#just know I'll cry

[crimsonrain-spirits]

xianle trio,,,,,,i love them dearly,,,,

[kamitsure-cykes]

low effort post because I WANT to post art but the carpal tunnel demons ate my hand bones

this is poorly edited together but have this thing i spammed into the other mod's dms at like 3 am one night a few days ago because I couldn't sleep hsjsushdbsnsj

ignore my shit handwriting please yeaaa (sorry Sunflower)

-🌦️

[wahgifs]

[2 KIDS SHOW] EP8: LEE KNOW X HAN | WANT SO BAD | WITH MC CHANGBIN ☆

[tishawish]

selfie with the bro(romantic)

[ruporas]

studies from the finale

[fancygremlin]

Who’s the fire lit for?

In Part 45 we are introduced to Malam, a mysterious character who seems to enact justice for children who die unjustly.

He approaches Arthur, and seems surprised when he discovers that he is the one who lit the fire, as he expected a child to have done so.

I don’t think Malam’s expectations are completely unfounded, as it is not really present Arthur who lit the fire... but the child that went to the Boys' Brigade who did:

I think that Arthur unknowingly lit the fire both for Faroe and himself (or more correctly, his past child self). Malam was not called in by the fire to bring justice to just Faroe, but also to Arthur.

Arthur had been forced to metaphorically kill his child-self and his innocence and forced to grow up too quickly for his own good. His childhood had been cut short so suddenly and brutally by his parent’s death, a grief too big and complicated for a young child to understand and work through.

Even now, on the inside, Arthur is still that wounded and timid child. He is still carrying that pain with him. However, the hostility he had to live throughout his life only granted him more wounds and bruises. The soft, childlike and gentle parts of himself were hardened under layers and layers of scar tissue. Arthur had to learn pretty quickly that it was never safe enough for him to be kind and patient with himself. He was never given the time to process his traumas. No one taught him or showed him the love and care he so desperately needed and cried for so long for.

The hurt was drowned by more hurt and it was never tended to, never really cared for. But it never really disappeared or healed. It always stayed deep within him.

But now (finally), for the first time, Arthur’s most devastating traumas (the loss of his daughter, and the loss of his own innocence) have been recognised.

His childhood cry has been finally answered.

The kid Arthur was can finally rest now that Malam stopped by his fire.

[rillils]

🌸 post-catws stucky + hug

The first tendril of want shocks him like a splash of ice-cold water poured down his spine.

Bucky doesn’t know at first – doesn’t know what, doesn’t know how. But the want is there, curled up in his chest: small, and starving, like some trembling newborn thing whose first taste of life is hunger, crying to be fed and soothed.

There’s a half-remembered feeling in the back of his mind, something he reaches for when the want aches sharp and spark-bright inside him. The word for it is short and sweet in Bucky’s mouth, so gentle it barely touches his tongue at all, all throat and soft palate: ‘hug’.

It’s a simple concept. Two arms go around one body – that’s all it takes. One step, and there it is: a hug. And Bucky imagines it vividly: his own mismatched arms around Steve, and Steve’s arms folding around him, like a circle – the shape of the infinite, of timeless things like the two of them. A line that should end, but constantly finds one more beginning instead.

He tries to see it, Steve’s broad chest brushing against his as their bodies meet, the swell of Steve’s arms enveloping him, Steve’s big palms splayed wide against his back, touching him. Gentle. Like Steve’s eyes on him are gentle; like the clasp of his hand on Bucky’s shoulder is gentle, always. So gentle, perhaps, that Bucky would hardly even feel the hug around him.

But he would take it, gentle or no. Because the truth, where it lies in the empty pit of his stomach, is that he starves for it, day after day, the want pulsing inside him with every beat of his heart. He just doesn’t know how to ask for it.

So Steve does the asking for him.

His hair is ruffled, limned with copper and wisps of gold in the late afternoon light, and his hands are unsure, nervous. But his eyes. His eyes take Bucky in, searching, urgent – and for a moment, Bucky is sure that Steve, too, must have been starving for this.

“Can I hug you?” he says, and the word sounds especially sweet when it’s Steve pronouncing it. When there’s a ‘you’ attached to it, and that one syllable becomes two, joined seamlessly together, and the new word rolls smooth and honeyed down the curl of Steve’s tongue, hug you, hug you, hug you. “Would that be okay?”

Bucky wets his lips. ‘Yes,’ he means to say, but the word that slips out of his mouth in a rasp instead says, “Please.”

So Steve gathers him close, two arms and one body and his nose buried in Bucky’s dark mop of hair, and he carves a snug space out of himself to make room for Bucky right there, his hands fisted in the back of Bucky’s shirt, their chests pressed so tight together that his heartbeat pounds behind Bucky’s ribs.

It’s not a passing touch, the fluttering echo of a hug Bucky feared he might barely feel. It’s persistent. It’s desperate. It’s a hungry little thing, a creature to be fed tenderly, steadily, so it’ll grow and live, and live.

