#c o n c h

[assemblageofbirds]

Everyone has a plan until they get a conch shell thrown into their airspace.

[actressposts]

[ryllen]

Aw man, jade looks so cute from front view

[nickkkdoesstuff]

I'm doing a single father au on Twitter lmao

Here's some sketches

[astronomicaltaxon]

errrrm hell° everyp°ny!!

[clownsuu]

I give you an

A

A

Also I stole this ask just so I can post this fuggin weirdo I made smhh (I raise from the dead just to post an oc again LMAOAOAOAO)

Hopefully this will be my last one in a long while I can live with 7 fuggin wh characters HHFHFUDJSNKSSJ- well- technically 8 if you include Betsy-

But to keep it (somewhat) short and sweet- my loser- a ye ol Milkman- Zachary Milksop (chronically lactose intolerant) and Betsy (a lil mascot moo sentient puppet)

Another character made almost spur in the moment again (like Mari) though thankfully not another bUG, but just some average human smhh. He’s a really simple guy, a loser, is as interesting as normal milk— he’s just the ye ol milkman who delivers you that gud shid smhh— enjoyer of the finer things in life (lunchables). A lil flirty and charming (in possibly the cringiest way possible) however he doesn’t really seem to pick up anyone besides the local cows that constantly harass him (and eats his pants). He enjoys watching them though, from v e r y m u c h afar——

hes just kinda, “that guy”

Also Betsy- a very sweet woman! She always greets everyone and has the friendliest extroverted personality ever! Always the type to bring (albeit tiny) gifts for her favorite neighbors and always leads when talking to anyone. Not like she would allow Zach to say anything anyway, she hates his polyester guts (and only him smhh)

[imiteeshon]

[aoitakumi8148]

𝓛𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓤𝓹 𝓐𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼, 𝓢𝓸𝓷... 𝓝𝓸𝔀 𝓖𝓸 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓤𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓷𝓮, 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓷...

𝒞𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒷𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓃-𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝑒 ‹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝓊𝓅› 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃? 𝐼𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 ‹𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃› 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝑔𝑜?

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to dull the edge of it is what I have been doing since v.1. As if something has indeed been fragmented & this is the pain of my conscious life. And every time I travel the melodious/glamorous path of frenzy, every time I complete it, I am going to experience the same precious pain intensity, purity of pain/ecstasy. I am going to eventually be bound to this inmost/overwhelming awe, this vehement impulse to feel/fondle/kiss what is loved, to kneel down before it, to cuddle up to its heart, to recompense bliss with bliss... More and more. Neither the good boy nor I are free. I do not want to be free... free from... These bare feelings are ‹clawing› at the reconstructed interpretation of the organ inside me. The great minds will not know what they have done, neither will Anthony... It speaks louder-truer than anything, but the sounds are not obvious... Words. All I possess, this rich but poor instrument for... And you always do end up in the point where...

The aesthetic masterwork, perfused with the golden brilliance of authentic ideality x pierced with the darkest blade of bitter-salty inaccessibility, inevitability, impossibility.

Excruciation, pleasure, euphoria, art. Blended together. Find yourself... or lose yourself on this journey. Emotionally. Totally. An unparalleled effect... and the lulling sparkle the vessel has never actually had. Something in this body x mind has died, and I do not know if there is a way to accept it, to recover it. I have described the lesson of unprecedentedness I have learned, not the expected story of ‹insult-betrayal-contempt›. No one will ever f-g hear it. Not from me, not in this lifetime. / Loving extraordinary is merciless a priori, დ/დ become telepathic... & the severest trial ~ the unhealable wound ~ is to be a 𝓟 son without the cause to be... *If I have to detest many donkeys for a chance to protect one venerated Father figure, I will go for it.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉... 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓎. 𝐵𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒸𝑒, '𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝑜𝑜. 𝐵𝑒𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊... 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒹𝑒𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈... 𝒮𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹. 𝒮𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓈...

While I am willing to imbibe all the anguish of the human I love, to ease his suffering, the loss of us is taking its toll on me irretrievably. I see him. I see what is inside him... & I am incapable of safeguarding it, saving it truly.

I do not have apathy, depression, anything that would be fashionable to rant about. I am simply in pain... extreme pain. And attempting to put up with this gift is what I have been doing since v.1. The chest is ‹cut open› too deep, the fragility of the organ is exposed... Would you allow me to grow more flowers? I wanna do it... Because it is you, It has always been you. The one who has given us everything, endued me to the brim with the intimate fatherly affection that this organ never remembered. My eternal wish & exuberant price for humanity, the misunderstood nature. *What an odious irony. / I do not know if there is a way to recover what is gone.

I would sacrifice the lot to be with the human that needs me, needs to be healed, heals me. I would rip my core out but I cannot, the limitation of freedom. *Tell me that the ‹strings of abuse/child neglect/lies› are finally cut. Tell me to ‹celebrate›. Tell me that both 𝓟inocchio/I are wrong x naive, ‹fix› me. You have no f-g clue about it. / When it is written that your starving heart must be left half-empty & helpless... No freedom is scarier than this.

Affording harmony to the sapphire star that is going to fall away... The sentiment it deserves. All I have ever hankered for. & I am terrified of that my grandest instinct x fear will not grant any lasting peace to me.

