moonlight. His face is twisted in pain and there's the glimmer of sweat gathering at his hairline. None of that would worry Daniel, but there's something...different in him. Something other.

Cursed.

The room seems too bright now. The moon is almost full tonight.

Cursed.

Max had said he hadn't killed anyone, but if this is what Daniel is thinking of...

Max closes his eyes, whole body shivering again, his edges almost blurring with it. Or maybe it's not just a trick of the light. Daniel doesn't know what to think anymore.

He doesn't want Max to go. He doesn't want this to happen.

He steps away from the door.

For a moment, they both stand still, looking at each other.

For a moment, Daniel hopes he'll wake up and it will be morning, and Max will be coming in with the last tomatoes from the garden.

Then Max whines, something low and pained, something animal, and bolts.

Daniel doesn't stop him.

He watches as his shadow changes even before he's fully reached the trees.

Then he sits on the doorstep and waits for the sunrise.

[chipped-chimera]

Little Hunter.

[sholmeser]

so like it’s 1999 and solid snake is in zanzibar land and gray fox tells you that all he can do is fight. it’s all he has and it’s probably all you’re ever going to have, too, because deep down you know your father is right, you know he is right as you click the lighter and burn the flesh off his skin, you know he is right when he tells you, this will never go away. i am always going to be a part of you. it’s 2005 and solid snake is in shadow moses island, alaska and gray fox tells you that’s good, snake. hit me harder. do it more. that’s good. when you meet meryl you kill the guards, and then snake thinks he loves her, so you kill psycho mantis for her, ocelot tortures you and you withstand it for her, you beat liquid to a pulp for her and while his blood is on your fists he smiles and tells you that you two, you’ll always be the same. gray fox means violence means meryl means violence, so what’s love if not that? what is it if not the feeling of broken bones under your knuckles, if not the smell of your father’s burnt flesh? but she's too young, she doesn’t understand you and she couldn’t if she tried, because she’s eighteen years old and doesn’t know any better and doesn’t understand that after you sleep with her you’re going to get up and let the pillow grow cold, she thinks you’ll tell her everything and when you don’t, because you can’t, she’ll leave you. you kill him with your fists and for her you destroy shadow moses and you hear him say to you again that’s good, snake, that feels good, do it harder. but it isn’t a coincidence that in mgs1 you meet otacon at the same time you meet gray fox. otacon who is so scared of battle he pisses his pants and otacon who cries over a woman who could never love him back and otacon who thinks good people like dogs, kind people like dogs, otacon who passed you a meal, ready-to-eat and a bottle of ketchup across the bars of your cell and when you ask him why the fuck are you here if you cant help me he says to you, i thought you might be hungry. otacon who gives you her handkerchief that was once her mother's and will be hers once again when she dies, when you rest it atop her glazed-over irises, a cycle of love. she was a good person, snake, and so are you. she liked the wolves and you do too. otacon who cries over his baby sister’s little body, who blames himself for being seventeen years old under the touch of the woman who should have been his mother. otacon who when it's 2014 will make you the solid eye and the octocamo suit and the mk. ii to keep you safe and say to you, don't hurt anyone, snake. will say to you: i'll follow you wherever you go, like this. otacon who blubbers like a baby and cries too much and who, when it's 2009 in new york city, you have to say to, go rescue the hostages, because if you don’t he’s going to crumple in on himself, a dying star. this is how you love, you don’t say to him, and how i love, because you showed me how. wrap your arms around his shoulders and hope it’s enough.

[residentrookie]

(8/31) prompt: takeout — 1,213 words (implied nsfw) (regulus conveniently forgets to tell james about his birthday) @jegulus-microfic

Regulus wouldn’t say he has a favorite time of day per say, but if he were held at gunpoint and forced to pick he supposes he’d choose somewhere in the range of 5:30 and 6:00 pm. If you asked him why, he’d tell you it’s because he likes watching the sun go down and not because that’s when James Potter stops by his apartment after his daily trip to the gym. 

And it’s definitely not because he always arrives dressed in his tight, slutty tank tops, skin still glistening with a light layer of sweat, salty and earthy and so distinctively James smelling. 

(In truth, it makes Regulus feel fucking insane, but he tries to hide that bit.) 

Today, when he rips open his door at 5:47 he’s met with that exact sight: James, smiling but slightly out of breath, a duffle bag slung over one toned shoulder that’s of course sinfully on display. Seriously, his fucking arms…

“Hi.” 

Regulus smiles back helplessly, the smallest uptick of one side of his mouth. He opens the door wider, tilting his head to invite James inside. They’ve been seeing each other for about a month now (and these evening visits have only been a thing for the past week), but James seems to have a routine already set in place. He toes his shoes off by the front door (Regulus never asked him to, but he must have noticed that Regulus always removes his own and followed suit). The duffle bag comes off his shoulder about five steps inside, set neatly against the wall and out of the way, before he turns to Regulus and gives him “the look.” It definitely belongs in the category of “begging” (Regulus is getting better at identifying that one) but as for what he’s begging for? 

Regulus rolls his eyes but huffs a laugh. “Seriously? Again?” 

