#BIGGEST FUCK YEAH !!!!!

[bakudekublogblog]

the way katsuki just IS izuku's first love drives me nutty. like he just had a big ole crush on him with his huge-ass heart eyes and he chased him around with maximum puppy-love smitten energy

[minthological]

hello, fwendy-wends!

i bring you my little painting of wiggog y'wrath because i am. not normal about him. haha

sketch + alt pics below the cut <3

the one above is before sealant, these ones are ~30 minutes after sealing! also tilted one a little so you can see the shinies better! highlights my beloved 💚

[seraphdreams]

I'm wondering who of the favs would be a perv and spy on princess from outside of her window, watching her hump a pillow on her pretty pink bed 💕

oh definitely haru :( he’s got a thing for stalking and is a little too good at concealing his presence .. he’s more of the type to break in n listen from outside of the bedroom door, just imagining everything that’s taking place just a few feet away from him, stroking his pretty flushed cock n biting away moans .. in fact, i think he’d get the incentive to come in, make himself known — he’s got enough skill behind him that he could shut you up if he needed- no, if he wanted you to.

adding choso to this too .. for him, it’s unintentional how he has a perfect view into your room from his side. he’s probably doing something mundane like studying or smoking a blunt .. it’s not his fault that you’re whimpering so damn loud even the music he’s playing doesn’t drown you out. so it also shouldn’t be his fault when his cock gets hard n leaky — and what’s he supposed to do? just leave it? absolutely not. he thinks he might die if he doesn’t take care of his little inconvenience, and god, he’s never felt as good .. just imagining something other than his stupid fleshlight wrapped around his cock has a sweet cacophony of groans and whines stringing from his throat.

[doughnutcleric]

honestly it is so funny that s1 mari was so ready to talk shit, after the seance she came out swinging with the “Did dead cabin guy tell you that? Or do you guys just chat about blood and stuff?”

and all lottie had to do was come back w “No, we mostly talk about how Danny Mears dumped you for his own cousin.”

and that is quite literally all it takes for mari to be like "actually I think lottie might be a god?"

[ceruleancattail]

I WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE A BREAK TODAY BUT UNFORTUNATELY CHARLOTTE SANDS AND HER SONG “Spite” HIT ME HARDER THEN I EXPECTED TODAY-

So have my brainrot of Rock Star Vil.

The purple ends of his hair flying around, as Vil picks up the microphone from its stand. Pumping his fist in the air, to an astonishing loud cheer from the crowd. He’s in all black, silver jewellery sparkling on the base of his neck, draping delicately over his collar bones. Chains around his wrists, twinkling like stars.

Even amidst a thousand stage lights, Vil still found a way to shine the brightest amongst all of them. He clutches at the microphone like it’s his lifeline, knuckles growing white from the sheer force he was exerting. Singing to the crowd, every letter spilling from his lips. Every syllable seemed laced with an alluring poison, an enchanting melody that never left your heart after you’ve heard it once.

Vil had the voice of an angel, and the raw, burning emotion of one who had been cast down unjustifiably. Truly the fairest of all.

Perhaps you’re his manager. Trailing after him after every concert, passing him a towel or some water. Vil’s rather grateful to you, considering the fact that you’ve stuck with him all this while. Even when he was just a fledgling of a singer.

You two sometimes spend lonely nights with each other, scribbling down lyrics on pieces of scented notepads. Ideation and inspiration do come from odd places… and having a piece of you in his songs does sound rather appealing to Vil.

He keeps the pages with your handwriting on it. Tucks it in a small drawer for him to pour over later, smiling softly at the way your letters dance across the page.

He does insist you watch his performances live on stage whenever you can. There’s a different sort of experience you get from listening to someone sing on the stage, rather than in a recording studio. The atmosphere, the sheer energy of the crowd…

And besides, he’ll do so much better if he knew your lovely gaze was on him for the entirety of the show.

So what do you say, love?

[oroniusn]

discovering you're asexual while also being super sex positive is so funny to me, like go experiment and try shit out dude you have nothing to be ashamed of! However I'll be here watching a 4 hour long video essay, but absolutely go enjoy yourself!!

[beanghostprincess]

He's the prettiest most handsome gorgeous kissable-looking man I've ever seen and this exact frame is the only thing I'm gonna talk about for a long while. Thank you.

