#you’d be HORRIFIED

[redhotarsenic]

I know this is not really Anything but I finally managed to wash and comb my hair after god knows how long

[justsouth0fknowingwhy]

just south of knowing why tv isn’t a want for me just so you all know. it’s a need

[i-just-really-like-renga]

*clenching teeth* so funny how Tadashi was so Worried about a possible Scandal that he took an unconscious teenager into a love hotel and tried to pay him off. Like, sir what the Fuck are you on about? Where were you when Reki literally had his arm broken and got hospitalized by your beloved boss? Where was the scandal prevention then? Were you off that day? I don’t know you. I don’t trust you. I don’t believe a word you say. Speak slowly and clearly into the microphone if you touched one hair on that boys head I will have you EVISCERATED-

[real-total-drama-takes]

"i would make ___ content but i cant draw or write"

you have a keyboard to write this out on and a notes app. write fanfiction no matter how bad you are!!!!!! thats how you get better!!!

And draw. If you’ve got a pencil and paper, you can draw content for your favorite ship. We all start somewhere! And if you draw heathney content, no matter how “beginner” you are, i will love it

[packedandstrapped]

There seems to be a lot of folks longing to be railed by two or more butches. Like I’ve had three conversations this week about the same thing.

Surely we could crowdsource a solution, right? Should I buy the butchspitroast.me domain?

I do have other suggestions:

butchspitroasted.us

sucksstraplikea.pro

railedbybutches.win

butchbang.fr

butchesinsideof.me

In all seriousness this butch/masc love on social media blows my mind. Like ten years ago my friends weren’t cool with me using the word “butch” let alone talking about wanting to get railed by bunches of us. A truly wild time.

[milimeters-morales]

i’m getting so many pro-israel propaganda commercials on my TV back to back and NONE of the coverage about what’s happening to Palestinians and not even the happier moments you’d think they’d try to twist as “Look at HAMAS forcing these HORRIBLE PALESTINIANS to say thank you after INNOCENT ISRAEL HOSTAGES were rescued by israeli troops” or “these kids are smiling and laughing it’s not that bad and all the photos you see of kids torn apart by rubble and missiles are fake”, they’re even using stuff the white house has literally walked back (but because Joe Biden keeps repeating it, that shit basically doesn’t matter to these people) and i’m not surprised in the slightest but damn the difference in what i’d see vs what my parents and grandparents would see is staggering. And the few family members that show me videos of children, covered in wounds and dirt and blood, saying “the jews did this to me” as a sort of “gotcha” on why supporting Palestine is antisemitic honestly blow my mind because you’re really going to focus on how a 6 year old, who lost so much in so little time, is using certain terms? You’re going to police this literal baby’s choice of words when they could die within the hour? You’re not going to focus on the adults who already think this way and already cause so much harm IN YOUR OWN COUNTRY??? You’d rather use a child’s possible last words as evidence that all Palestinians hate Jewish people and should be massacred??? You have NOTHING better to be doing??? Do you seriously only care about Jewish people when you can use them to further mass genocides???

[cliverosfieldslefttiddy]

Baldur’s Gate 3 will have you replaying its 100+ hour story because you just learned on Reddit that you can talk to Glup Shitto from Act 1 somewhere in the sewers in Act 3 but only if you made certain decisions or you can cast Speak With Dead on a certain character’s bed

[mumblesplash]

which trigun show would you say someone should start on?

depends on what you like i think? if you care a lot about visuals and can easily connect to characters without needing to feel like you Know What’s Going On you’ll probably like stampede, if you care more about plot and like. a more tangible-feeling sense of story and worldbuilding it’s probably best to start with the original

[something-of-a-hermit]

Ok I may have quit Venture Crew almost 3 years ago but I need to settle an argument

Reblog for bigger sample size please and thank you

[thentherewasfury]

My grandfather died three years ago today (on my brother’s birthday lol) which set off a clusterfuck six months that included me finishing law school/taking the bar, dumping my boyfriend, putting my horse down, buying a second horse, and starting my first Real Lawyer™️ job.

It’s been a hell of a wild three years.

Anyway, happy death anniversary to the man who taught me by example how to be a stubborn fucking bastard; I miss your loud-ass opinions on good food and don’t miss your loud-ass opinions on politics, but I’m glad you’re not in pain anymore.

[weedlovingweed]

i wish i had a block post function on mobile like xkit give me for the computer. i’m trying to hard not to unfollow everyone on earth but i get soooo pissed off

[pussymasterdooku]

[continues to utilize a tag-only approach to personal posts because that’s the way my brain is wired i guess]

[nick-close]

My brain is thinking wow this episode is so fun and amazing and I love all these aspects of it!’ And then my heart goes BUNNYGIRL HERO I AM CATERED TO!!! I AM CATERED TO!!!!