If the sex wasn't so good, he'd be forced to believe that James' only reason for coming here was to raid his kitchen.

James’ face grows somehow more pitiful. “I forgot to pack a snack after the gym and I’m starving, Regulus, honestly, or I wouldn’t ask—” 

He would, he’s shameless. Regulus doesn’t mind. 

“Fine. But I’m not cooking you anything tonight. It’s Friday. I don’t cook on Fridays.” 

“Okay, fair.” 

Regulus waves a hand behind him as he saunters to the living room. “Anything in the fridge is up for grabs.” 

“Fuck yes,” James says with the enthusiasm of a growing teenage boy (he’s 25). “You know, I would take this opportunity to shower you with compliments but uh,” he pauses, knowing Regulus’ curiosity will force him to glance back over his shoulder, “I’ll save that for later, yeah?” 

James’ cheeky grin only grows as he watches Regulus’ face get hot. With that, he’s ducking his head down into the fridge and Regulus is left to wonder exactly how fast James clocked his praise kink. He supposes he’s not exactly subtle about it. 

“Hey what’s in this brown box, Reg?” James asks a few moments later, his voice muffled as he rumages through the fridge. “Leftovers? Or takeout?” 

Regulus blinks, remembering. “Oh, uh, neither— that one— actually, that’s—” 

James reappears, his face a mask of confusion as he stairs down into the open takeout box. “Cake?” 

Regulus’ face is burning again, but for a completely different reason. “Um. Yeah.” 

“You don’t eat cake.” 

It's true. Regulus told him that once on a date when James insisted on ordering dessert for them. He’d just forgotten to mention his only exception. 

“Well. I do when it’s my birthday.” 

The takeout container drops from James’ hands, forgotten. He stares at Regulus with utter horror, eyes wide and jaw hanging. 

“Y-your— birthday— When? When the fuck did you have a birthday and not tell me about it?” 

Regulus winces a bit at James’ tone, his brother’s earlier words coming back to him. 

James is a birthday guy, okay? Any chance he gets to celebrate the people he loves is like… like a fucking holiday for him. So just let him have it. 

Okay but I am not a “birthday guy," Sirius, Regulus had pointed out stubbornly. His brother of all people, the only other person with first person insight into their upbringing, should know this by now. Shouldn’t I have a say on who does and doesn’t know about my birthday? It’s not a big deal.  

Sirius had sighed, one of those really put upon exhales that made Regulus roll his eyes at the drama of it all. Whatever, Reg. Tell your boyfriend or don’t, I don’t give a fuck. Just know if you don’t, you’ll regret it. 

Not my boyfriend, Regulus had mumbled, resisting the temptation to add the word “yet.” 

“You were out of town,” Regulus points out to James weakly.

He bats the excuse away. “So this past weekend, then. I was with your fucking brother, he couldn’t have mentioned it?” 

“I asked him not to.” 

“Of course you did. Oh my god, I wouldn’t have gone out of town if I knew, I would have planned something— a nice dinner, like steak or something, or no, you like that Italian place in town— and then we could have had a picnic on the beach because it was a full moon and I could have made chocolate covered strawberries because I know you like those, or actually I could have made you a fucking cake since you seem to eat them exclusively on your birthday.” He pauses his rant, looking increasingly agitated and distressed before turning to Regulus, incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have— I would have—” 

“James,” Regulus says, stepping back into the kitchen, walking all the way up to him. “James. Hey.” It takes a second for the tension in James’ shoulder to drop completely, but when it does, Regulus continues. “My birthday isn’t— it’s not exactly my favorite day of the year. In fact, I try to treat it exactly like every other day, like there’s nothing special going on at all.” 

“But that’s so sad,” James whispers. 

Regulus shrugs. “Not to me. My parents made my birthdays hell. They were family events. It was about everyone in the world except for the person actually turning another year older and I had to wear fucking ties and I hated them and everyone there. And they never let me eat the cake. It was “for guests.” 

James sighs. “Everyday, I think I can’t hate them more…” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Regulus admits. “I should have. I know you enjoy… celebrating.” He bumps James’ shoulder lightly with his fist. When he goes to move his hand, James captures it, holding it to his chest. 

“I want to celebrate you however you want to be celebrated, baby.” James’ voice is soft and warm. Regulus closes his eyes and leans into it. 

“However I want, hm?” he murmurs, his forehead resting against James’ chin. “You mean that?” 

He feels James pull away before looking up, brown eyes engulfing him in a sea of sinful intentions. 

“You know I do.” 

“Thought you were hungry,” Regulus says breathlessly, already pulling them away, backing up in the direction of his room. 

“Believe me,” James tells him shamelessly, “I am.”

[stealingyourbones]

Spent so much time making sushi for dinner and was so excited to have a funky little sushi roll and eat it like a burrito but then my nori ripped apart mid roll and I had to eat it as a salad and apparently my brain doesn’t like the texture of imitation crab + seaweed and rice rn :(

[seeminglyseph]

It is funny in my head I am imagining Odysseus Ultimate Family Man as in some way protective of his sister with like. No information whatsoever to go off of. Mostly because the idea of like “hey love respect and take care of my sister because she deserves all the best in the world” is endearing. But also being stuck on a ship with a bunch of horny soldiers and being like “don’t you dare tell me a word about your theoretical or possible sex life with my sister but also you fucking be loyal and be honest and be good and I am your *Captain* and right here all the time every day.” Is like. The thing comedy dreams are made of. Eurylochus had the patience of a monk.

