#yeahhhh man

[catintheouternet]

CLOAK OF THE DAMNED

alt + closeup under the cut

(sum slaughter horse 2 love for spooky season. PLEASE DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW THIS GAME EVEN EXISTS.)

alt

close-ups

[alleesaur]

yoru doodle

[ovaryacted]

Me writing for DI! Leon means I get to make him as hairy as I fucking want because I absolutely, positively, 200% believe that he has a nice happy trail and leg hair.

The manly hair testosterone hormones didn’t really kick in for Leon until he was 29 cause of stress and trauma, so when he could finally grow out that stubble it never left his face. But DI! Leon is a whole different ballgame. He’s not hairy like a werewolf (that’s more Carlos for sure), but he definitely has more body hair in that era cause he just kinda stopped focusing on it as time goes by.

You’d just like to watch him trim the stubble or shape it up, maybe even shave it off and let it grow back a bit. But you constantly tell him to keep it, that you like the way it feels when he kisses you or when he nuzzles into your neck. You enjoy the sensation of having his cheeks rubbing against your inner thighs as he eats you out, grabbing on to his head and pulling him in closer. Sometimes you’ll squeeze your legs around his head on purpose so you can feel the friction of the prickly hairs on his jaw scratching at your skin, only heightening the sensations for you.

Imagine riding him on his thick thighs and he has leg hair, feeling it against your skin every time your hips came back down on to his body. Think about the fact that he has a happy trail and trims his pubes a bit but doesn’t fully remove it CAUSE HES GROWN! So whenever you suck his dick so messy in the way he likes, the spit just spills all over and builds into a small puddle at the base of his pelvis. His favorite thing to do is watch you slurp it back up, how your nose nuzzles into his skin whenever you deep throat him. Don’t even mention the way he moans when you put his balls in your mouth, slurping on them like no tomorrow.

But the best part of it all? He loves it when he gets the white ring surrounding his cock when he fucks you. He wants to see the way you clench and cum around him, how your fluids stain his skin and pelvis, like your own personal way of marking him. He wants to smell like you, hell even taste like you. Probably enjoys putting you in a chokehold so you can feel his bicep curling around your neck, having your hands grab at his forearm and caressing the hair on his skin. If he’s not able to still feel the remnants of your release on his top lip, he’ll make sure it sticks elsewhere.

Petition to make him more hairy? Everyone raise your hands. I SAID FUCKING RAISE THEM! I KNOW Y’ALL ARE OUT THERE! Don’t be shy this is a safe space.

[chocochipjewel]

I was trying to look up how long Venom 3 is and-

Help- what is Bully Maguire doing there 😭😭😭😭

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

after reading the ending and seeing the meltdown on twitter over the mistranslation before the official chapter it's just kind of annoyed me how people view gojo as some perpetually insecure, self deprecating dude when he was never that.

Ofc geto's defection fucked him over and that loss of a valuable bond was the guiding force behind a lot of choices he made in life but he was always, always fond of jujutsu itself, it's the orthodox structure and lone burden on his shoulders he disliked.

Even nanami clocked him for that in 236. That he enjoyed the thrill of sorcery. I hate satoru's uwufication (and don't get me wrong he's very much my cutie patootie) but to view his complexities as just insecurities is such a narrow view.

It's also why it didn't really surprise me when he "went south" in 236. So many people called his confession in that chapter ooc but in my opinion that raw vulnerability was so intriguing and on brand for him lol. Loving the fight, not being able to hate sukuna, trying to reach him through his skills, admitting the distance he created with others because the gap was just that big, and choosing to stay in the blue spring this time because that period was the most blissful time of his life..it's the first time he chose himself and chose life as Satoru and not just as the strongest.

