#ooc kinda?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
haisfin · 6 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
maybe ppl done some of these but me and my friends were making incorrect isat quotes on call like months ago - soem are new tho teehee
802 notes · View notes
softcorecurcits · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
My “human” Orbo cuz I like this dude a normal amount I think the fucking orb is hot ok and I ponder him frequently…
Also Scarab x Orbo below I was too embarrassed to post on my main twitter but it’s fine I think??? Idk still embarrassed 👍
Tumblr media
71 notes · View notes
estonia-officially · 12 days ago
Text
*gets one like/reblog all day*
FUCK YEAH IM FAMOUS YEAAHAHHHAHH
2 notes · View notes
radiating-hot · 3 months ago
Text
That's what her bakings are served in btw!! 😋
Tumblr media
0 notes
eatmyson · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
this one's inspired by @cringefailvox's time has changed the metaphor!
It was such a good read and I couldn't stop thinking about these three ever since.
10K notes · View notes
toyogamii · 4 months ago
Text
pt.1
shoko has never seen satoru gojo; the strongest, look quite this weak. he’s sprawled across his office desk and the smell of vodka hits her so hard her eyes water.
“what are you doing?” she drawls, eyes flitting around the room as she tries to make sense of the man’s pathetic state.
“y/n?” he slurs and struggles to raise his head up.
shoko sighs.
“not quite.”
she drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her heel as she walks over to him. he finally meets her eyes and she frowns. he looks… dead. the look reminds her of someone long ago… and for a brief moment she’s terrified of the sorcerer in front of her.
“what’s going on gojo?”
he shakes his head and mumbles incoherently, laying back down on his desk. shoko has to force herself to not roll her eyes and she clenches her teeth together.
“you think this is gonna help you?”
she picks up the nearly empty bottle of alcohol and smashes it on the ground.
“you’re fucking pathetic,” she spits, “get yourself up. you’re not… you’re not going to turn out like him no matter what. you’re gonna man up and fix whatever has caused this.”
satoru stares in drunken shock at the smashed bottle. he sighs.
“i can’t… i can’t fix it,” he mutters, “messed it up to bad.”
shoko sighs again.
“did something happen with, y/n?”
he sniffles at the sound of their name coming from shoko’s mouth and gulps.
”i had to protect them,” he whispers, staring emptily at the ground, “i’m dangerous. being around me is dangerous.”
shoko doesn’t know what to say, she watches him as he watches her.
“… you’ve never been the smartest, have you, satoru?”
he scoffs and swings his arm up wildly.
“you’re so mean to me,” he pouts, the momentum from his arm causes him to slide and stumble out of the chair and onto the floor. he groans and flops defeatedly around.
“you’re a mess. stay right here and try not to hurt yourself please.”
— —
satoru doesn’t know when he blacks out or how long he’s been asleep before he hears muffled voices outside the door. his head is pounding but he feels sober enough… unfortunately.
“i don’t know shoko… after what he did…”
“at the very least talk to him, it may give closure for both of you if nothing else.”
there’s silence. then the wooden door creaks open and he winces, flinching away from the light. your blurry form comes into vision. god you’re just as beautiful as the day he left.
“satoru,” you say.
your voice is like honey to his ear, so sweet and soothing. he lifts his head, his blue eyes shining. it’s been weeks but it’s felt like years. your hand comes done to touch his cheek and he shivers, his eyes almost rolling back at the feeling of your skin on his again.
“what’s going on?”
“i miss you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your palm. you instinctively stroke your thumb along his cheek bone.
“you cheated on me. you… you left me.”
he shakes his head.
“no.”
you raise an eyebrow and cup his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.
“what do you mean, no?”
“i could never cheat on you.”
the way he says never almost makes you swallow hard.
“you told me you did.”
”i… lied,” he admits, shame in his voice. you freeze.
“you what?”
he groans and pulls away from you, finally sitting up fully and facing you properly. he wants you in his arms so badly.
“i lied,” he sighs, “i thought it would be better… I thought i was protecting us both.”
he feels the sting of your slap before he can fully process what happened.
“that’s for fake cheating on me.”
he gapes at you, hand coming to his cheek.
“you hit me?!”
“you deserved it.”
“… you’re right.”
you sigh one last time before leaning in and kissing him. you still taste just like strawberries and mint, he thinks.
“and that is because i’m stupid enough to still love you after all this.”