[blinkpen]

as requested: mutates a terribly boring character the narrative is SCREAMING at me to finding sploosh-inducingly charming on the basis of Evil Is Sexy and literally nothing else by injecting him with secret cringefail loser genes

i did not put much effort into visual changes bc that'd be a waste of my own creativity, but i did a lil sumn at least. i spent less than 30 minutes total brainstorming a new baseline concept for whatever his deal is supposed to be and drawing this.

[fiendishartist2]

web jon is so sillay

[vasito-de-leche]

okay I read your analysis on Forget Me Not and I'm in tears now thank you. (No but really thank you, it's such a touching piece.) Can you PLEASE for salvation of our fans souls write anything to like,,, give him hope? Forget Me Not x reader but it doesn't have to be actually all-out with hugs and kisses. We may,,,,,,,, just show him a new hobby? Any hobby of your choosing or idk play an instrument together. Just to give him something else to focus on, to channel at least part of his energy from self-destructive activities to something less hurtful. I'd personally like to bandage his (not actually wounded but still) hands as if they were bleeding. Something of the kind. Sorry for mistakes writing is incredibly inconvenient cuz tears aaa.

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - "hands, fingers, scales"

Forget Me Not x Reader. 2.3k words. self-harm implied You've befriended Forget Me Not the same one befriends a rabid, beaten, old dog. And while he's much too busy fighting his inner demons, you're more worried about stopping these "pernicious habits" of his. A casual afternoon trying to make sure he's taking care of himself turns into something deeper.

thank you so much for the ask, nonnie!!

I got a little carried away with this request because thinking about how fucking insufferable and confusing FMN has to be just to indulge in HAND HOLDING and GETTING A FUCKING HOBBY made me so deranged and feral as if hes not fucking TOUCHSTARVED lmfao. this guy's love language is straight up worshipping, mf is not subtle about it

either way, hope you like it! here's the lil preview!

Sometimes, Forget Me Not understands the reason men and women kneel at the pew to worship and pray.

Devotion is something arcanists and humans share, whether honest or not. He's witnessed the rich and the poor, the pure and the depraved, and every binary that rules this world - all of them begging, pleading and praying at the end of their lives, casting away the pride they've held on for so long for the chance of salvation. Once stripped down to their core, there is nothing to do but hope God has enough love in His heart to look their way. 

And sometimes, Forget Me Not prays that you’ll find someone else - anyone but him - to fill the role of devotee.

The gentleness in your eyes whenever you look at him is enough to bring him to his knees, and Forget Me Not doesn't know what to do with himself but to worship and pray. Praying that you'll continue to look at him for a little longer, silently begging for your attention until you finally tire of him. Do you think yourself holy enough to replace the vitriol in his veins?

He does.

On good days, he even hopes that you can save him.

You never asked him to become your one and only believer, of course. You're not even aware of the space you take in his mind, nor the conflicting images he keeps conjuring of you at night, he's certain of this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, holding his hands and inspecting them for any injuries. This role is one of the many self-imposed tragedies in his life.

Your thumbs knead and massage his palm, as if you could soothe the pain away, and yet you refrain from pressing down hard. He's at your mercy, why hesitate? What do you see that he cannot?

Something is bothering you. It's obvious in the way you touch him, like you're afraid of hurting him, as if you were the one with a body count between the two. Every so often, your movements come to a halt and you both sit in silence, until you return to your ministrations, filling the nothingness with your sighing and humming.

All he needs is to look up, right at your face, to know everything he wants to know - but he's too much of a coward for that. Instead, light grey eyes follow your index finger as it slides under the cuffs of his shirt. You trace over the bone of his wrist and continue upwards.

He can't tear his eyes away.

Normally, Forget Me Not wouldn't mind. There is an addictive thrill to witnessing the shock of anyone who dares get so close and personal, but he feels himself shrink when you brush against his scales and recoil away on instinct. That's when he raises his head and finds your eyes in the dimly lit staff room.

That expression on your face - surely, you were regretting every choice that led you to him. By now, you might've surely realized that there is nothing for you to salvage in this shipwreck he calls a life. All attempts to check on him were surely a façade for whatever ulterior motives you continued to withhold from him. He's stubborn, believing that he can read you like an open book, but now he's just as lost as you are. When he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it and he grows a little restless at your words.