He wraps his own arms around Steve, and grasps at him just as fiercely as his want commands, a wet exhale shuddering out of his lips to land in the crook of Steve’s neck.

He was wrong, he realizes now, framed in Steve’s embrace like a timeless work of art. He was missing a step.

A hug is a simple concept: two arms go around one body, and they hold on.

[cry-ptidd]

Alucard is a boydad but vladcard is a total girldad. I can't explain it but that's the vibes they're giving off,,,,,

Peak characterization my dear anon

Alucard is a boydad stuck with a daughter

(it doesn't change at how he'd treat her if she was a son she still suffers either way)

"LOCK THE FUCK IN"

"Shut up"

Fatherly disappointment followed by resignation (also him calling her an idiot for a minute straight)

And ofc. These gems

Peak boydad. He calls her 'sport'

Vs

Peak girldad Vlad

THAT'S A PROUD DAD RIGHT THERE!!!

He brags about her all the time. You never hear the end of it.

"Yeah, your kid went to Harvard? Cute. My daughter tho--"

He brings her everywhere, and is always there when she's struggling (somehow predicts it). A guy comes within a 20 mile radius of her and he whips out the shotgun. He cuts up apples and places it on her desk without a word and he compliments her hair and outfits and he let her paint his nails when she was little. The first person who made fun of him for having poorly painted sparkly nails got stabbed in the kidney.

Also, he already has a dad laugh.

Overall, maybe Hellsing is actually about Boydad Alucard's journey to becoming a girldad

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[microtyalm13]

everything about Gavriil feels suffocating.

how his presence alone can be almost overwhelming, how his massive body cages you everytime without a chance to escape. you wouldn't dare to try anyway, knowing that you don't even have a say against a creature of his caliber. he will find you. in your dreams, in your nightmares. in your room.

how he will be intense and vague about everything just for the sake of it; to confuse you further, to see the conflict of emotions in your eyes merge with arousal. eventually your hesitance turns into acceptance, a desperate need to feel his hands all over you. and he will be oh so grateful to fulfill that desire.

how his thick tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth, reaching almost the back of your throat, relishing in the muffled little sounds you make. your drool mixed with his saliva drips down your chin, and your hazy eyes look up at him when he finally pulls away, giving you a second to breathe.

how his hips are slamming into you relentlessly, your wetness and lack of resistance allowing him to move almost effortlessly. forced to hold onto him for dear life instead of pushing away. all of your morals and principles are being tossed out of the window every single time he comes to you. he has you where he wants you, and will not stop until he feels like you can't take it anymore.

and how in the morning he vanishes away, leaving you guessing: was it just another wet dream? but the cold stickiness between your legs tells you more than you need to know.

[chaosandwolves]

But what if

Eddie tells Buck not to pull back from him, that he's not angry with him for the basketball court and how could he ever think anyone could ever replace him

And then Buck tells him that he's bi and that he's dating Tommy

and Eddie, of course, is the best and so heartfelt and accepts him without hesitating for even a millisecond and pulls him into a hug

But what if

What if we then get a shot of Eddie closing the door and his smile falls

WHAT THEN!???

[depravedangelbaby]

thinkin' about crushing u with my thighs

[shima-draws]

Worst feeling ever is when you go to reread a fic you really like and find out it's been deleted. Even WORSE worst feeling ever is checking the author's profile and finding out they've deleted all of their fics entirely

[soup-soup-soup-soup-soup]

to everyone doing their finals right now, remember: GRADES ARE TEMPORARY, SOUP IS ETERNAL

do whatever you can and treat yourself to some soup after :)

[triglycercule]

horror being very specific with table manners and he berates people (dust and killer) for eating like fucking pigs

i think it'd be morbidly funny that because there was no food in horrortale but the cutlery and stuff was all there that maybe he would pretend to eat with no food on the plate. it was in a satirical way that he would joke maybe around horror paps or alone where he would pretend to eat and have really good table manners but then the satire joke became REAL and now horror is incredibly specific about how to eat food

you MUST hold the fork in the left and knife in right says horror. no killer you can't duel wield the fucking knives this is a table not a slaughterhouse. dust pick up your elbows off the table. actually how about you get your entire upper body off the table tf why are you SLEEPING ON THE FOOD??? killer's sitting fetal position in the chair because of course he wouldn't sit normally like the idiot he is. dust is forced to put his hood down and reveal his face no more mysterious shadow style because it puts horror at ease. they cannot have a single peaceful meal because once they get past the table manners phase it then becomes a completion to see who can eat the least (because they suck at everything including eating)

[stars-n-spice]

Ugh.

Sometimes I remember that Bad Batch gave us this badass Black woman who was a liberator of ancient wonders and was like Indiana Jones but fucking cooler and witty, charming, and FUN and so so so nice and caring and understanding and she befriended the Bad Batch and gave them a safe place in the galaxy to call home and then made her the love interest of the heavily autistic coded white-washed Maori man and thus made them an interracial couple

AND THEN-

they killed off Tech and then used Phee as an uber driver for s3 and didn't give her any closure or anything for his death.