And to see this same effect happen during the leak mistranslation with so many gojo stans babying him again and it was so..like bro 😭 are we sure we read the same content

THIS . THIS . THIIIIIIIS

anon thank you for putting this into words bc i have been struggling to do the same 💀 but i absolutely agree!!! i also have a big issue with people viewing him as insecure or sad because i truly think gojo was fully comfortable in his own isolation . he’s never pitied himself, and that makes him more tragic, not less. the mistranslation thing in 271 with ’i also have love and dreams’ just made me sigh because that’s just something gojo wouldn’t say 😭…. obviously he has dreams and he has love but he’d never frame that sentence in such a self-pitying way — he’s only telling yuji to carry on his dream if he dies. that’s all.

i can’t explain it super well but to me the greatest tragedy of gojo’s character is that he so rarely gets upset over his own situation — he’s been used and abused in plenty of ways but i don’t think he actually minds, because that’s all he knows. he’s staggeringly mature and resigned and that’s an aspect of his character i think isn’t talked about enough. he even finds joy in his own situation, through fighting and teaching, despite how much weight he has to carry. how overworked he is. ’one must imagine sisyphus happy’ applies really well to gojo, i think…….

and that’s why a lot of fandom takes just . irk me 😭 the truth is that gojo probably wouldn’t mind having his body used after death. and like he himself says in 271 — he doesn’t mind if people forget him. that’s just the kind of guy he is. he’s tragic in the sense that he goes with the flow and accepts the reality of his own existence without wishing for anything different. i think he did have hope that he wouldn’t have to be alone when he was with suguru, but after his defection that hope disappeared. suguru’s importance to satoru is one thing i don’t think anyone can ignore, but i don’t think he turned into some kind of empty shell after he left, either — suguru was simply the end of satoru seeking out meaningful, equal human connection.

…… until sukuna :3c

which!!! for the record!!!!!! i 100% agree with you on. 236 is one of my favorite chapters and i will literally fight the ooc allegations until the day i die bc i don’t think they understand gojo 💀 sorry to say. him finding value in fighting someone like sukuna makes all the sense in the world considering he’s the closest thing satoru has gotten to being on truly equal grounds with someone. and the fact that satoru wanted to teach sukuna about love speaks volumes about his character, how much he detests the isolation of strength. satoru isn’t a saint, but he’s a good guy with very particular motivations. and him finding peace in the bliss of his youth, right after being referred to as ’satoru gojo’ by sukuna …….. must have felt soooo liberating. criticisms about the aftermath of his death aside, i do think this was the happiest ending for someone like gojo.

i will say that nanami’s comment in 236 is often misunderstood as well — he’s specifically talking about teen gojo, not adult gojo. adult gojo fights for plenty of things, not just the thrill — but obviously he still enjoys that even now. i think a lot of people make the mistake of either viewing gojo as some morally corrupt fight loving feral maniac (which is just plain wrong), or viewing him as this sad, sad man who never wanted to fight (which is also plain wrong)…. he’s a deeply tragic character with a lot of kindness in his heart, and even at the very end i don’t think he was truly sad over his own circumstances.

i hope . that was semi-coherent ;;; sorry for just hijacking your ask anon but this was a good opportunity for me to talk about some things that have been bugging me for a while 😭 gojo is a wonderfully written character and i don’t think he was ooc even in 271 (though the talk with yuji felt sloppy to me in execution), i just wish his death had been handled as well as it deserved to be ….

[dilfdemolisher]

I love when Hugh cosplayed as Caspers saggy ballsack🤍

[batssybaby]

so i’m pretty new to batjokes/the dc fandom (as in the past seven days new) but in every fic i’ve read, the joker has felt… so familiar to me. like i’ve known him as a character for years. and it’s been so easy for me to get into his headspace and write his voice and so this entire past week i’ve been like ? what is going ON is this like a weird soulmate character thing?? is the joker my one true fictional dude?? i mean i’m cool with it he’s funky but wtf ?? but i just realized. it’s. he’s rumplestiltskin once upon a time.

[skitskatdacat63]

His bullfighting days aren't over quite yet.

+

[puppybot]

BEGS YOU to draw sam and Sebastian being gay. please please please i need to see what you cook up with them. only if you want to though. sorry 😔

shaneydays: 1 willow lane , pelican town

[sticcmann]

THE WAY I SCREAMMEEDDDDDD WHEN SINGED GOT HIS DAUGHTER BACK I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS!! HOW DID HE DO IT

I’m hundred percent sure it was Viktor shenanigans she’s too white and the gold metal streaks on her skin