"Sorry, sorry! Did I, uh, hurt you? Dumb question, you would've definitely told me if that were the case. Anyway, it looks like you're okay! I don't know why I was so worried, actually."

His silence prompts you to continue, and all Forget Me Not can focus on is the absence of your warmth.

You raise a hand to gesture dismissively at your behaviour, brush it off to ease your embarrassment, that much he understands - though it's painful to watch you fumble like that, to deny what he hides under his clothes. Forget Me Not thinks of filling the space between your fingers with his own, just to drag you back to that quiet, albeit suffocating, moment of peace. Instead of doing that, he retreats and places both hands neatly on his lap.

"Thanks for indulging me and, yeah uh, again - sorry about that? It just caught me off guard. I should've been more careful."

But you were never careful with his space or his rules, plunging in and out of his life and leaving him to figure out where he stood in his game of push and pull. Why were you being careful now?

"It's nothing, I understand," he lies. Everything you do means the world to him and he doesn't even understand why. "It cannot hurt to know what sort of things the person pouring your drinks might be hiding under their sleeves."

The word "hypocrite" lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out with as much venom as he can muster, but it stays lodged behind his teeth because he knows he's even worse: Forget Me Not prays that you'll stay with him, while also opening the door right out his life for you. As much as he wants to, he has no right of calling you out.

He's not used to receiving apologies and so he chooses not to think too hard on yours - though he's dreamed countless of times for the perfect situation in which he finally rips out one apology after another from the throats of those who wronged him, this one feels different. Undeserved, even.

His heart, that wretched lump in his chest, finally settles down and he prepares to end this interaction to save you the awkwardness of addressing his "deformities". But then you go and surprise him once more.

"Come on, I already told you..." You sigh and he inhales in tandem, but you're much too busy rolling your eyes to notice. "That whole thing you do, when you start scratching or, like, picking at your hand? You've been doing it more lately. It had me worried you might've been doing, I don't know - something."

Forget Me Not's eyes widen in surprise. The audacity to notice such things about him? And to put them on display without a warning? What else did you find out?

Part of him wants him to embrace his nature and scare you away, but that's the side of him that's been slowly losing this battle of attrition in his heart - you're a bad influence for him, after all. The other part... Well, it's still trying to sort itself out.

He settles for slowly undoing the buttons on his sleeve. It only takes a moment to roll up the fine fabric to his elbow, knowing you're staring right at him, through him maybe. The expression on his face is one of indifference, one he fights to maintain - this is the most vulnerable he's felt in decades.

That unsightly pattern begins exactly where his sleeves usually end, coiling around his forearm not unlike a snake and traveling upwards. The scales are dark, an iridescent black that reminds him of an oil spill in the middle of the ocean, and the ones at the edges fade away into lighter hues until they mix with the pale, sickly tone of his skin. He knows the sort of beauty he holds, one that can only be admired at a distance, turning into a grotesque imitation of a man when up close.

Forget Me Not presents himself to you and, with his free hand, gets ready to pluck one of the scales off.

"Wait, don't do that-!"

Seizing his arm and holding it close to your chest, you deprive him of the catharsis that comes with this level of self-mutilation. He knows you're connecting the dots, feeling the scattered, empty spaces from all the times you saw him pick himself apart and more. Your fingers brush against his bare skin looking for said spaces, counting them in your head, mourning their loss.

Some scales are in the process of regrowing like unwanted parasites, and he wishes he could feel anything at all just to be closer to you.

"God, what is wrong with you?! What was the point of that?"

Something compels him to laugh (perhaps it's your heartbeat reaching out to him loud and clear through your clothes, he feels it faintly) it comes across as sinister and condescending, the only way he knows how to express joy. Like he's making fun of your concern.

"Apologies," Forget Me Not begins to say, readjusting his glasses. The way you try to keep his own arm out of his reach doesn't go unnoticed. It's such a petty, childish gesture that makes his grin widen and your frown deepen. "I was under the impression you found this little oddity distasteful. There's no need to worry - they will return in a few days, they always do."

"Still, don't do that. It's not funny. It must...hurt a lot."

