believe me babes I know how you feel, truly😚😚😚
I'm so upset that I can't date Steven Grant
love...
隣の.....??? (トトロパロ)
my baby boi 🩷
uuuhhhhhmmmmMMMMM….
——
“Hey?”
“Hi.”
Interrupting his cooking, your hands come up to gently slot Choso’s face, smiling lovingly up at him while you angle him to face you. His chopping fingers still as you divert his attention, and he gives you a small smile and let his eyes wander your face. “Whatcha doin’?”
You raise on your tiptoes to plant a small kiss to his lips, “mwah.”
“Mwah,” he echos, his eyes dancing over your face affectionately.
“One more-“ you raise on your toes again to plop another kiss on his lips, “mwah!”
“Mwah.”
“Okay,” you hum, kissing his cheek and patting his back lovingly, “you can go back to cooking. Let me know when you need me.”
“I always need you,” he calls.
You just really like kissing Choso. You knew you liked it from the second you’d kissed him for the first time, unable to stop thinking about him and how right kissing him felt, you love kissing him like breathing and it feels just as comforting.
You kiss him anywhere and everywhere, grateful for the man you call your boyfriend and his chivalry of never letting you go too long without a kiss, or letting you kiss him whenever or wherever you see fit.
Like how the other day, driving home, he paid no mind as you grabbed his hand gently from the wheel, planting tiny kisses on the pads of his fingers and knuckles before letting it go back to its perch on the wheel.
Or, when you’re cuddling, and you slowly start kissing the sharpness of his jawline, not to mark it up, but sheerly because it’s the perfect area to sponge sticky kisses on, and he wraps his arms around you, as if to shield the action from the sunlight pouring in the windows.
Or, when you'd been rough housing for who knows how long, and once you rolled on top of him victoriously, you were able to pin his hands next to his head and pepper kisses over his scrunched face.
"It tickles," he complained.
You shrugged and smiled mischievously down at him, "that's punishment for losing."
You both know his words are empty, and he loves kissing you as much as he loves receiving them.
More than anything, your need to kiss Choso is nothing short of an obsession, compulsory and tkes over your mind and soul where you can't even begin to process going on with your day until the fixation is settled.
Not that either of you have ever complained.
—-
Taggin 🥺🩷 @reverie-starlight @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes @rrairey @dira333 @unknownspecies
he desperately needs some tlc 🥲
summary: all sanji needed was a little bit of love to open up to you
notes: this was a modified request that takes place post whole cake, i suppose, so spoilers! angsty, sad sanji (sadji) x gender neutral reader! lots of comforting! no cw warnings! around 1,300+ words!
every morning sanji had a routine. he’d wake up fifteen minutes before his alarm, making sure to turn it off so as to not wake you. spending this allotted time drowning in your smell; he tangled his long limbs within yours and held you tightly to him.
he’d depart with a few too many kisses, surely bringing you out from your slumber, neatly fixing his side of the bed, and beginning his day with a spring in his step.
today was an anomaly of days, your eyes slowly blinking open, the room swallowed by a dim light. the overcast in the sky seemed to cause you to wake later than you anticipated, the clock on your wall reading 11:37 am.
the sheets beside you, usually folded over as pristinely as sanji could make them, sat in disarray. had it been anyone else, you’d disregard the notion; perhaps he had run too far behind schedule this morning.
but it was unlike sanji, even in a time crunch, to leave a mess in his absence. he was incredibly anal with situations like these, you knew him too well to brush the idea off as forgetfulness as you approach him in the kitchen.
the creaky door that franky keeps forgetting to fix would normally signal your entrance and cue your boyfriend to fawn all over you, but he remains behind the kitchen sink, not budging an inch.
his blonde hair hangs low, hiding his expression from you as he gingerly places the wet plates on the drying rack.
“sanji?” you question, investigating his face once he notices you’re there.
your brows furrow upon further examination; his blue eyes are accompanied by dark under eye bags and his milky skin is dull, the loss of color noticeable, even for his complexion.
“oh, my swan, how’re you? you missed breakfast.” he smiles, but the way his lips loosely hug, you know it’s purely a facade so as to not draw attention from you.
though you had only been dating for a few months, you knew you had to plan out your next moves carefully and approach the situation with caution. sanji would “i’m fine” himself death had he got the chance.
