#Fucking love this weirdo.

[ruby-static]

Trying out a few Fallout games (mainly New Vegas atm) and-

…I may or may not already have a favorite. Look at this dude.

[lordspoooky]

Ice king is a really good character because they intoduce him and you're like "haha what a freak what's wrong with him" and then the show goes "oh! You want to know? Let me show you :)" and you end up just sitting there like

[egophiliac]

low-poly Floyd is my new favorite thing

non-animated:

[sadisthetic]

the madness frustration loneliness of the dissonance of a mismatch of the rotten heart to the rest

allosexual aromantic swag happy pride *peaces out*

[ewwww-what]

You are not a coward. You have a goddamn medical condition, alright?

[rainedropsart]

Some Wondie doodles to go with the Arrowette I drew yesterday, I need to draw her stupid wig outfit more

[spookyboywhump]

The thing that I feel like people need to understand about whump is that it’s inevitable that some people are gonna be into it sexually and it’s inevitable that for some people it’s also a kink and it’s inevitable that some people fantasize about whump scenarios. And that’s fine. There ain’t nothing wrong with that, if that makes you uncomfortable you don’t have to interact with those people, there is a block button for a reason.

But just because it makes you uncomfortable don’t mean it’s wrong or bad. You can’t come to a community for weirdos, that runs on art and writing made by weirdos, and then get all upset when hey! There’s weirdos around here! The person who writes whump because they think it’s hot ain’t more weird than the person who writes whump because it helps them vent, and that person ain’t any weirder than the person who writes whump just because they think it’s neat. By the standards of most people outside the whump community, we’re ALL weird for enjoying it at all, so there’s no sense in getting all high and mighty because you believe you enjoy whump in the most pure and moral way possible, unlike those “degenerates” so to say. And honestly, if you aren’t mature enough to understand the simple fact that just because someone likes something in fiction, or just because someone likes to fantasize about something, that absolutely does not mean they want it in real life, then you probably aren’t mature enough to be having these discussions about whump/kink and whether it’s “okay” or not if someone gets off to it anyway.

[dilutedbeanibeans]

umm!!!! I dont think that’s normal!!!!

[silent-lily]

Shadow who knows fuck-all about how to hedgehog properly (only small bits from books) because he spent most of his time around humans and thus socializes more like a human.

Shadow who can't purr like all hedgehogs do because his vocal cords are a tad different (cuz alien genes) but who can actually produce a mean alien-ish growl.

Shadow whose teeth and claws are too sharp and whose quills are too tough to be like ones of a normal hedgehog.

Shadow who has heightened senses of smell and hearing and perfect eyesight, but most of the food tastes like slightly-flavored cardboard for him.

Shadow who isn't nocturnal but also not diurnal - he just sleeps whenever he's too exhausted to function.

The Ultimate Life Form but a very weird, fucked-up hedgehog.

[corxoran]

haunted

[mckeeks]

anyone else’s friend group chat keep periodically sending random screen caps from the latest short and finding more things to lose their shit over?

THE YAOI PADDLE???

the pony in the jar…

Every 20 minutes I’m a cackling mess

[hatsukeii]

if you're too shy (let me know) / bsf!osamu miya x reader

genre(s): fluff! + bsf to lovers!! they're both kinda stupid but i respect it! this is an apology from me to you for all the shit i've put you through in the past few angsty fics

warning(s): suggestive at the end, but no explicit nsfw, and you can interpret it as literally never happening as well! mc had one meh/bad experience w a hookup and it's mentioned in passing but nothing graphic

wc: 1.7k

tldr; the five kisses that osamu thinks he'd like to give, and the time that he does

#5: Miya Osamu would like to kiss into the palm of a hand

Osamu's hands have been calloused, bruised, and battered from youth. His fingers have caught flying volleyballs by the bloodied tips, knuckles have beaten up Atsumu countless times, palms have scraped and squeaked against the floor of the school gymnasium every day and night. Osamu doesn't remember what it feels to run his fingers across the smooth lines of his palms, or how it feels to touch his bare skin without some scratching sensation from the hardened rounds that decorate his hands.

