#ah i love this show

[beyblader-observations]

Something that I haven’t seen in the later Beyblade series that makes Bakuten Shoot so special is how Beyblading is largely about getting people to talk about their feelings. Especially with big boss battles. In the midst of battle they’ll be like “I can tell something is wrong, ___! Please, talk to me! So we can have a *real* battle!” And then we get the shojo sparkles, and they put emphasis on the characters’ expressions and body language as their thoughts and feelings change. Sometimes it feels like Takao is doing therapy sessions. I notice that it often seems like the characters are shown on screen more often than the Beyblades during battle. It’s not about the toys as much as it’s about the beybladers’ emotions, thoughts, and desires. It’s about seeing how they change when their Beyblade spirit is ignited!

[loki-hargreeves]

Me hearing this line at 3am despite having seen this episode a million times before

[irohsteaa]

I'm going straight to hell for laughing so hard at the "The Story of Jimmy Rebel" episode

[egophiliac]

roll out the red carpet guys we're going to the SHAFTLANDS

[iamacolor]

A man should have conservative lips. You can't let some random girl kiss you!

LOVELY RUNNER 💛 (2024)

[rayveneyed]

cw: smut / cisfem!reader / scent kink

something nobody ever considers about satoru gojo is that he’s very particular about scents.

it’s a weird side effect of the six eyes that is rarely ever spoken of, by him or any other; along with his fantastical sight, his ability to distinguish minute details kilometres away, to read the ever-twisting flow of cursed energy, yadda yadda yadda — the extrasensory perception he was granted the second two gametes fused into a zygote had skyrocketed every perceptible sensation above the level of the average human. leagues above the level of not-so-average humans, too, but that’s a story for another time.

beneath the slightly dusty smell of skin cells and flesh, each person is different. diet and exercise play a huge part, of course, but then there’s the more obvious things — perfume, toiletries, surroundings. nanami always smells like paper and sandalwood. nobara, sweet and fruity, with a sneaky undertone of something synthetic — something almost hospital-like. yuji smells like grass and citruses, like he’s just popped open a can of something fizzy and caffeinated on the lawns of jujutsu tech. but if he had to choose a favourite…

“could — could you, um—”

one really must forge their own little bits of happiness in this line of work. the constant death and despair really puts a damper on one's lust for life. for gojo — sweets, cute little figures, themed cafes and expensive cakes, things that pleasantly appeal to and delight each one of his six senses. you, in a similar way, enjoy the finer things in life — cashmere and vicuña wool, luxury furniture for your top-floor apartment, century-old wines with names you cannot pronounce — and, to gojo's delight, perfumes.

oh, you have one for every day of the year, he's sure. white florals bursting with zesty citrus, bergamot and black tea when the weather cools. there's fluffy vanillas and sugar-sweet marshmallows, tempered with the smooth depth of sandalwood. osmanthus seeping with syrupy apricots and and peaches. cloves and nutmeg and cypress for the days when the clouds split open and tokyo turns grey.

with your back pressed against the couch and gojo flush against you, hips slotted between your pillowy thighs, he's able to dig his nose right into the curve of where your jaw meets your neck, exactly where you spritz your perfume every morning. today, it's one of those delicious, good-enough-to-eat type of smells; white chocolate and macadamia nut and — fuck, he almost moans against you. sugar and spice and everything nice — you smell like everything he's ever wanted to gorge himself on. he's reminded of the cheap, strawberry body spray you used to use back in high school — how the scent would catch on his nose when you walked past, how it lingered on his jacket when you brushed against him. he shivers.

he lifts his lips from your skin — lifts his nose from the cradle of your neck to give you a distracted, slightly disgruntled, "huh? what?"

it's only without the smell of you clouding his nose that he suddenly realises that you're squirming against him — the heat of your clothed pussy pressing against his hardened cock, layers of cotton and denim and linen between you both leaving you with only the slightest, most irksome hint of pleasure. even with his blindfold fastened over his eyes, it's all so much.

"just — i need something," you say, exasperated. your forehead's dewy with sweat, glasses slipping down the bridge of your pretty nose. "you've been at this for ages."

"ah, my bad." but he doesn't stop. how can he tear himself from your warmth, the heat of you radiating from your skin, your arms wound around his neck and fingers in his hair? how can he leave even a single inch of space between you, when your chest is heaving with excitement and the musky sweetness of your arousal is reaching his nose? he satisfies both your needs for stimulation with slow, curling rolls of his hips, dull pleasure tingling up his spine and leaving him shuddering. "i thought you were more patient."

"you — you're the one that dragged me in here," you say, even as your breathing gets heavier, even as your head falls back with a whine, baring the column of your neck to his greedy, seeking nose. "i told you i have plans, so unless you—!"

"alright, alright," he concedes, though all of your arguments about the time have been half-hearted at best. "don't you worry, i'll take good care of you — real good care."

"you sound like such a sleaze when you say stuff like that."

"mhm." for a moment, he lifts his head — and he doesn't have to look at his reflection mirrored in your eyes to know that his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed pink. you're not much better off — for all your whining and posturing, your proverbial claws aren't much more dangerous than those of a scrappy little kitten. beneath it all, your breathing is laboured, your blood vessels dilated. you smell sweeter, like your body is a ripening fruit or blooming flower, opening for him. your blood rushing to the surface of your skin, heating up the fragrance oils still dotted along your flesh, turns it all heady and head-dizzying.

you want him — you can deny it all you want, but he can see it clear as day. the reminder sends what little blood remains in his head straight to his cock.