“was dreaming of you, so i didn’t really want to wake up,” you tease, earning a light laugh from him.
from this point on, he’d usually take the opportunity to discuss his night and what his dreams consisted of, but silence then falls over you two.
“did you eat?” you speak up.
he pulls his hands out of the water, drying them off on a nearby dish towel. “wasn’t hungry.”
as soon as he moves around the counter, you step in front of him.
you tsk in response, blocking him from exiting the area with arms crossed over your chest. “well, i’d like for you to eat something. you didn’t eat dinner last night either,” you reply.
sanji stares down at you, a melancholy look in his eye, but he obliges, dropping two slices of bread into the toaster.
“that’s it?” you argue, a mused smile curling his lips.
“i’m really not that hungry today, my darling,” he assures, leaning against the counter.
you know better than to accept that justification, arms reaching out to cage him between the kitchen and your body. “and why is that?” you ask, pressing yourself against his chest, eyes boring right back into his.
he flicks his gaze between your eyes, then your lips, and then your eyes, once again. he knows what you’re doing, but he bites anyway, strong arms hugging you snug against him.
“i’ve been a little sad these past couple of days,” he explains, another forged grin coaxing his features. it was the one of the first signs that he was asking you to dismiss this conversation.
“sanji—“
the toast pops from the toaster, causing the both of you to release your grip as he refocuses his attention on his unwanted meal.
with his back turned to you, you take it upon yourself to latch onto him again. “i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me sanji. i’m here. i want to help,” you whisper, a shaky breath escaping your throat right after. “please, let me help.”
your eyes shut tightly as the only response you receive is silence. sanji was never one to discuss his own feelings freely, it was something he had always deemed a luxury for a reason you hated reminding yourself of.
a shaky whimper reverberates against your body and you take the cue to release your grip, turning him around so that you can see him again.
his hand grips tightly onto his face, though it proves futile as a tear streams down his cheek; then another, and another, and another. his fingers twitch as they reach out for you, desperately seeking your warmth and comfort as his body slumps into yours.
sanji’s frame is much larger than your own, his strength of his weight was much stronger when he didn’t remember to hold back.
but you’re greedy for this vulnerability, soaking in every ounce that he’d offer as you wrap your arms around his neck.
his tears slowly seep into the fabric of your shirt, while he lets out a few more choked cries before confessing. “have i ever told you about my mother?” he finally speaks.
when he pulls away you shake your head, reaching up to wipe away the tears that stain his face. your gentle expression urges, pleads, for him to continue, an act that melts his heart.
“she was so kind,” he explains, a sad smile grazing him. more tears fall before he says anything, but you allow him that grace which gives him the time to finally gather himself. “she’s the reason i wanted to be a cook.”
the burning sadness that bites at your heart leaves you speechless, unable to fathom how he could’ve kept this inside for so long.
“i know she would’ve loved you.”
now, you have to bite back your own tears, the agony that accompanies his words hangs on to each sentence that tears at your heart.
“she passed fourteen years ago today,” he admits, a shaky sigh heaving from his chest.
as you watch his lip quiver, you pull him flush against you again, unsure if it was for his benefit or that he wouldn’t see the heartbreak that washed over your face.
“i’m so sorry,” is all you can mutter before the both of you sink to the floor, sobs now emanating from the both of you. “she would be so proud of you, sanj,” you murmur, a light cry echoing throughout the room.
sanji perches himself against the closed cupboards, his head rests against the wood as he wraps an arm around you.
“i miss her,” he admits, lying his head against yours.
you nod, only able to physically act in fear a verbal response would elicit more of your tears.
he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a worn, folded up picture.
the woman on the paper is stunning; her porcelain features mirror sanji’s, the resemblance being uncanny. “she’s so pretty,” you say.
sanji chuckles, nodding along, “yeah, she was.”
the both of you stare at the image for a couple of minutes, basking in the beauty that sanji’s mother had. you can’t help but admire the curvature of her lips, the shape of nose and eyes, all qualities that your boyfriend possesses.
“you look just like her,” you comment, reaching to grab his hand.
“so i’ve been told,” he breathes, finally able to catch his breath. “thank you, by the way.”
with a puzzled expression, you glance up at him. “for what?”
sanji shrugs, squeezing your hand within his. “listening to me. feels good to talk about her,” he confesses.
the air in the room eases, it hangs lighter over the both of you; rather than an all consuming fog, it sits delicately upon the both of you like a warm blanket on a cold day.