"Ah, but it doesn't. If else, I'd compare it to being pricked by a very small needle."

"You're just going to find something to nitpick and contradict everything I say, aren't you?" It's the least he can do to repay all the headaches you've given him, and for forgiving his transgressions too easily.

An intrusive thought makes itself known from the depths of his mind - would you forgive him just as readily if he were to kill someone in front of you? If he showed you just how destructive his arcane skills could be when given free reign? Where would you draw the line? And how much could he continue to push his luck before he lost you?

Before Forget Me Not realizes it, you've loosened your grip on his arm and returned to that previous moment of suffocating peace - the only difference is that you've gone from being deep in thought to troubled and miserable, one hair away from darting out the room and refusing to speak to him. At this, his pinky finger wraps around yours and neither of you mention it.

"Can't you... I don't know, do something else?"

"I could be doing my job, but alas, you're keeping me prisoner here." He says, like he's not delighted to be given your undivided attention. There are no complaints when you step on his foot with a huff, he deserved that one.

"I'm talking about the scales thing! You could wear gloves. If it happens when you get distracted then, I could hang around to make sure you stop in time." A pause, and then the sound of your voice becomes unsure and so very small. "Maybe if we covered them with bandages...? But that could be annoying. Band aids? No, no - too unprofessional. It would ruin the whole aesthetic you're going for."

You continue to trail off, coming up with many different ideas and solutions to a problem he caused. He doesn't understand why you'd even bother in the first place. For you to reciprocate the attention he gives you, to care about him? That's the hardest pill Forget Me Not has ever swallowed - it's something he twirls around with his tongue, as if deciding whether to poison himself with bliss or spit it out and continue latching on to his doubts and insecurities.

Outside, in front of everyone at The Walden, he's the one leading the crowd and talking for hours on end, commanding their attention and manipulating the flow of every conversation.

Behind closed doors, all he does is listen to every nonsensical thought, unnecessary opinion and strange anecdote you throw at him.

"...No, that won't work either." Absentmindedly, you fix and button his sleeve back into place.

You've grown used to his silence the same way you've adapted and grown used to his flaws.

"I mean, it worked on me - getting a little slap on the wrist whenever I started biting my nails, but..." Without even thinking, you rub circles with your thumb across his knuckles.

You might as well be the stupidest angel in heaven.

"Why don't you just get a hobby? That's good enough, right? It's been so long since I've heard you play piano, the one by the stage." And just like that, you're on your feet attempting to drag him outside for a demonstration. "You could teach me! That way, we get to do something fun and I get to keep an eye on you."

Forget Me Not knows he has nothing to offer to this world, but when his saint looks at him with such hope, he cannot refuse. The path to recovery seems almost doable when you bump your shoulder into his, challenging him to play the hardest song he knows.

The stars in your eyes whenever you recognize all the songs he plays becomes intoxicating, more so than the sweet, sweet revenge he's yearned for since he spiraled into decadence.

Some days, his patrons join with their own singing or humming, and he forgets that he hates each and every one of them for as long as his fingers dance across the keys - a momentary reprieve from the constant stream of negativity. It doesn't take long for his body to remember his training and soon, he's improvising.

A melody for gloomy, rainy days. A whimsical tune here and there for celebrations.

A song for you and himself - the first one he teaches you and the only one he plays in private, when he's all alone with nothing but his thoughts. Solitude has gone from a noose wrapped around his neck to the perfect time to compose and hone this long forgotten passion. For the first time in forever, he doesn't dread the silence of an empty room, the endless wait between his shifts at The Walden - not when he can simply fill them with more and more music.

And so, Forget Me Not plays, hoping that you'll continue to cheer him on. Hoping that this tiny spark you've ignited in him can truly become his salvation.

[mossghosst]

we need to stop characterizing misako as a terrible mom and instead hate dr julien for deadbeat and leaving echo in that damn lighthouse

[lwiann]

Still so baffling to me how you cant completely ally with gortash as durge with all that history. For a game that lets you do some truly heinous things.

