#idk i randomly got the

[ewwis-but-fandom]

thinking about how different nanami looks before he went back into the jujutsu business. sure, he's still wearing corporate wear now, but it's so much more expressive. a cream suit, blue shirt, patterned and brightly colored tie, and eccentric glasses. even his hair — where it was once gelled down and perfectly smooth, is now spiky and pushed back, stray hairs here and there. it's clear that he's so much more content as a jujutsushi than a corporate salaryman

[wilimia]

Dungeon Meshi is fun

[thebarrows]

put them in a room together and no one will come out alive (●'◡'●)

[99bowl]

cowgirl dorothy AGAIN!

[bloodiegawz]

extremely professional scientific study

[harringroveera]

For a long time, Billy assumed coming out would be hard. It was actually slightly easier now once he had come to terms with it.

With the kids, they were fine. Half of them didn’t give a shit. With his friends, they were all supporting him as expected. With his mom, Billy had never doubted for a second that Joyce would be anything but happy for him. And he was right. She even baked him a rainbow cake.

The hardest part was coming out to his dad.

It took him a year to call Jim Dad on a random Tuesday night dinner when his dad asked him to pass the bread. He thought telling the man he was gay would be easy peasy lemon squeezy. It was actually hardy struggly lemony not-easy-at-all.

But when his dad opened his arms and held him ever so tightly there, Billy realized he was just overthinking it. Jim wasn’t Neil. Thank fuck he wasn’t. He hugged Billy for as long as Billy wanted to, until Billy cried into his shirt like a little kid. He was sure Dad cried a bit too. And Mom. And Jane. Everyone cried.

As it turned out, coming out wasn’t all that hard for Billy.

[neproxrezi]

someone else could write it better than me but i love how the fucked up nasty shit you can make harry do/say/be in disco elysium isn't just like, random stuff caused simply by the player having free will and control over him but they're parts of who he is and who he has been

you're not a tabula rasa. you're a sudden shock of blank pages in a big, aged, damaged book and sometimes the paper you're trying to write a better man on is torn and you see something through the gaps nobody needed to see ever again. and it's just there now again, back to the surface

[manitapaleta]

the Li-Wilson family is the cutest, change my mind

(you cant)

[telekitnetic-art]

Art fight attack on ChaoticEchoes of her character, Archipelago! 🐉🏝️

Formline dragons are really fun, I've found.

[hawkfrostandmudclaw]

[captain-crowfish]

I felt like this needed to be made Textless/tansparent version below

[despite-everything]

a video about how at 7:23pm on july 12, 2023, i suddenly gained-then-lost the ability to edit @clubsdeuce's post? 8 years after tumblr got rid of that feature?

[lazywriter-artist]

lazywriter-artist!!! draw some salamanders setting stuff on fire, and my life is yours

I cannot tell you how hard this ask had me giggling and stimming— tysm-

Gotta take care of those pesky germs when they get planet side, other chapters just don’t understand 😮‍💨🙄

I’ll be expecting your skull in the mail so I may add it to my skull throne 🫶, at least a vile of your blood is also appreciated

[wisteriagoesvroom]

HI LOVE!!!💖💖💖

pathetic + carcar <3

Oscar sits. The bed is firm beneath his palms. Carlos is on his knees.

The other man’s mouth is parted, gently pliant in a way he never is anywhere else. He's usually this way, crawling to Oscar in his need. Demanding with his touch, on edge after a race, after one of their racing incidents.

If Oscar were unkind, he might think Carlos, still bereft of a seat for '25, was starting to cause on track run-ins with him deliberately. For what reason, Oscar doesn't know, and Oscar doesn't wish to entertain that train of thought because it was a nonstop bullet to nowhere good.

Unfortunately though, he has always enjoyed driving on the limit.

"Is this how you like it? How you need me?” Carlos says, acrid with disgust. With Oscar, with this, with himself — who’s to say.

“I don’t need anything from you.” Oscar replies.

Carlos’s laugh is hollow. “That is a lie. I think you find a strange happiness in leaving me unsatisfied."

Oscar doesn't respond. Just peers at Carlos with his most neutral expression, mind turning. Piecing together the puppet that is Carlos. Heart too big. Talent overshadowed by others. The obvious and barely concealed inferiority issues that might as well leave the man bleeding openly on the side of the track.

Alpine 2022 means Oscar has had too close a brush to irrelevance, and he knows a little something about being unwanted. He has broken his ribs. Understands plenty about silent injury. How to push through pain. It's just the way it is, kid. Mark had said once. Luck of the draw. The words ring in his ears, in the silence.

Perhaps they have more in common than he wants to believe. Perhaps this is why he and Carlos compel each other.

"You are so quiet. I don't know who are you are fooling with your act." Carlos says, under his breath, perhaps more to himself than to anyone else. Trying to bait Oscar, twisting the nail with hope that it hurts.

Carlos clambers up from the floor, bringing himself eye to eye with oscar. "If they only knew what you are like in here, the way you beg me to let you come, the way you look when I–"

Oscar finds himself bored of this. The excessive verbiage, the posturing, when they could just call this what it is. A bad habit. A need.

Besides, Carlos’s arousal is evident the strain of his boxers, the deep maw of his eyes.

So Oscar peers steadily up at Carlos, and spits into his open mouth.

Carlos looks as if he's been slapped. There's a flash of danger in his expression.

Oscar counts upwards. The room is so silent that Oscar thinks there’s an element of truth to that saying about a pin being dropped. Oppenheimer could rise from the dead and remake his bomb, and neither man would probably move.

Then Carlos lunges at Oscar. Kisses him, shoves Oscar so hard back onto the bed that Oscar can barely breathe.

If it's destruction that Carlos wants, then Oscar can be charitable, just this once. He lets Carlos take what he needs, lets Carlos push and push with his tongue and his hands and his body. Lets Carlos take from him until Oscar's own mouth swells with the ache of it. And still, Oscar does not cede, and never does.

Carlos gasps when he breaks the kiss. It’s the surprising noise of concession, of defeat. But Oscar lets Carlos cage him in, hands at the side of his head, and he lies perfectly still. He doesn’t feel the need to posture all the time, to prove his power.

"Are you done?" Oscar says.

Carlos hovers, muscles tensed with anticipation, waiting for the gunshot. The next move from Oscar to push them over the edge, or end it all.

You're pathetic, Oscar thinks.

But watching Carlos spiral, watching him fall apart in the face of Oscar's glacial indifference - Oscar wonders if he is the pathetic one too.

As the person who keeps the door open for a kicked dog.

Who unfolds his hand, and lets him stay.

[kyuhu]

would be great if tumblr would actually show me posts of the blogs I follow instead of 5 repeating ones I've seen 20 times already

[localcanadiancreature62]

Heyyyy we're almost at the end of Fiddtober. I luckily finished everything last minute before the month ends lolll. Fiddtober Day 19-31. Also,i merged Binary and Computer into one frame btw.