[triglycercule]

idea. since askdusttale answered an ask about where dust got his determination from (because dust has SOME determination just so he can remember the timelines and keep going against the human) and said it was totally up to personal interpretation on how he got his determination. so so so like what if what if dusttale's player did something similar to something new's player and changed dust's code to give him determination??? so dust and killer COULD BOTH had their codes tampered with??? the parallels would be INSANE. they both started off as sans and got their codes tampered with by the player but dust and killer went on two opposite paths. dust out of his own voalition decided to go against the human but killer had to team up with the human no choice at all. the opposite parallels go CRAZY oh god im tweaking

killer doesn't know exactly (since i forgot whether or not he can see codes or something like that. i swear there was an image of him describing fell and swap's code and then his own) but he can SENSE that something's off. something's different about dust that he doesn't quite know about. maybe it gets him to ask a bunch of questions that dust is definitely not open to answering because jesus man mind your own damn business but the question that really sets killer off is the way dust answers when he asks "so if you have determination then how did you get it?" and dust just shrugs his shoulders and said that one day he suddenly remembered the resets and then that's when he got it (and then goes back to mumbling to phantom paps or wtvr) and killer's just like. zomg. a sudden change in behavior or mentality that seemingly has no apparent reason related to the human???? like like like when he suddenly had to agree with the player despite literally never wanting to????? killer is over thinking the implications behind this

meanwhile dust is just annoyed now because killer keeps on following him. he keeps asking him strange questions. wtf why is the guy asking to see his SOUL that's incredibly personal???? he just wants to be left alone man he has no idea what's going on

[ratatatastic]

you can tell who were the men who had to sell worlds finest chocolates to raise money for their end of year school trip and who has no idea that north american schools do that because why would you enlist child labour to sell things

[qtubbo]

you can tell who watches tubbo and who doesn’t by if they took his comments about bad and aypierre earlier seriously. Like look at me and tell me that tubbo was being completely serious when he said he knows more bout the game then bad and pierre combined, the man likes to be dramatic in the just chatting sections because its good content. Hes being a bit silly, a bit goofy even.

[cream-and-tea]

PARRISH OF TIDE AND FLESH RELIGIOUS SCHISM!!!!!

[blurrymango]

Below the cut is. Some shit I just wrote.

You're eight years old and your twin just went into a coma. Their eyes are covered with bandages. Your parents keep them back home, in your room. Safe in their bed, right across from yours. Sometimes, it's easy to pretend they're just sleeping. That they'll wake up soon and things will go back to normal. But as time moves on, they don't wake up. You haven't spoken a word since the incident. Your parents don't notice it, or maybe they do, and they just don't care. It's quiet now. They can't speak. You won't either.

Your peers at school never liked either of you. Said you both weird, creepy. They notice your twin's absence. For some reason, they hate you even more. You get home, you go to your room, you ignore the body on the bed. You don't want to be in the same space as it. But you miss your sibling, and you don't want to be out in the house with your parents. Their hair grows out, you brush it, make sure it doesn't get tangled. You let your own hair grow too.

Sometimes, at night, you think you hear them speaking to you. You can't make out the words, you can't remember their voice. But you can hear them. You can't remember your own voice, either. Did the two of you sound the same? You know they used to talk a lot, you miss their voice. It's... been getting harder to recognize the body sharing your room as your sibling. It has your face, but not really. It's more like. A doll.

Sometimes, your parents catch you sleeping in the thing's bed. They tell you that you shouldn't disturb your sibling. It isn't your sibling, they were lively, bright, they had blue eyes and they liked to step on bugs. This thing in your room is a husk. It's barely alive. But it's warm. And you miss cuddling with your twin. You never hurt the thing. You're gentle with it. Careful not to disturb the tubes and wiring and whatever. You want to hurt it though, sometimes. It's frail, and pale, and lifeless. You wouldn't dare leave a single mark on its skin though. Your parents would have your head over it.

They make you get a haircut. It sucks. You cut the body's hair that night. You leave it longer than your own, though. Because it's more fun to play with if it's not short. Besides, their hair is better when it's longer than your own. You're going to be starting middle school soon. You want to tell it that. But you don't. You've forgotten how to speak, for one, and besides, talking to it would disturb the peace. You wouldn't speak to an inanimate object, you'd seem crazy. You probably are crazy though, because you can still hear it speaking to you at night. The words are louder but no less intelligible. It sounds like it's in pain. You are too.