Death will do our Sun-hugged family apart ~ but I will still be yours, for ever. The core has never felt as good x feverish as it does when with you... as astray x anxious as it does when deprived of you. I am not lying to you, I hold no resentment... Let me ‹feed on› the emotions of your heart... Even if it means your pain x my love turn the vessel inside-out & your love x my pain do the same. Not blurred, always remember. Always. If a masterpiece could be made into a masterpiece, I would prefer to share this fate. My bona fide mission, however, is not to allow anything to be in vain... Even if it hurts. ~ The atrophied ability to express love verbally has been ‹roused› again, in a fervidly devoted but preciously righteous way... The ‹lash› of despair, compulsion, dream, reality.

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝒷𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒦𝓇𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝑔𝑜. 𝐼𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃... 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒾𝓈. 𝐿𝒪𝒫 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝟙/𝓂𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝓅𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃𝓈, 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝓊𝓁𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓇.

...Take the whole meaning of this, its flavorful, pathetic, shameless, lonesome taste. Take it all, for it is all that is absolute. Teach me how to ‹merge› with it, the mortal desire of a puppet child, a human Mastro x a faceless observer like myself ~ & when the desire full of unexploited majesty is cutting off the oxygen to the lungs... True geniuses of any kind are among the silent. These eyeballs will not dry up, never fully. I have tried so many times to resist it, but why live if you repel what puts your ‹dehydrated› pieces together? I would spare no effort to keep them hot and uncurb what is being restrained... Nothing affects self-perception and ‹unmasks› the unconscious like sensation, nothing genuinely matters without it. / Shivering with cold, this body is burning. My atrophied reality in exchange for a moment of irrepressible happiness, agony, guiltless x not bottled up impulses ~ just a moment. It keeps consuming me without reserve. I do not need God. ✒

[tideswept]

bite hard enough to count all your teeth | obikin | e | oneshot

the bones of a miracle oneshot/pwp

Obi-Wan stood framed in the doorway to the house, backlit by the dim glow of the hallway. But he wasn’t Obi-Wan. Not with that unearthly blue swallowing up the gray of his eyes. “Hello,” Anakin said slowly, not moving a muscle. Even years later, he wasn’t always entirely sure what set off these episodes, but in this case, he had a pretty good idea. “Did you miss me that much?” Obi-Wan moved forward, nostrils flaring. Anakin dropped the backpack. The wolf was on him before it hit the ground.

[mindibindi]

[lucyandlucy]

Here’s how I wake up every morning

Works very well, I hate disappointing Johnny Cade

[darkheartedprince]

❝ -- Hey , Aqua ? Did you know Terra's kissing random girls again ? It's a shame . I thought he was better than that . ❞

[raddest-laddest]

so far there are 4 types of games to me in regards to spoilers:

don’t care, won’t affect me at all (stardew)

2. spoiled it on purpose to keep myself interested (rainworld)

3. if anything gets spoiled i’ll genuinely become violent (outer wilds)

4. got carried away hyperfixating one night, accidentally spoiled everything, majorly regret it now (hollow knight)

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐄 ໒ ˚⁎

hiii, I was wondering if I could get regressor Vergil from Devil May Cry headcanons? tysm!!

•Vergil doesn't regress on purpose. It happens when he's overwhelmed, exhausted, or mentally vulnerable

•Because Vergil bottles everything up, when he regresses, it's usually sudden and deep—he goes from his usual stoic self to a quiet, withdrawn child

•He struggles to accept care, even when he needs it. If someone ( like Dante or Nero ) tries to comfort him, he might initially reject it before slowly allowing it

•Age Range: Typically around 4–6 years old, sometimes a little older (7–8) if he's feeling more stable

•Silent but Needy: He doesn’t talk much when regressed, preferring gestures or single-word responses. He clings to familiarity—be it a person ( Dante, Nero, or even V ) or an object like his coat, Yamato

•He tries to take care of himself even while regressed ( once he attempting to make food but making a mess, trying to be "strong" but failing to hold back tears )

•Due to his childhood trauma, he gets easily distressed if someone leaves, even temporarily. He won’t ask them to stay outright, but his body language screams it

•Vergil isn't used to affection, so he flinches at first if hugged or patted on the head. But once he trusts someone, he subtly leans into it

Negative agere triggers :

Stress, especially if he feels like he’s losing control, memories of his childhood, feeling weaker than he "should" be and being separated from loved ones for too long

Comfort Items / Positive triggers :

His coat that he wraps himself in it like a security blanket, books, ( though in regression he only flips through them or looks at pictures ), tea or warm drinks help calm him down, soft classical music or white noise ( like rain sounds )

Who Takes Care of Him?

Dante: The most patient with regressed Vergil, though he makes lighthearted jokes. He gives him space but makes sure he eats and rests !

Nero: A little awkward at first but ends up being surprisingly gentle. He doesn’t push Vergil to talk but stays close by, making sure he feels safe

V (if split from Vergil): Has an almost instinctual ability to comfort him, reading to him or letting Shadow curl up beside him

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

[aberooski]

Respectfully?

SOBBING 🥹

[lalavenderangel]

like seriously this man has been looking so fine (he always does who am i kidding) and i am such a SLUT for the stache like pls never shave it again Nicholas i beg of you 😮‍💨🤍