4K notes · View notes
blondie-drawings · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
working on some silly tlt memes for my friend's bday and I liked how this one came out 🥲
17K notes · View notes
cirrocula · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
testing new brushes
3K notes · View notes
misteria247 · 2 months ago
Text
I'm realizing that Stan is actually incredibly smart. Like in a Ford kind of way to some extent.
Like yes Stan's street smart and life smart but he's also got the smarts that Ford's praised for. Because he had rebuilt the portal and figured out his brother's notes and equations.
Like do you know how hard math is on Ford and Fiddleford's level of expertise??? How complicated and delicate it is????? Especially the kind that brings portals to life???? And Stan figured it out. Had taught himself to read and comprehend these difficult things. Difficult things that requires college degrees in science and mathematics.
And Stan did this on an incomplete high school grade level of academics.
That's fucking nuts. Sure it took 30 years but he learned it. By himself, can you imagine how frustrated he got, teaching himself Ford's educational level??? Using his mechanical skills of fixing his car to be up to par to Fiddleford's impressive craftsmanship????
And I can just see how Ford and Fiddleford react post apocalypse. Ford doing equations and science stuff and talking while Fiddleford listens and gives his input when Stan pipes up unintentionally and puts his hat into the ring. And it's mathematically sound?? And these two men are just blown away cuz what the actual hell?? Ford's immediately questioning Stan, wanting to hear his thoughts while Fiddleford watches impressed and Stan's mortified and a bit overwhelmed. Or Fiddleford working on something and Ford's watching him when Stan points out a better way to make a part work and Fidds is like omg thank you Stanley??? And Ford's looking at his little brother dumbfounded and itching to bomb him with questions and whatnot.
Stan never knows peace afterwards.
2K notes · View notes
crystallizsch · 1 month ago
Text
yknow that one meme
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
lollitree · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Can't stop thinking about that burger from the leaks
Based on this:
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
cuterrguy · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
is this funny i think it’s funny
art/au by @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11
5K notes · View notes
koipepo · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
That omake of little Kabru not being able to show off his howetown sweets because of Misril gets to me a lot so...
Here's a happier Kabru (and Lairu)
3K notes · View notes
raycatzdraws · 11 months ago
Note
LU WIND BUT HE'S A ITTY BITTY HUMMINGBIRD
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Slingshot Proficiency!
+bonus doodle drafts
Tumblr media Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
tarteggs · 3 months ago
Text
conversations had moments before disaster
821 notes · View notes
deusfoundry · 13 days ago
Text
18+ only mdni pls thank u :D also its my first time writing smut/something this explicit so please be kind 😭
kissing sylus is always such a dizzying experience, one that you can swear drives you to borderline insanity.
you usually catch him in one of two moods.
one, is when he likes to take things slow.
it's a few hours past midnight, hours past the time you should've went to bed if you wanted to get up early for work tomorrow. but you don't mind. really, every single bone in your body is screaming at you to stay where you are, perched right on sylus' lap.
your legs settle on either side of his thighs. they’re beginning to feel like jelly, nearly numb from being in the same position for so long. both of your hands are on his shoulders. your fingers dig into the fabric of his sweatshirt. an attempt, but ultimately a feeble one to ground yourself.
likewise, sylus' hands are glued to your thighs. his palms glide over the bare flesh, fingertips brushing against the hem of your shorts. beneath the thin fabric, he draws circles with his thumb, each drag of his rough pads on your skin brings him closer to the lace of your underwear.
he’s got no sense of urgency as he pulls away, lips lingering just a hair away from yours before leaning his head to give your neck the same amount of attention. you turn your head to the side for his convenience, and he gladly takes it as an invitation to smother the entire length of your neck.
sylus works diligently, lips moving in an almost snail-like pace as if to say that you've got all the time in the world. he doesn't move to another patch of skin until he's sure there are marks in the greater vicinity of each area he covers.
his lips travel down to your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in his wake. he takes the thin strap of your camisole between his fingers, toying with the fabric enough that it slips off. his teeth sink into your skin.
your breath hitches when that delightful mix of pain and pleasure hits your senses.
it's almost too much, the way he's taking his sweet time with you. how he pours the same amount of utmost care and attention over each inch of skin he comes across, until you somehow find yourself resting on your back at the couch.
the flimsy fabric of your camisole rides up. you find it harder and harder to breathe as he runs a hand over your bare stomach. sylus plants his lips right above the garter of your shorts. 
he tugs at the garter while he holds your gaze, an unspoken way of asking for your consent. your nod is accompanied by a quiet hum that he takes as his cue to pull your shorts all the way down, tossing the garment carelessly over his shoulder.
you're left in your camisole and underwear. it's far less skin than you've shown sylus before, who's seen and memorized every little nook and cranny of your body, but you still feel the urge to squirm. to shy away from his touch and to hide from his eyes that nearly burns holes into your skin from the intensity of his stare.
but he doesn't give you the chance to do either when his hand flies to your inner thigh, slightly spreading your limbs apart.