Somehow, you make a friend at school. She has blue eyes. She likes to talk. She talks a lot, talks enough for the both of you. It's annoying. You draw things for her. You've punched a couple of bullies for her. But you don't let her touch you, it would be wrong, if you went home with someone else on your skin, you think. It might disturb the thing in the bed if there was residue of someone else. You've started taking care of the thing more often than your parents do, they think you're just being a good sibling, you just don't want them to touch what's yours.

Your friend goes home with you one day. Introduces herself to your parents. Funny, you don't remember if she ever told you her name, and you don't pay attention when she tells it to your parents either. They tease you about having a girlfriend. You feel angry at that. They think you're just flustered. She laughs, tells them you're just friends. The two of you hang out in the backyard, you're not ready to introduce her to. Your... twin. Yet. You almost don't even want her to look at them. She doesn't deserve to see them, delicate and monstrous. She doesn't deserve to go through that, it would scare her.

Somehow, she got a crush on you. You didn't even notice, your mind is stuck in your room with the doll most of the time. She comes over, and asks if the two of you can go to your room. You shut down, unable to stop her from dragging her into the space, you don't even notice her hand gripping your wrist, either. You're with her on your bed, her presence violates the air around you. What if her being here disturbs your twin? She's about to kiss you when her eyes finally glance at the other bed. She screams. She runs out of the house. The residue of her existence is hard to remove, you nearly cry while trying. You hope she didn't frighten the. Body. It's just a body. It can't be frightened. You have to remind yourself.

She doesn't speak to you anymore after that. She avoids you like the plague. You're grateful for it. She wasn't right for you. Her eyes the wrong shade of blue, her hair not dark enough. She won't be ruining yours afternoons and stealing away your attention from what's important. So delicate, and fragile. And warm. But not warm enough. In your mind, the body is still the same age your twin was, but you know that's not true. Time still passes, even though both of you are stagnant.

Puberty comes to the body first, with you waking up to blood all over the two of you. You scream, thinking that you had hurt it in your sleep. You nearly tear your vocal chords from it, even. Your parents rush in, no longer fazed to see you in the thing's bed. In your distress, you're thankful for their intrusion. They explain to you that your twin just got their first period. They say "she'll" be a woman soon, that "she's" growing up. You don't want that. You don't want that. They tell you that you'll be reaching puberty soon as well. That you'll be becoming a young man soon.

It terrifies you. The changes happening your bodies. Your parents give you the talk, and then tell you that you might be getting your own room soon. It's too much. It's too much all at once. You lock yourself in your room for two days. Only leaving the bed to get water from the bathroom connected to your room and to pee. Well, that's not true. You keep up your duties, taking care of the body. Your father finally manages to burst into the room on the third day. You're crying.

That night, you're too hungry to ignore. So you sneak into the kitchen, stop when you hear voices in the living room. Not the normal voices at night, your parents. Your mother is sobbing, your father sounds sad. They're talking about something. They're talking about your twin. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, they talk about the thing all the time. Always sad. Always sorrowful. Like they're mourning. It's sickening. But no. It's different. They're talking about you as well. Saying that this has "gone on long enough" and that they need to get both of you into the hospital. Your twin into a real hospital, you into an asylum. They're worried that you might do something terrible to your twin.

They're right, of course. You do something. But it's not terrible. It's not. It's an act of love. Nothing has felt right until now. Nothing quite as good as thrusting into the body's heat. You wonder why you didn't do this sooner. It feels amazing. Of course, the plan was to take the body and run away, but you feel so tired afterward that all you can do is pull out and lay down. You were gentle, being as inexperienced as you were. They bled, you felt guilty, almost enough to stop all together. But you didn't. You've been so good to this thing, so kind, you figured it's about time it did something for you. And it did. You had your first orgasm. Inside of it. You felt absolutely amazing.