Tonight, Osamu lies on the rooftop of some bar, the twenty-something people here for Atsumu's MSBY victory party shaking the walls and collapsing the ceiling with bouts of dancing and screaming. The fake grass beneath him cushions his body, bending and curving under his weight, and the weight of another beside him. His head tilts to glance over at you, limbs splayed out across the ground.

"What... whatdya lookin' at... 'samu?"

His head fogs, eyes spinning as he turns back to the starry sky, and the white dots in a backdrop of black begin to draw spirals around his head as he subconsciously rubs at the calluses on his fingertips and picks at the dried skin peeling off his palms. You. He's looking at you. Tonight, he thinks he'll use the sky as an excuse.

"Stars... they're pretty."

#4: Miya Osamu would like to kiss the top of a forehead

The earliest kiss Osamu can recall is from none other than his own mother, who held his face so gently in her equally calloused palms as her thumbs rubbed at the bruise on his forehead, earned from running into a glass panel wall. It must've hurt, Osamu! Be careful! She had said, inevitable tenderness seeping from her angry brows and worried eyes as she pressed a soft kiss into the bruise. The purple stain must've disappeared then and there, healed by a kiss, Osamu thought.

You roll over to lie on your side, and shuffle towards Osamu, who's still picking at nothing on his hands. A whiff of hot breath fans the skin of his ear, and Osamu freezes up at the proximity, shifting in the grass.

"...'samu! areyouuu drunk?"

His ears are red at the tips when you giggle stupidly into them, almost scalding to the touch, like they will melt skin and boil blood at direct contact. You haven't changed one bit since graduating from Inarizaki, still a lightweight, still whiny when alcohol begins flowing through your veins. If he could, he would pick you up, and tuck you into the nearest bed with the blankets up to your chin, just the way you like it, as he usually does when you show up at his house like this on random midnights. This time, he swears the alcohol is getting to his head too.

"Nooo...?"

The ground beneath him collapses when your fingers come up to flick his forehead. He twitches, before shooting up and rubbing at the sore spot. He curses himself for forgetting about the shots from before settling in when his mind blanks and his body sends itself straight back into the grass, the impact forcing a grunt from his chest. You cackle at him, and Osamu thinks he could definitely use a kiss on the forehead right now.

#3: Miya Osamu would like to kiss someone on the cheeks

Whenever Atsumu brings his team along to the store, brooding, foreign men soften into mounds of affection, teddy bears who engulf Osamu in all-encompassing embraces, and push sloppy pecks into both of his cheeks. In these situations, Osamu isn't sure what else to do but stand and let every teammate have their turn. He made an offhanded comment once to Atsumu, something along the lines of not understanding why a kiss on the cheek was the default greeting for foreigners. Atsumu, with grains of rice decorating the corners of his mouth, laughed at his question, and told him, it's the cheeks that smile back.

"Hey...'samu?"

You've propped your head up in your hand, elbow digging into the grass beside Osamu's motionless figure as you lie sideways on your hips, face angled above his own. Your eyes travel to his that stare at the sky, and you swim in intoxicating pools of mercury, bedazzled by the reflections of rhinestones sewn into the night sky. Osamu tries to look at the stars, he really does, yet his noticeable glances at your flushed cheeks are enough to catch your attention. Somewhere downstairs, a bet has been won as fists slam into tables and cheers erupt from the bar. Somewhere on this roof, your hair hangs loose in the elastic that's unwinding from your head, a silk cover draping over a Roman statue.

"Can weee... try something?"

#2: Miya Osamu would like to kiss along the side of a neck

Osamu likes to make fun of you the mornings after you stay over at his place, from the second you shoot up from his bed and storm into his kitchen, where he prepares onigiris to shake away the hangover from the night before. Once, a few years ago, he had to run to the nearest convenience store for bruise cream, all to help ease away purple marks the size of someone else's mouth on your neck. He deliberately fucked around when helping you, poking at different spots until you slapped him and snatched the canister of cream from his hands. Whose fault was it that you now look like you can't 'curl your hair?' He had spat out. Osamu knows that he only made fun of the purple splotches because they weren't his own.

"Are you...sure?"

"Yeaah!"