[lewmagoo]

this is how i look planning out this reverend floyd series

[onehundredelevven]

Toji w/ preggy wife + out-of-this-world cravings

Toji stared at the counter. The ingredients you demanded sat before him like a challenge issued by the gods: instant ramen, whipped cream, peanut butter, and pickles. A lineup so vile it could send even the most daring chef into an existential crisis.

"Are you serious about this, or am I just getting pranked?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You sat on the couch, legs crossed, a pillow pressed against your baby bump as you gave him the most innocent look in return. "Dead serious."

"You want ramen topped with this… stuff? And you're gonna eat it."

"Yup."

Toji groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, you had to pick this moment in your pregnancy to throw curveballs at him. The man was many things—an ex-hitman, a gambler, a loving yet blunt husband—but a gourmet chef? Not so much.

Still, he got to work. He boiled water, ripped open the ramen packet, and eyed the whipped cream like it might explode if he got too close. The sound of the kettle whistling filled the silence, but your voice broke through soon after.

“Don’t forget to add peanut butter! Like a lottt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, spooning a glob of it into the pot and stirring like his life depended on it. The smell was… not great. Toji’s nose wrinkled in pure, unfiltered disgust. “You sure this ain’t gonna poison the kid?”

“It’s what the kid wants, Toji. I’m just the messenger,” you quipped.

When it was finally done—complete with pickles carefully arranged on top—Toji approached you with the steaming bowl in hand. He hesitated, watching your excited expression as you reached for it.

“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna eat this. You’re insane,” he muttered, plopping down beside you on the couch.

“Hey, you married me,” you shot back, grabbing the bowl and digging in with absolutely no hesitation.

Toji watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified, as you slurped up the ramen, the whipped cream melting into the broth in a way that should’ve been illegal. He leaned back, arms crossed, still trying to wrap his head around the scene.

“This is actually amazing,” you said between bites, offering him the spoon. “Wanna try?”

He recoiled immediately, glaring at you like you’d suggested he jump off a cliff. “Not in a million years, woman.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t knock it ‘til you try it!”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it.”

Despite his grumbling, he stayed by your side, handing you napkins, fetching water when you needed it, and even cleaning up after you finished. Disgusted or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let you handle it yourself.

Later that night, as you snuggled into him in bed, you mumbled, “Thanks for putting up with me. And the weird cravings.”

Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “Tch. Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask me to eat that crap.”

But even as he complained, you knew he’d do it all over again if it made you and the baby happy.

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ playing dangerous ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ player 177. your assigned number. the three digits stitched in stark white thread on the coarse forest-green tracksuit now clinging to your body. you didn’t remember putting it on. you didn’t remember anything between falling asleep in your cramped apartment and waking up in this sterile, alabaster void. the tracksuit was loose in some places, tight in others, the fabric rough against your skin, a similar sensation for the discomfort that had settled deep into your bones.

˚ ༘♡ the air here was heavy, oppressive. tension hung over the room like a storm cloud, pressing down on everyone in its path. you sat on the thin mattress of your cot, the iron bars of the bedframe biting into your back as you leaned against them. your throat was dry, your lips chapped, and a faint crust of dried blood clung to the edge of your mouth, an unpleasant reminder of the chaos you’d barely survived. in your lap rested a cold metal bento box, unopened. the thought of eating its contents of rubbery eggs and starchy rice, made your stomach churn. it wasn’t hunger gnawing at you but dread. eating felt like acknowledging the possibility of another day here, in this place where death lingered so close you could almost taste it.

˚ ༘♡ death. it wasn’t something you’d ever had to think about seriously before. you were young, healthy enough, aside from the occasional winter flu. life’s struggles had been mundane, bills, work, nothing quite noteworthy. you’d thought financial trouble was the worst of your problems. how naive that seemed now. the sharp crack of gunfire still rang in your ears, and the memory of bodies crumpling mid-run played in an endless loop in your mind. every scream, every desperate gasp for air as life left someone’s body, was etched into your mind.

˚ ༘♡ this wasn’t life. it was survival, twisted into something grotesque. children’s games weaponized against desperate people for the amusement of others, with the promise of money as bait. one hundred million won for every life taken. your own life, reduced to a figure on a balance sheet. you’d survived the first game, the horrifying version of red light, green light, but at what cost? surely, after witnessing such carnage, the others would have voted to leave. you’d been certain of it. but the desperation was stronger. greed was stronger. most players had chosen to stay, ignoring the horrors of what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ “the next game,” player 456 had said, “will be cutting shapes out of dalgona candy. pick the triangle. it’s the easiest.” his voice had carried a strange conviction, and he claimed to know these games intimately, even to have won before. but how could you trust him? maybe he was lying, or maybe it didn’t matter. maybe none of you were meant to leave this place alive.