You wake up to pain. And screaming. Your mother crying. Your father is angrier than you've ever seen him. It's terrifying. What the hell is going on? Your brain struggles to catch up. Your father's fist makes contact with your eye, and your remember last night. Right. Incest. You committed an act of incest. Of rape. And now you're being beaten for it. You hear your mother, full of sorrow and rage, screaming at you. "How could you do that to her?! To your own sister!?" It's funny, because that thing isn't your "sister", it isn't even your twin. Hasn't been since it fell asleep and never woke up. It's not even human, in your eyes. It's a thing. Of course, your parents wouldn't see it that way, now would they? They haven't had to spend every night in the same room as it. In the beginning they even scolded you for wanting to sleep somewhere else. They made you live with it and then they never bothered doing anything about your obviously declining mental state. So why are they so surprised? So angry? 5 years of neglecting you and they're shocked when you do something they think is bad? Your final thought before passing out is that this is their fault.

When you wake up next, you're in a sterile unfamiliar room. Your doll nowhere to be seen. A doctor sits beside you, you're afraid and confused and angry. He tells you that you're going to be staying there for a while. That you'll be getting the help you need. You're not paying much attention until he mentions your twin. You're not going to be able to see them, after what you did. You feel as though your heart has been ripped from your chest. You feel like you're dying. It's like your 8 years old all over again and you can't take it. You lash out. You attack the doctor.

The next years are a blur. You're drugged up most of the time. Hardly aware of anything except that your twin isn't around. You don't keep track of time. You don't keep track of anything. Your mind is in shambles. You think you see your parents sometimes. They're always angry at you. You want to crawl out of your skin. You want to die. You still don't speak. You won't speak. The only thing that's clear is at night, it's almost like you're back home because you can hear the thing whispering to you again. Except now, the words are clear. They want you to come find them. They forgive you, not for what you did during your final night together, no, they liked that, they forgive you for putting them in the coma in the first place. Oh. Right. It was your fault, wasn't it. But they forgive you. It's ok. They miss you.

You remember now, how it happened. You remember how you did it, but not why. The two of you had been on a camping trip with your parents. You were both exploring away from the campsite. It was nearing sunset. You had a rock. It was heavy, but small. You remember how easy it was, how satisfying it was for you to plunge it into their eye. Deeper. Deeper until they stopped screaming. They went limp. Both of you were covered in blood. Why did you do that? By the time your parents found you both, they were beyond truly saving. But you didn't know that at the time. You don't know why you did that to your own flesh and blood. The whole time, you were unaware that it was your own fault. You didn't know. You didn't realize. Why why why why why.

When you're to think clearly again, it's been ten years since the incident. You're not at home, you're not in the asylum either. You're in a hospital. It's night. Your twin is in a bed in front of you. How did you get here? You don't remember. You're holding a gun. How did you get that? Everything is mush from that final night you spent with them to now. You're different now, bigger. Taller and stronger and it feels wrong because when you look at them they still look so delicate, so frail. Why did you do it? Why did you ruin their life? You need to fix this. You stumble to them, your mind in a daze. Two bullets. Two bullets and you'll both be out of your misery. Two bullets and you'll be at peace. Shooting them should be agonizing. But it's easy, it's as easy as when you were eight and in the woods. You don't give yourself time to think about what you're doing after you shoot them. You simply aim the gun at yourself and shoot.

When you wake up, you shouldn't be waking up, but you're eight. You're in a hospital bed. Your twin is in a bed across from you. You don't remember anything. But you know that you've missed them. They smile at you like they know something you don't. It looks wrong. They look too pale. The room smells like death, old and rotting and full of dust. But they're smiling at you. And you smile too. They tell you it's been too long, that they've missed you. And you don't know what they're talking about. You finally look into their eyes. Red meeting blue. It feels wrong. Everything feels so very wrong. But you missed them too. And you're happy to be together with them. And they're happy too. All that matters is that you're together, right?

Right?

[soda-sparkss]

trans wallies for my fellow trans folks

in order from left to right lord wally by @kennethmoop, slash\er wally by @mumimoondrops, casino of the vamps wally by @larzuen, and demon lord wally by @doggwwoggy23

Lord wally has his super epic scars, slasher wally has knife shaped scars, casino of the vamps wally has vampire fang shaped scars, and demon lord wally has butcher knife shaped scars

in order from left to right: home bound wally is by me, highschool wally is by @juno-thebitchwhoeatsdrywall70, and zombie wally is by @elliot-maggot

home bound and high school wally have some cool shaped and zombie wally has zombie blood shaped scars mwahahahaha