#i dont think i need to.. tag this as anything else

[acoraxia]

familial hc for Wukong coming up

Wukong obviously was never exactly a child; even if he was just as inexperienced and unguided as one.

so when he sees mother monkeys carrying their sons, a warm ache would flicker to life in his chest. yearning for something that he never had.

the same familiar ache would hum to life when he saw Pigsy and Tang around MK. as he watched the mortal grow from the sidelines, he saw the couple raise the child with a kind of gentleness that Wukong could only dream of.

the ache became more constant.

but as training began and progressed, Wukong felt something shift. even though he was avoidant to touch after near nothing of it for centuries, he found himself ruffling MK’s hair. placing a grounding hand on his shoulder when he was wound up and spiraling, or even hugging and spinning him around in the air when MK finally perfected an attack that had him working for weeks to master.

now, Wukong knows he is no father to MK, that title belongs to Pigsy and Tang. but by gods, the ache in his chest dissolves into pride when he sees MK’s excited face beaming back at him.

Wukong may have never known a gentle guiding hand, but he’s grown to become one. and with that, he’s content.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU KILL MENCJDKSNCDJKSNCDKSNCJKDS

not the ache of knowing you'll never have what you always wanted because you know you're not good enough to have a child yet like goodness gracious he will never be able to have that but he's become a parental figure in his own way

my god

fuckingcndjksncdjks hell

[umblrspectrum]

my text disappeared here when i posted. what happened

[seiwas]

cw: suggestive, just iwaizumi being hot in a muscle tee, use of 'baby', sweat, unedited sawry (this is my pure carnal desire for this man)

iwaizumi hasn’t worn a muscle tee in years—

it hangs off him like a singular piece of cloth, haphazardly cut to show off as much skin as possible. slutty, the way mattsun and makki had intended for it to look when they gifted it to him in his third year of college.

which, to be fair, maybe he was one—a slut, that is. whoring himself out completely with those ‘subtle’, ‘lowkey’ thirst trap instagram stories on his fitness account. the way his skin flushed a darker peach after your joint gym days was always borderline inappropriate, the strands of his hair sticking up in what you could easily mistake as sweat-matted sex hair.

iwaizumi’s muscle tee days are well associated with him being the image of absolute sin.

but it was all for you anyway: the instagram stories he set on ‘close friends’ only, the hours he kept free so he could align his gym schedule to yours—

“oh! that’s perfect!” you beam at him, your smile completely unaware.

“yeah. it all worked out…” he casually brushes it off.

—it was oikawa's idea in the first place.

"you have to sell yourself better iwa-chan," the brunet whines over the phone.

and so he did; followed every embarrassing idea oikawa came up with, posed and posted in ways extremely un-iwaizumi, and stocked up on muscle tees. a lot of them. only for him to be called—

"simp," oikawa snorts on the call. iwaizumi groans, rolling his eyes.

—"baby," you stop dead in your tracks, your breath on hold.

yeah, he thinks, it was all worth it because this is what you call him now.

"is that—?" you inch closer, mouth falling slightly open. he thinks there are stars in your eyes as you ask, "are you wearing—?"

oh.

iwaizumi looks down at the muscle tee hanging off his body and feels a little bit exposed. he just came from the gym and he hasn't worn a muscle tee in years, his collection of them having dwindled over time. the only reason he kept this one is because of its sentimental value, and the fact that it came from makki and mattsun.

compression shirts are his thing now, which you approve of very much, but you're both in the middle of moving, and some of his clothes are still in boxes.

you approach him slowly, "is this a comeback?" the smirk on your face grows when you reach him, your hands fiddling with the fabric.

this is the same muscle tee he was wearing the first time you told him you loved him.

he moves away before you can come any closer.

"sweaty," he scrunches his nose as he takes your hands into his, kissing your fingertips.

you scoff, pressing yourself right into his chest, "even better."

your hands cling to his sides, slipping underneath the damp cotton of his muscle tee as you rake your fingers down planes of taut muscle. he shivers, breath hitching as the heat travels up his body, flushing the sides of his neck deep peach.

you peer up at him and grin, placing small pecks at the areas of his collarbone that peek through.

fucking—

his hands grip your waist, keeping you in place as he tilts his head low, lips grazing just the tip of your ear.

"don't tease," he warns, voice low and hoarse, but his hands show no signs of moving away.

notes: i would like to thank @pastelle-rabbit for asking me the hardest question of all time, otherwise this little blurb wouldn't exist

[cj-the-random-artist]

Let us dance into the night as the fire rages on....