Osamu is cautious, hands hovering above your waist as the two of you lie on your sides. What he's doing, he isn't sure. After all, in his twenty-four years of living amongst the likes of you, and in eight of those years spent watching you from the corners of his eyes, he has never touched anyone like this. Not their hands, not their face, not their waist. He moves away from your waist, opting to graze his pinky with yours instead. You tangle your fingers with his, holding his hand tight against your own. His calluses are hard beneath your soft palms, toughened through trials of time and effort. You lead his hand up to the side of your neck, and release it there. Osamu lets it mold into the shape of you, palm fitting on your body as if it was carved for only his touch.

"Feels right?"

"...Feels good, 'samu."

You return his touch with a hand cupping his cheek, and something unfamilar, more dizzying than the shots he took, surges through Osamu's entire being. He turns his face to your touch, and his mouth just makes contact with the lines on your palm. They're soft, so warm against his lips, and he presses them a little deeper, a satisfied hum voicing itself from your throat.

"Do you...like that too?"

"I...do. Is it okay if you keep going?"

He nods, pulling your face towards him as he turns away from your palm, and planting a kiss on your forehead instead. Your breathy sigh is music to his ears, and he lets his lips linger on your skin. But Osamu is only doing this for a friend, a friend who is confused about what feels good, and what feels wrong. A friend who hasn't felt genuine touch since the night they showed up at his house, hickeys decorating their neck. He remembers your grumbles beneath your breath as you slathered the cream across every single purple stain, fuck, it hurts. He didn't get it then, and he doesn't get it now. How could this touch ever hurt, when everything about it seems tailor-made for the mouth that gives?

"Was that okay?"

"...Yeah, that was nice."

Osamu's eyes migrate to your cheeks now, flushed and red even in the guise of darkness that encompasses the air around you. He wants to see them smile. He moves from your forehead, and his vision darts between each of your eyes. Your breath hitches at his staring, and it gets stuck in your throat when fluttering warmth lands on your left cheekbone, then your right. His hair tickles your forehead, body now impossibly close to yours as his hands massage and stroke at your neck. You think about slipping your hands beneath his shirt, so you can touch him the way he's doing to you, bare skin and all, and you smile.

"Do you want a few more?"

You don't want just a few more, you want it all.

"Yeah, do what feels right, 'samu."

He grins, dipping into your neck as he peppers kisses across its length. You squirm and giggle at the sensation, his breaths and hair tickling your sensitive skin.

"'S-samu! That tickles! Something else! Please!"

He laughs into your neck, before coming back up to meet your eyes. Your figure is getting blurry beneath his vision, either from the alcohol still running through his system, or something else- something better, more addicting too.

Then Osamu's got his lips on your own, and you're slipping your hands beneath his shirt the way that you thought you wanted to. His torso is smooth beneath your fingertips, and he shivers, sending trembles from his body to yours. He can't see a thing beneath his eyelids, but his hands find the skin of your waist instinctively. His hands were made for this, he thinks. Not to pick at his calluses or to trace lines into his palms. No, they were made for you, made to hold your waist against his own. Your hands travel from his torso to his back, feeling for the dip in his spine as you push him close, even closer than he already is.

"Do you like me, 'samu?" You mumble against his lips at the chance, and he gives you a shit eating, albeit smitten smirk in response.

"I think you know that already. But maybe…”

His head inches towards the side of your own, sending a hot breath into your ear. His hand slides towards the centre of your stomach from your waist, irritatingly slow.

“…I would like you better if you took off your clothes."

#1: Miya Osamu would like to kiss you

author's note:

i'll kiss u fr if u know what song this is made from because i can't get it out of my head like it's SO GOOD also i need osamu like this too he's a YEARNING MAN HERE!!! this is the apology for all the angst i've been pumping out lately i know i've hurt a few souls but it's nothing a yearning osamu fic can't fix bbs

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @starlysama @catsoupki @akaakeis @fiannee @bailey-reeds @hiraethwa @iiwaijime

ok bye bye see u next fic pookies love u guys

[whaliiwatching]

his pathetic simpering and megalomaniacal charms have captivated me

[knightforflowers]

started listening to graduation for the first time last week

(Original image under the cut)

[aberrantbeast]

its uhhhh whatshisface, five rocks

[pepperpixel]

Some quick lil pics of this guy!!! He is my baby girl… my goofy goober… my terrifying cross dimensional sweetie pie..