“don't go hiding on me now, sweetie.” his lips replace the hand on your thigh. the teeth that digs into your skin makes you whimper. “relax, we've got all night.”
other times, he's overtaken by the carnal need to devour you whole. 
he's got you pinned down on the mattress. the cool silk beneath a stark contrast to your flushed, heated skin. it serves as a reminder of how sylus can get you all hot and bothered with little effort.
you two have been going at it for what feels like hours, but it's barely been ten minutes since he dragged you from his office by the waist, the cookies you baked for him sitting long forgotten on his desk.
sylus pulls away, just enough to have you rising from the bed as your parted lips chase after him on instinct. he can feel the ghost of your lashes as your half lidded eyes flutter open. 
you pout. sylus struggles to hold down the chuckle blooming from his chest. 
"stop being mean.” 
"i don't know what you're talking about, sweetie." sylus acts innocent, but he's got a shit-eating grin on his face that lets you know he's messing with you. "am i not allowed to breathe?"
he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. like he's never pushed you to the boundaries of how long a human being can last without oxygen. like he doesn't place a firm hand on the back of your head to keep you from catching your breath.
sylus full-on laughs when you turn away from him, shifting your body as much as his tight grip on your wrists will allow so that you're angled away from him.
cute. he thinks. did you really think he can be denied that easily?
sylus releases his hold on one of your wrists. his now free hand finds your chin, fingers lingering above skin for a moment before he uses just enough force to turn your head towards him.
you gasp. the tiny sound you make that's barely louder than a whisper travels straight down.
for half a second, you lock eyes. but you're determined to keep up this little charade despite the hand on your chin, eyes darting to look at anything but him.
“kitten,” he feels the way you squirm beneath, can almost feel the shiver running down your spine. “look at me.”
with little hesitation, you will yourself to face him. and when your eyes find his, sylus wastes no time in capturing your lips between his own.
it's awfully pathetic, you think, the way you gasp for the second time in less than a minute. but you don't think you can pin the blame on yourself entirely when it's sylus.
sylus, who's rapidly starting to fill your senses, consuming you wholly. he's in each breath of air you take through your nose, a mix of leather and cedarwood fogging your mind. he's all you can ever think of tasting as his tongue works wonders inside your mouth.
hell, he's even in the back of your eyelids. a picture forever burned in your mind, a memory carved so deeply into your soul.
he slots himself between your legs, dragging one of his thighs up the sheets until it meets with your core.
sylus swallows each sound you make, from the quietest whimpers to the most shameless of moans, as he grinds his thigh against you. the muscle presses into you with pressure that's enough to drive you crazy, but not enough to send you careening over the edge.
 he knows this. of course he does. he notices it in the shortening of your breath, chest heaving and contracting deeply. in the frantic way in which your fingers travel across the large expanse of his back. in your soaked pajama shorts that's slowly seeping through the fabric of his pants.
“what's the matter?” and he'd be happy to give you more, to give you that push you need to reach blissful release. “tell me, sweetie, what do you want?”
only if you ask nicely.
“sy-” you manage between baited breaths. “please, i- i need more.”
“i’m not sure i get what you mean. care to help a poor man out?” his pace relents, leaning forward in a mock curiosity. satisfaction courses through his veins when he hears you whine.
his pants are starting to strain uncomfortably, the last bits of his restrain wearing thin. he wants you, as much as—no, a lot more than you want him. but he wants to make sure you get your fill first.
it's you above everything, after all.
“sylus, i need you-”
“you have me.” sylus presses against your clothed clit. “or is this not enough for you?”
you shake your head, desperate for release. “need you inside, please.”
“well,” he smirks, reaching down to move your underwear to the side before sliding right into your hole. the gasp that falls off your swollen lips is music to his ears as he starts rapidly thrusting two of his fingers in and out. “since the kitten asked so nicely, who am i to deny her request?”
927 notes · View notes