˚ ༘♡ “hey, 177!” the crude voice shattered your thoughts, dragging you back to the present.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced up to see player 230, “thanos,” as he called himself, sauntering toward you. his garish purple hair stood out like a bruise against the sterile backdrop, and his brightly colored nails flashed as he gestured. he’d painted them to match the infinity stones, leaning fully into the nickname he’d given himself. behind him, player 124 followed, all sharp angles and slicked-back hair, his grin as eager and sly as ever.

˚ ༘♡ “why didn’t you vote for one more game, huh?” thanos sneered, his voice laced with mockery. “you had no problem playing foul last round.”

˚ ༘♡ you frowned, rising slowly to your feet. “you and i both know it was an accident,” you replied steadily. “everyone was running for their lives. i didn’t block your way on purpose. we both finished in time, didn’t we? no harm done.”

˚ ༘♡ he rolled his eyes, his expression exaggerated and spontaneous. “yeah, sure, whatever. typical cold-hearted bitch behavior.”

˚ ༘♡ player 124 cackled at the insult, his laughter harsh and grating. “that’s right. cold, stuck-up bitch,” he echoed, his voice dripping with scorn.

˚ ༘♡ their taunts were designed to provoke you, but you refused to give them the satisfaction. your hands curled into fists, but you forced yourself to relax them, forced yourself to breathe. these two thrived on conflict, and the best thing you could do was walk away. you turned on your heel, ignoring their shouts, and started to move toward the far corner of the room.

˚ ༘♡ “hey! i’m talking to you!” thanos barked, stumbling after you with heavy, uncoordinated steps. he didn’t get far. player 001 stepped into his path, his expression stoic and unyielding.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t you boys have any respect?” player 001 asked, his voice quiet but firm. there was something about him, an emanation of authority that made everyone within earshot pause.

˚ ༘♡ thanos bristled, his arrogance faltering for just a moment. “mind your own damn business, old man,” he snapped, jerking forward.

˚ ༘♡ player 001 didn’t flinch. when thanos lunged at him, the older man moved with startling precision, sidestepping the punch with ease. he grabbed thanos by the wrist mid-swing and twisted sharply, forcing a guttural yelp from the younger man as his knees buckled. with a swift motion, player 001 yanked him forward and drove an elbow into his chest, the dull, cracking impact echoing in the room. thanos collapsed onto the floor, clutching his ribs and coughing violently.

˚ ༘♡ player 124 scrambled forward, his face twisted in fury. “bastard!” he yelled, charging with reckless abandon. player 001 turned just in time, catching the younger man by the collar and using his momentum against him. a sharp twist and a well-placed shove sent player 124 sprawling into the edge of a nearby cot, the metal frame rattling as he hit it with a thud.

˚ ༘♡ the fight wasn’t over. thanos struggled to his feet, his face contorted in pain and rage. “you’re gonna regret that, old man,” he spat, lunging again. this time, player 001’s response was more deliberate. he ducked under thanos’s wild swing, stepped inside his reach, and delivered a devastating blow to his lower torso. the younger man doubled over, gasping, before player 001 swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor once more.

˚ ༘♡ not finished, player 124 staggered up again, charging at player 001 with fists raised. the older man sidestepped and grabbed player 124 by the arm, wrenching it behind his back and forcing him to the ground with a hoarse cry of pain. he planted a knee firmly against player 124’s spine, holding him there as the younger man squirmed and cursed.

˚ ༘♡ thanos, blood now trickling from his nose, crawled toward his friend, wheezing apologies and swearing obscenities all at once. player 001 released player 124 with a shove, stepping back as the two younger men lay crumpled together on the floor.

˚ ༘♡ the room was silent, every player watching in stunned awe. then, slowly, the silence broke into cheers and clapping. player 001 straightened his posture, his expression as calm and inscrutable as ever. without a word, he turned and walked back to where player 456 and a few others were gathered, leaving the two troublemakers to nurse their wounds.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, then followed him. when you reached his side, you spoke softly. “i wanted to thank you, sir. if you hadn’t stepped in, they wouldn’t have stopped harassing me and disturbing the peace. you’ve done us all a favor.”

˚ ༘♡ player 001 turned to look at you, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded. he said nothing, his expression unreadable. there was something deeply weary about him, a weight that seemed to press down on his shoulders. his posture was rigid, his face lined with exhaustion, and though he was relatively handsome, it was the kind of masculine appeal eroded by time and hardship.

˚ ༘♡ you wondered what had brought him here, what had led him to the point where he’d chosen, or been pushed into, to enter this place. you didn’t ask. prying into his past would be an impolite gesture and an indignity for what he had done for you.

a/n: my first squid game fanfiction! i definitely want to write more for hwang in-ho in the future so let me know if you have any requests! 🤍