“that’s what i’m here for,” you emphasize, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated !
no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light…
he gets me speechless
WHO DECIDED TO GATEKEEP THIS.
credit: haekz (ig) I WAS TOLD THIS BY A COMMENT!!
now i really wanna have (his) babies
Oooo Kenji Sato x a curvy girlfriend please? I wanna see how emi and kenji are upset and “arguing” who’s turn to cuddle the reader while she and professor Sato are eating snacks
heree youu go, hon. sorry abt the wait. enjoyy<33
She's mine
kenji sato x curvy!fem!reader
this contains: fluff, cuddling, silly banters.
summary: kenji amd emi quarrel for your attention.
masterlist !
"you think they'd stop this nonsense anytime soon?" professor sato asked you, pushing the box of donuts towards you.
you picked one with the strawberry filling, "highly unlikely," you bit into it, watching the drama unfold in front of you with professor sato.
kenji and emi arguing by the workplace, voices raised and hands moving around exaggeratedly.
kenji's finger was pointed directly at emi as she adamantly flailed her arms in response. her face was drawn down in distress, clearly feeling frustrated and unheeded by his stern demeanor.
"you had her last week!" kenji argued, "now, it's my turn,"
emi squealed in protest, flopping down on the ground with a cry.
"oh really? you think you can have her by throwing a fit?! not gonna happen, princess,"
you rolled your eyes at the scene, lips tugging upwards in amusement.
"no can do, missy!" kenji hollered at the kaiju baby, "she's mine. i got her first! you came around like what, a few weeks ago?" he pretended to think, "get in line, young woman!" he jabbed a thumb behind his back.
growling in frustration, emi sent a ray of sound waves his way. kenji barely dodged it at the nick of time, gaping up at emi. at the nerve to do so.
"this is so stupid," you face-palmed, sliding off the chair from professor sato's side and headed towards the children's quarrel.
"okay kids," you got in between them, speaking sternly, "mommy's here. behave yourself-" you yelped when you were pulled into kenji's arms, made to stand in front of him.
emi pouted, making grabby hands at you, cooing in need.
kenji pulled you into him in such a way your back was flush with his chest, "i don't even need to argue or explain myself to you whatsoever, emi," his palms splayed on your love handles, holding you possessively, "she's mine," he kissed your neck possessively, making your squirm in place, his fingers curling on your soft skin of your stomach.
emi's cheeks wobbled her and shoulders sagged in defeat, assuming you had picked him over her.
her cheeks wobbled and emi wailed loudly, kicking her legs on front of her.
he scoffed at her, "you think she's gonna coddle you- honey, don't coddle her," kenji uttered to you when you slipped out of his arms and headed towards emi.
you strode towards her, climbing the high-rise stool and sat cross-legged on it, "my poor baby, c'mere," you cooed at her, stretching your arms put in front of you, "s'okay, my love,"
"i thought i was your love," kenji mumbled lowly, ducking his head. but you heard it.
you shot him a stern glare that spoke 'not now, kenji,"
your boyfriend groaned loudly, stomping over to his father's side and sat on your seat. he grabbed a donut, stuffing his face to cope up with the annoyance that was bubbling in him.
"shh, shh, i'm right here," you hands spread on her cheeks when she leaned towards you. you pressed a loud smooch to her orange beak, making her sobs stop instantly.
kenji rolled his eyes, "cheap trick-ow!"
professor sato hit his son at the back of his son with his cane, "get it together!"
you had cuddled emi to sleep, her arm slung over your lap. you brushed your palms on her round cheeks to ease her into sleep.
you carefully slipped out, heading towards the corner of the basement where kenji was making his daily coffee.
he heard you approach and looked at you over his shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief, "can i have you to myself now?"
you gave him a nose-scrunched smile, arms held wide for him.
kenji rushed into your awaiting arms, pulling you into him. his face burying into the crook of your neck, "finally, all mine,"
you slipped your hands into the hair at the back of his neck, "you need to grow up,"
you stilled when you felt him kiss your jaw, muttering desperately, "missed you so much, baby. you have no idea," he huffed into your chest like a needy child, clinging onto you.
he sat on the couch behind, pulling you on his lap. his hands were at the back of your thighs, making you straddle him.
his fingers squeezed your thighs, as though to make sure you were actually with him
"kenji...?" you rested your hands on his shoulders, your tone questioning.