[brittlebutch]

actually it's kind of funny how people will say Alex's fatal flaw is that he 'doesn't ask for help' and that it's his determination to handle things on his own that leads to his deterioration and eventual death when his whole introduction to the present-day timeline was a very literal cry for help that simply went ignored

[scopophobia-polaris]

i actually don't really like the taste of salmon

look at this shit without my many shading layers

[sukugo]

i have to ask because i adore you and i want to know about your new blorbos- who are they and what are they and why are they always soaked in blood

JDHSJFHJFDDJFFSDFDF, oh man where do i start cassie.

they're from the anime/manga jujutsu kaisen, and they are:

gojo satoru. love of my fucking life. my fucking everything my boy my man, i am so so in LOVE with this man i cant even begin to tell u. he consumes my every waking thought, my life is dedicated to seeing him get fucked. (he's the guy in my header humping his all into the other's arm)

and (ryoumen) sukuna. beautiful sexy evil man.

(can u tell who's my fave)

so in this world, we have jujutsu sorcerers, who are people with special powers that they use to defeat/exorcise curses, which are basically evil spirits born of negative human emotions

gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive. he is insanely strong, not a single person can go against him. his powers make it so that u literally physically cannot touch him. he controls "infinity" and can warp space, and he also has pretty special eyes that let him perceive things at a much deeper level than a regular person. those two things combined make him quite literally untouchable. and insanely powerful.

as for sukuna, he used to be a human who lived thousands of years ago, who used to be the strongest sorcerer of his time, and is considered to be the strongest sorcerer in history. he is the King of Curses, no one could ever defeat him, or destroy his soul, which he divided into his 20 preserved fingers so it would survive through time, even after dying.

so itadori yuuji

this lil baby boy (literally the babiest sweetest boy to exist btw) (he's actually the main character haha)

due to some stuff, he ends up eating one of sukuna's mummified fingers and sukuna reincarnates inside him. yuuji becomes a vessel for sukuna, who lives inside yuuji's mind now and sometimes takes over his body (reason why they look the same)

and now, yuuji is sentenced to be executed bc he holds the most evil sorcerer in history inside him, but gojo goes nope! wait a minute, let's not do that. and manages to convince the people in charge to postpone yuuji's execution, saying that they'll get yuuji to find and eat all of sukuna's fingers and then execute him, getting rid of sukuna all in one go.

ok so that's the context (that's actually what the anime's about haha), but as to gojo and sukuna.

THEY ARE IN LOVE

well, they're there. sdkkhfkjdkfdf

ok no, so like they do their things right. gojo is a teacher (tho we never actually see him do any teaching lmao) and sukuna lives inside yuuji and causes trouble sometimes. they don't really ever interact in the story (they literally meet and have a lil confrontation, decide to kill each other and never talk again djshjfdasdadfd) (until they actually have their Fight, more on that later)

BUT!!!!!!!! they may not interact, but they are completely tied together narratively.

as u can see, they're both the strongest from their respective times, so they have a lot of links when it comes to their characters themselves and what they are referred to in the story. specifically that, in being the strongest, they exist in a plane above everyone else, literally untouchable.

now, in the story, this position of strongest is coupled with solitude, being the strongest meaning u're alone and no one else understands you bc of this

and SO they have their fight. bc plot reasons right. this is obv what it was all gonna lead to. fight of the two strongest.

and the fight, consequently, revolves around that idea of solitude, and understanding each other.

which like. ok. yeah we saw that coming. ofc. no big deal.

EXCEPT, to make reference to their relationship and that idea of understanding each other, the term that is used is, and i kid u not, love.

there's a very specific phrase that is used multiple times between them. which is actually used originally with a character who shows romantic feelings towards sukuna.

she challenges sukuna to a fight and sukuna promises to marry her if she wins. her goal in this fight is to share in sukuna's solitude and show him love (read R→L)

but she says this to sukuna and this. this is his reaction.

SUKUNA KNOWS LOVE ALREADY

to which she gets super pissed bc that's not!!! love!!!!!!!

sukuna defeats/kills her. and u know when the next time that exact fucking phrase is used? when sukuna and gojo finally meet again and set up the date to have their Fight, where sukuna remembers her words

which tells us that.

sukuna was.

thinking about gojo when she said that.

*screams into hands*

BUT IT DOESN'T STOP THERE. this phrase is then repeated. multiple times.