But also my sister is visiting and I already had an argument so like lmaoooo couldn’t be meeee

[iraprince]

i've been very behind on posting things so i feel like i might be missing some... if u've commissioned me in the past few months and i haven't posted ur piece but u would like me to pls feel free to give me a tap!!

[sadlynotthevoid]

Last night I was watching Kotaro Lives Alone clips before sleeping. So now today I opened Wind Breaker's manga, hoping to read some shounen touchy fights and fools fooling around—

Instead I got face slapped by Suzuri and Hajime's stories.

I'm not fine. I can't stop thinking about tissues and what Sakura's past must be like if the other stories in this manga are like this.

I mean, he seems to be someone who learns from what he observes and experiences, trying to get the best out of it. He's really pensative. When people at Makochi were slightly kind to him (like Kotoha saying thank you and giving him a meal— that's just— wtf, Sakura's unknown hometown?!) he pays it back with kindness (protecting her).

Even before that, he went and helped her expecting her to run away or something, not gratitude (which only talks about how good he is, besides making me sad, ofc). But he had not idea what being treated with kindness feels like. Little buddy was surprised when Togame, the guy he was going to fight to, called him without honorifics, saying it's the first time someone called his name like that.

Just— how many tissues I'm going to need if the author goes in detail about his backstory? And how many more am I going to need when I remember Kotaro and tv guy ate them?

[moggettt]

HERE IT IS!! after Many moons of chipping away at this OC song comic for my scifi-noir android character Whitney and his bodyguard Bast, it is finally as complete as it shall ever be;; I’m proud of the work I put into this one! Pretty niche, but maybe some folks out there will enjoy UuU

ps: there's also a video for easy viewing!

[strwbrryfire]

there is something so visceral about f1 to me like . its morphed into some poetically tragic epic about loss and empty promises and PUSHING YOU HAVE TO KEEP PUSHING!!! like. i have to drive this car before it kills me, i have to treat this metal coffin as a monster that i Must tame and conquer before i kill it myself . the car is my nightmare, my dream, my destiny and i apologize to it before it even has the chance to bite back . i say sorry to something that has no care for me!!! i conform myself to its wishes even though it does not care if those wishes are granted!! RAAHHH!!!!

[walmart-miku]

now that I've finished the Fontaine archon quest I need hydro fam shenanigans.

This is the vibe in the hydro fam. You got neuvillette babysitting a bunch of unhinged children.

And before you come for me about barbara, barb is one incident away from being completely unhinged. My girl is barely holding it together. And nilou is unhinged, shes just good at hiding it. Girl was ready to go to jail in the sumeru quest.

Headcannons under the cut

Furina, barb, and nilou do shows together I take no criticism about this. Xingqiu wrote the shows. Neuvillette and childe fund it.

Xingqiu needs to be put in Fontaine. My boy is literally FAMOUS over there. (On a side note, love how every hydro character is famous. Only exception here is yelan but that's cus she's an undercover agent.)

Furina, xingqiu, and barb would get along like a house on fire. You got 3 art kids together, 1 that can get away with stuff, 1 that's smart, and 1 that keeps the shenanigans from getting too big and getting them into trouble. It is a weekly occurrence that neuvillette gets a call telling him his kids went and did some shit again and he's gotta clean it up.

Also childe. He's like that cool cousin that shows up at your door randomly and is involved in a lot of shady shit, but they can't complain cus childe brings xingqiu all of these rare books and makes sure he comes to all of furina and barbs performances and reads monas astrology column in the steambird every morning.

Barb makes coffee every morning for mona and makes sure mona has a balanced diet.

They have weekly tea time. Everyone shows up. No one misses it. Sometimes wrio is invited.

kokomi and xingqiu can talk for hours about anything. Books, strategy, anything. No one understands what they're talking about. Except for ayato but that's only when it's about strategy

Barbara and sigwinne will also talk about medicine for hours and it's even more difficult to understand those conversations

ayato will spawn randomly, hand someone bubble tea and then disappear. It's his way of saying I love you.

He also jumps jumpscares everyone a lot. Not intentionally but just bc someone runs into him and they haven't seen ayato in a few days and he's got Gucci eyebags and looks ready to fight the Raiden shogun. Also because he's just really quiet when he moves. You don't notice his presence unless he wants you too.

All of the adults spoil furina, xingqiu, and barb rotten. Mona tries her best.

None if them like Jean. They think that Jean doesn't deserve Barb after everything but if barb wants to have a relationship with her then they won't do anything.

Candace has fought off a crowd of crazy fans before. She will do it again.

Candace and childe fight once a month. "To see who deserves a name that starts with C" childe says. The matches always end in a draw.

Neuvillette is a better dad then all of their canon fathers.

Barbara will start singing randomly and nilou will start dancing