Gonna add a greyscale version, the sketch this was based on under the cut, but all I really have to say about this is that this is the first time in a long time. Maybe even years. That I've sketched up a simple doodle and had it grab me by the soul and rip and illustration out of me. This is also the first illustration in a long time where I enjoyed the whole process. I also tried different techniques and stuff here and I'm in love with how this turned out actually

But yeah greyscale version and sketch this was based on under the cut

I was gonna add some rambles down here about the way I think about Narinder and the Lamb's dynamic and the stuff going on in the background and other things but after spending like an hour and a half writing and rewriting this caption. Uh. Nevermind lol

Enjoy the chaos that is this drawing and, if you're reading this, may something good happen for you today

[cent-scratchnsniff]

The L corp employees vandalize the walls by the way

I never noticed it in game until now. There is one for Chesed's as well but its taken from my phone so I won't add the hall. Below are the writings in a clearer form to see along with a bit of scuffed translation for some. In order its Malkuth, Yesod, Netzach, Hod, Tiphereth A (Girl, First Section), Tiphereth B (Boy, Second Section), Chesed, Gebura, Hokma, and Binah. It's labeled as [sephirah name][ester] in assets.

I'm assuming the reason why I couldn't find the ones in the bottom layer in game is due to the fact they have Binah and Hokma as their sephirahs. And Yesod's department... it explains itself. If they are there I'm just blind. I used google translate for some of them but stopped after awhile as i had to manually try to match up characters after writing the general shape and that takes awhile BUT! In Malkuth's they talk about how 'joint training sucks' and how one sin and a hundred good deeds is 'creepy' with a doodle of it as well. Yesod's has one of an employee going 'We are all going to die!' with it underlined and a smaller response to it being 'shut up, you piece of shit!' along with a drawing of a PE box and it being called 'the root of all evil'. Chesed having a huge 'PESCA' (fishing) because of his ocean themed department. Even the clerks have sailor uniforms. Also a 'Get out of here!' near the left side as well with an 'already?' right next to the tally marks. Netzach's talking about the beer vending machine, how the upper layers are better (i couldn't tell what the response to that comment was supposed to be though) and 'here is the enkephalin'. Again, machine translated so not the EXACT words and only for a couple of them but I hope it's interesting!

[jackietaylorsghost]

TWIN PEAKS (1990) YELLOWJACKETS (2021) (insp @holdbeast) 

[chimerahyperfix]

CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.

-----

The King is here.

You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.

It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.

It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!

You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.

You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.

You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.

So they march to their deaths.

The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.

You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.

No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.

Not anymore.

It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.

There were people here.

The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.

You try not to think about it.

You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.

There are still no tears.

Plan B, then. The King himself.

You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.

He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.

"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.

He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.

"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.

You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.

He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.

"I don't know." It's the truth.

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.

"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."

He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.

It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.

It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.

You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."

Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.

Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

You

Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.

So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.

Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.

You

Blink,, and

The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.

How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.

It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.

Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.

You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.

You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.

[impostorsshow]

I'm actually so obsessed with him it's not even funny if i'm not listening to a TikTok or music directly related to him I can't focus free me free me

This is @/cherubpuppet's OC for a object show [au? pitch? wip show? How do I categorize this] and I've been destroyed by the fact that ruler art is infinitely superior [and 10x longer] and i don't have a good enough grasp on lip gloss's personality to make fanfiction so I am frozen in "want make fanart but fanart takes effort :["

[sandrathachao]

i’ve always had a habit of drawing line-ups of characters when i get really into something new, these have been finished for a while but i forgot to post them! Peppino I’ve drawn many times, but this is the first time drawing rest of the cast

[sprolden]

tired of being quiet about this.......i do think dnp returning to youtube in the way that they did is one of the most unexpected events in the history of the internet to me. dan howell is a far, far better person than me because if i were him i would be in jail or in the hospital or both and certainly not on youtube. the amount of trust he has in their audience despite It All is insane to me i genuinely didnt think i'd ever see him again and my main feeling about that was 'good for him' and yet here the 2 of them are..... every post-hiatus video i click on feels like a fever dream from another universe. i hope everyone who watches them knows their newfound openness is very undeserved

[meamiki]

i will not elaborate further beyond the original notes i had:

these are the type of thoughts i have while eating breakfast ASDASD

[m0dernv4mpire]

At this point he's just my oc haha like he isn't even recognizable....Good

[jjanguri]

put that jacket back on right Now

[arolegos]

i need to get obsessed with a new media so badly

[s0fti3w1tch]

oooo is td gonna have an IDW situation where it's like Leo's dark Leo split personality by the aftermath? Maye that;d be cool

I'm not going to do that.

I know you have good intentions, but as the host of an OSDD system, I want to tell you that this isn't right.

I have a lot of feelings about IDW's whole Dark Leo situation after the events of City Fall story arc. Though, even regardless of those feelings, there are very few situations where giving a character an evil alter sits right with me (which is to say, I've seen good hypothetical story ideas from other systems, but never one from a notable published work).

In the way you're suggesting, this is not one that sits right.

This is a tired, harmful trope that I do not wish to include in my work.

I am not saying you are a bad person who meant to inflict harm. I simply wish to inform you as someone who has been harmed by the various misconceptions relating to those like us.

[zoneofsmites]

RO: I… am pregnant, it’s yours.

The Dark Urge, local bhaalspawn with a medical proficiency: we should probably get that fixed. *holds up knife* i know my way around the human body i can do it for you.