"shush, sweetheart," kenji silenced you with a kiss to your lips. your chest against his, both hearts beating in sync, "you're not going anywhere. and m'not gonna lose you to a kaiju baby, for god sakes,"
I want...
Lee Soo Hyuk as dracula Park Joong Gil
Tomorrow (2022) – Episode 12
❤️
coping real hard
just saw the movie....want this tortured baby so i can heal him 😭
Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x reader
Word count: 2.1K
Warning: 18+ MDNI, mentions of anxiety, injuries, not a lot of spice, some fluff, not proof/beta read lol, does not contain spoilers for Monkey Man.
Note: Absolutely am in love with Dev Patel, he adores the world and fandom love! Also special mention to my friend @mittos who helped with this prompt/story ideas. Go and see Monkey Man if you haven't already! And if you have go and see it again! Also jaan is a Hindi term of endearment. Also can we take a moment for Dev Patel's side profile?! Comments, and reblogs are always appreciated as well! I hope you enjoy!
************************************************************************
It was late, extremely late. It had been a slow night but it was quickly becoming the latest it had ever been without his tired, bloody presence. It made you uncomfortable how late it was becoming, he never took this long to show up after a big match. You bit your nails as you couldn’t help but think about the possibility of where he was and scarily, what condition he was in.
It was a risky field that Kid was in, especially when he was the losing dog for the overeager, sweaty crowd not to bet on. He took the punches and rarely complained about it, you’d only ever been to one of his fights before and never again. It was too painful to watch, you’d bitten each of your fingernails right down to the beds, and you swore that it gave you a few grey hairs. If you had any, each of them could be traced back to being his fault, you were sure. You loved him, truly adored him, but he certainly knew how to stress you out.
You’re sitting down waiting for him to arrive. You don’t even realise that you’ve put your hand up to your face to bite your nails but now you know that you must’ve as you’ve been subconsciously biting them as you look out the window waiting, lost in your thoughts. You could think and use that as a distraction but no, the more you think or gaze off, the more you think about him, worry about him and overanalyse every little thing to be analysed, including what would need a magnifying glass to do so. You sigh and rub your face tiredly and also as another poor attempt at a distraction to take your mind away from him.
It was a ridiculous thought, nothing could distract you from him, Kid lived rent-free in your mind 24/7, no matter what you did or wanted. And now was his prime time for filling your head.
You rub your face some more and then look up, you can hear the door quietly open and the sound of gentle footsteps start to make their way to you. You look up as you try to glimpse the start of his lean shadow to confirm that he’s really, really, finally here. The light switch turns on as you see his arm stretch out and then he’s standing there in your doorway.
You look up at him as he stands, he just looks at you for a moment. His gorgeous doe-eyes are wide, he looks exhausted and defeated but there’s a small smile on his face as his eyes meet yours. Ever since you’d known Kid, he had always been a man of few words, which seemed to balance out just how expressive his handsome face was. You liked that though, that his eyes truly were the window to his soul. You did like his voice though as well, you’d have no problem with him using it more. Sometimes he would talk though, about his sweet mother, the stories of Hanuman that his mother had told him and that had vividly stuck with and inspired him still.
You quickly take him in, there’s sweat in his hair, a cut in his cheek, and his knuckles are bloody as always. You bite your lip as you look at him, chewing over your words so you don’t come across as either a scolding lover or treating him like a patient.
“Your hands…” You finally say as he steps closer to you and you can see that he made some attempt to cover them with a bit of cloth but the blood is all over his right hand.
“It’s fine.” He says in a soft whisper, his voice is melodic as always but a little hoarse and deep. He looks down at his hand he tries not to flinch when you take his hand and it’s further proof that no, it really isn’t fine. You sigh and move his hand to check his fingers, it causes discomfort but based on the movement you know it’s not broken at least. It was genuinely impressive that he was still alive, still functioning and not just with everything he’d been through as a young boy, but with the amount of beatings he’d taken at the club. That he’d somehow avoided major damage to his body, that his handsome looks were still intact, and also his teeth. That was a big surprise you had to admit.