1. right after gojo punches the fuck out of sukuna:

2. said in reference to gojo, when he realizes there's a chance of him losing:

3. gojo reminiscing about their fight:

so, as u can see, they were going to teach each other love. their fight is. canonically. about teaching each other love. what the FUCK.

but ENOUGH love talk (or else i'm at risk of going crazy insane)

LET'S TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'RE LOADED WITH SEXUAL TENSION

this was in their first meeting where they fought (for quite literally 10 seconds)

like... why he do dat.... .......... . ....

next day sukuna goes "hey im gonna kill u first <3" and gojo just goes "teehee omg really? *hair twirl* <3"

they also decide to have their final battle on dec 24 which is like a super romantic date in japan (explicitly said so by another character)

and their FIGHT. it is LITERALLY just them flirting and touching each other

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i fucking lost it. i still haven't recovered. that is the hottest thing i've ever seen in my life. gojo wants that dick so fucking bad

not to mention thigh grabs and hand touchies

and the entirety of the fight is just them having fun 😭😭 they're supposed "enemies" on opposite sides and the fate of the world is at stake here, but they actually don't give a fuck about that.

they're literally smiling and having a great fucking time. this fight for them is just play. their fight is just for them to have fun as the strongest and to connect with each other. they're enemies but they don't hate each other or anything, they only search for that sense of fulfillment in each other OTL

AND ABOUT THAT, oh my GOD

sukuna wins. he defeats gojo. and at the end, this. is what sukuna says to gojo at the end of the fight:

FUCKING. I'LL NEVER FORGET YOU. SCREAAAAM THAT'S ROMANCEEEEEE.

and the soft smile? the fucking petals falling all over them? oh GOD they're trying to kill me

but that's on sukuna's side, what about for gojo? well

HE GENUINELY TRIED TO REACH SUKUNA, GAVE IT HIS ALL TO CONNECT WITH HIM. TO TEACH HIM LOVE AGFKDHSKFHFKJFHDF (BUT HE FAILED HE COULDN'T GIVE SUKUNA WHAT SUKUNA GAVE HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)

HHRRRRGJFHSJDFHDSJFSDFA KJHDKFJSFKASLDKS ADKJKFHEWRKJEKRKTRELRW

and if i start crying OTL

but alas *deep breaths*

even without all that they're just very fucking sexy. two insane powerful men going at it? come on. how could u NOT want them together. they both hold the same title of the strongest, might as fucking well fuck nasty about it.

and oh god, when i tell u gojo is a fucking brat and he's so strong and untouchable, but then sukuna is capable of putting him down which is. insanely sexy. and i need it. i need gojo obliterated. and i know sukuna won't let me down (AND HE DID NOT. HE OBLITERATED THAT MAN) can he now obliterate his holes too

agdkhfhdkhdhs, anyways.... yeah.. that is the situation.........

im just gonna end this by saying

SUKUGO MY LOVES

[almoststedytimetravel]

Everything I learn about that stupid Palworld game makes me loose more and more faith in gamers. Because everyone was saying it looks good.

But it doesn't.

This game is ugly as fuck.

The menus have zero stylisation, it's just a semi transparent black box with plain white text. While the overworld and the Pal's are in completely different art styles.

There's the obvious plagiarism, ripping meshes directly from pokemon models and designs from fan made fakemons. This isn't the studio's only plagiarised game. There's the well known among us rip off that uses Ai art. Their game Craftopia asks the bold question, is everything people thought Genshin Impact was going to be (a lazy botw rip off). While their up coming Metroidvania game rips directly from hollow knight.

Everyone is saying that this is what people want from pokemon but, is it? When it comes to the games that get praised it the ones with the better story and game play. But Palworld has no story and it doesn't really have gameplay comparable to pokemon.

This isn't a creature collector, it's not a turn based rpg, it's a survival crafting game with a shitty gimmick they only did for attention. It's completely soulless. At least modern Pokemon games have some soul. No matter what crunch they were under someone at game freak wanted to make a good game worth playing, even if it runs like genshin impact on my old potato phone.

You can put sleek graphics over a soulless husk of a game and gamers will act like it's the best thing since sliced bread.

If you want to play a good pokemon-like by an indie studio that doesn't commit gross plagiarism, play Cassette Beasts.