“Sit down.” You look at him with a look of concern, one that he doesn’t like. “Come on, I’ll clean it up.” You say softly. He runs his right hand, his good hand through his damp but perfect locks and he sighs, sitting down, waiting for you to fix his wounds and to feel your tender touch.
You’d had the first aid kit ready to go, sitting on the floor waiting for his entrance. You always used it, he always needed it. Your medical background certainly helped, some nights you’d crack a joke that that was the only reason why he was with you. The first time you made that joke his eyes widened at first, and he immediately stuttered to try and reassure her that that wasn’t the case. He didn’t realise that it was a joke. You’d kissed him to reassure him and he kissed you back so sweetly. Now when you made the joke he’d just look at you and give you a small, precious chuckle. You just want to make him smile, make him laugh, bring him joy, and make him feel safe. He deserved that at the very least, especially with his gigantic hug.
His hand clearly had taken the worst of it, you hold it gently in yours, and his hand twitches for a moment. He’s spent most of his life being devoid of affection. He craved a gentle touch, to feel seen and safe in the company of another. He’d started to find that with you, in the way you looked at him, how you carefully held his hand in arms when cleaning an injury and wrapping it up. You somehow had never noticed it, he figured it was because of how attentive you were to his injuries, to him, and his lips quirked up into a secret smile you’d miss over the irony of you not noticing this because of how attentive you were being to him.
“You were later than usual.” You say as you clean his bruised and bloodied knuckles.
“I know.” He whispers as he looks up at you, he’s tired but there’s a small smile on his lips as he knows the scolding is incoming, just what degree is it going to be from you tonight, is the question.
“I was worried, my fingernails are almost as bloody as your knuckles because of how much I was biting them.” You say as you try to clean his hand gently, noting how his hand occasionally twitches in response.
“Would’ve been quite a match.” He whispers before he looks at your hands, noticing your nervously bitten nails. His cheeks heat up as he can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt about causing you to worry so, he’s spent so much of his life without someone who cares about him like this. You sigh and roll your eyes at his response.
“You’re going to be the cause of every single grey hair I have in this lifetime.” You say as you treat the knuckle wounds, making sure you’re gentle. “All I do is worry, you spend every night getting beaten, thrown off tables. It’s going to be too much one day. Something will go wrong. Then what?” Kid can’t help but look up at you, it’s a conversation that’s happened more than a few times. “What if it’s your spine or something? I won’t be able to fix that-” “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m okay, jaan.” He says as he looks up at you, his big brown eyes are widened and he’s looking at you with his sad puppy dog eyes, he feels bad for making you worry so much.
You sigh, biting your lip as you try to stop yourself from saying anything else. He’s too sweet and so you nod and finish cleaning and bandaging everything. After a moment, you cup his cheek as you look at his warm eyes and you go to get him some water to drink. He watches you and continues to as he drinks the water. You two have become quite good at playing a game of watching each other, almost like it’s a sport to observe the other.
He looks at you, tilting his head which tousles the gorgeous locks he has a little. You sigh and run a hand through his soft brown curls, damp with sweat but somehow miraculously not blood. His hair has always been absolutely perfect. You feel bad for essentially venting your anxieties at him right as he’s come from a long night of work at the club.
“I only scold because I care.” You say but you’re not sure if it’s him or yourself that you’re trying to convince more as you say the words, but it’s true technically. “It’s a form of doting really.” You say as you look at him as he adjusts in his seated position, looking up at you with his wide, doe-eyed orbs. Even if it was a form of doting, you could never stay mad at him for long when having to look into those gorgeous eyes. They’d melt away any troubles and you’re sure if awards were given out for best brown eyes, he’d win. You hated that he did this, that this was how he had to get by. That he had to take these awful, unhealthy beatings but you love him anyway.
He was freshly bandaged now, he moved his hand up and Kid started to slowly caress your cheek, he traced some invisible line so gently with the pads of his fingertips as he looked at you. His doe eyes were filled with adoration and peacefulness as he concentrated on your beauty. You let him, it was soothing and sweet and you had no reason to even consider stopping this. You were his and he was yours.
Your eyes glance down at his fingers, and then you put a hand up to cup his cheek and look into the most beautiful eyes you could ever imagine seeing. After he feels your touch his eyes quickly close and he inhales. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to the feeling of your fingers on his face, of how your hair feels against his skin, or your breath, but he knows for sure, that he’ll at least never tire of it.
His fingers glide down do your mouth and he traces your lips as he looks at them. He tilts his head and before he can even move, you’ve moved your head to press your lips together. There’s something about how gentle his hands are with you, how they feel even after everything that has happened to him and that he does. How it just takes a glance at you for him to melt into a puddle.
You put your hand back into his hair and run it through his curls as he kisses you back and the kiss deepens almost immediately. He cups your cheek gently as your lips move together in sync and you can’t help but start to tug his locks a little and his hand moves to your waist to hold you close against him. You continue to play and tug his hair as his lips move down your chin and jaw and he kisses your neck. You gasp out and tug on his hair a bit more as you feel his breath tickle your throat between his passionate kisses. You struggle to not let out a giggle as he does this and you feel your cheeks heating up as you tilt your head back so your neck is as exposed as possible for him while he kisses your throat and makes his way to your collarbone.
He always gets like this, and so quickly. He just needs a little touch, the reassurance of you being there and he feels an all-consuming need to make up for the years of loneliness, the lack of affection, the lack of physical contact outside of a fight he was guaranteed to lose. He has you in his arms and it’s something right for once, if it was a game this would be a victory, some kind of peace.
Several characters on “how they love you”
fandoms: twilight, pjo, the mortal instruments, Harry Potter, jujutsu kaisen, supernatural, dc, snk, Dune
several characters x reader
characters: tbh I’m not going to list everyone because it’s too many people I’ll try to tag every character 🤷🏻♂️☠️
pronouns: none (everything is gender neutral)
It can be read as platonic or romantic tbh
tw: “soft-dark content”, HINTS (keyword: hints) of cannibalism as a love language, obsession/yandere vibes, hints of religious beliefs, food? But not really
a/n: I’m extremely confused about this one tbh, there’s a clearly dark feeling lurking here but nothing is explicitly stated so I think everyone is safe. That said, let me know if I’m missing anything that need a tw
Their love for you is like devotion.
For them, you are the transcendental force, orchestrating emotions that defy the confines of earthly boundaries—a celestial symphony resonating within their hearts. Your voice, a tender melody, and your words, poetic threads weaving into the fabric of their soul, embody the very essence of a law they willingly embrace.
In their gaze, your image becomes sacred, akin to a deity they venerate. This love is a feverish thing, a raw emotion intricately woven into the core of their being—so profound that even if stripped of everything, the extraction of your essence remains an impossible feat, steadfast and unyielding, present deep inside their beings.
They love you with a reverence akin to a worshipper's reverence for their god, for in your existence, they discover a representation of the divine, a depth that eludes the grasp of mere mortal comprehension.
Jace Herondale, Percy Jackson, Edward Cullen, Severus Snape, Yuta Okkotsu, Luke Castellan, Draco Malfoy, Bruce Wayne, Mikasa Ackerman, Paul Muad’Dib Atreides
Their love for you is like starvation
Before meeting you, they were oblivious to the fact that they were undergoing a forced starvation, a void persisting throughout their lives. They felt this emptiness akin to the most profound hunger, a hollow within them that couldn't be filled by anything. It was like the most absolute hunger, an echo of inner deprivation. Always distant, mere spectators of others feasting, watching without ever being satiated.
Unaware that they were in a sentimental and existential fast, until the moment they found you. Only then did they realize the extent to which they had been denied all these years. Their hunger for you is ravenous, cruel, and unjust. It devours every morsel you offer as if it were a three-star Michelin dish, for it is. Everything you do, everything you extend to them, is absolute in their eyes.
They are ready to accept everything you offer, always grateful, always proud to, at the very least, be receiving something.
It’s beautifully ugly, a feeling that unlocks something from the depths of nature. It's a feeding frenzy that blinds them to their surroundings, a tunnel vision propelling them in its direction and only its direction. They were driven to the raw submission of hunger, elevated to the highest point, where, inadvertently, they became prey to a stronger and relentless predator: the hunger for love.
Clarisse La Rue, Dean Whinchester, Jacob Black, Jonathan Verlac/Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, Harry J. Potter, Ryomen Sukuna, Jasper Hale, Jason Todd, Gojo Satoru, Rika Orimoto, Feyd Rautha Harkonnen