"you smell sweet," satoru says, blank and dumb. "when you're horny."

for a moment, you pause. embarrassment — and arousal, though you probably won't admit it — has you locking up. a hint of bitterness turns your fragrance — like burning chocolate — before you huff suddenly, smacking at him until he begins to back up. "oh, my god — you're so shameless, satoru—"

"no, i'm serious! h—hey, stop!" he argues, wriggling until he's back in your good graces again. he dips his head to your skin again, teasing you with little nips along your neck. you'll see the bruises it leaves tomorrow and demand he make it up to you with sweets that he'll just have to eat with you, earrings that glimmer in garnet. for now, though, he’ll get a little serious.

"you get a little sweeter when you cum too, y'know," satoru coos. he tugs at his blindfold, blinking as unfettered light filters into his retina. it's sensory overload, overstimulating and overwhelming, but it's exactly what he wants: to see you, feel you, taste you, smell you — be engulfed by you in every way he can. as if drawn there, his hand sneaks between the tight fit of your bodies, slipping under the hiked-up hem of your skirt and petting at your underwear — soaked, as he’d expected, coating the tips of his fingers. "like syrup. i wanna smell you like that.”

his tongue peeks out over your pulse point, touch reaching up and up and up to that fantastic little ball of nerves he adores. you let out a moan so loud that even he’s taken aback. giddiness bubbles in the pit of his stomach — giddiness, horniness, it’s all the same to him — and he shoves his nose so hard into your skin he swears it’ll bruise. ah, there it is. he’s barely even touched you, too. it’ll be even better when he does.

“g—god, you’re horrible,” you say, arching into him, like you can’t bear to be apart for even a second.

“me?” satoru laughs. you’re distracting from the task at hand, though he usually doesn’t mind. he can’t help but respond, giving you your own attitude back a thousandfold. it’s just now, when it’s been so long since he’s gotten his fill of you, he’s just… a little impatient... “oi, don’t get all embarrassed — you always get so mean.”

“then stop saying things like that, and i won’t have to be — a—ah!”

satoru suckles at the cold-hardened flesh he’s just taken in his mouth — your mouth falling open in wonder and your chest heaving as he takes your nipple between two dull rows of teeth, humming. between his fingers and his mouth, you’ll soon be rendered almost completely silent, shuddering and twitching in what he knows will be a strong, satisfying orgasm — sweet with sweat, salt and musk gathering between your legs. looking up at him with glassy eyes and calling his name. his mouth waters.

he better get a move on, though: you have plans, after all.

[skitskatdacat63]

DTS S6E1 "Money Talks" - Fernando Alonso & Lance Stroll

[elderwisp]

[sloane-kdramas]

The secretary continues to read him for filth

[meandmyechoes]

[clarification: I meant Filoni decided Ahsoka is a Knight using the Bendu as a mouthpiece]

To anyone wondering why Ahsoka is addressed as "Jedi Knight" in the live-action show:

It happened in a fever dream

Ahsoka was knighted by the Bendu before Malachor in a Filoni tweet on 7 July, 2017. (Malchor aired 30 March, 2016)

This is a PSA but at the same time not providing grounds for it to be a sensible choice. It is an example of Filoni requiring the audience to follow every bit of non-source material for full context. For the second time at least. First time being Bane's grudge against Boba in TBOBF relied on an unproduced TCW Tatooine roadtrip arc between the two.

[blaithnne]

Oh so I’m supposed to choose one outfit for The Goldie O’Gilt? Get a fucking grip

Meet the Cast!

╰┈➤ Canon ☄. *. ⋆

→ Scrooge McDuff → Matilda McDuff → Hortense McDuff → Qalhata Duiker → Jack Duckworth → Bentina Beakley → LÙ Huifen (pre-caseflies) → LÙ Huifen (post-casefiles) → Ludwig Von Druska → Bradford Butcher

╰┈➤ OCs ☄. *. ⋆

→ Lucrais NicRiada

.ೃ࿐

[somerandomdudelmao]

CASSEROLE I HAVE RETURNED AND WITH A FIC THAT I THINK YOU’LL ENJOY OKAY THANKS

still don’t know how to add cuts in asks/reblogs so we’ll deal with some empty space again ig

Leo awoke with a senseless, overwhelming FEAR rooted deep within his gut. He sat upright in bed, his leg still aching from the beating he took in the Prison Dimension, but he knew that wasn’t what he was worried about. He started looking around, his eyes wide and red with terror. In the end, he was unable to find what he was looking for.

But then, all of a sudden, with no prompting whatsoever, fear turned into a DESPERATION so LOUD AND PAINFUL that Leo thought he would be crushed underneath it. It was a feeling unlike any other, an emotion he’d only felt once before, and it was CRUSHING him!

And for some odd, unbelievable reason, it all centered around Donatello.

His Twin.

Leo didn’t even give himself the time to think on it any longer. He just ran out of bed as fast as his still aching legs would go! He opened the door to his train car, almost ran right past Donnie’s because he’s still not used to the new layout of his brand new forever-home, but quickly corrected himself before getting to the kitchen and ran back towards Donnie’s room.

When he finally arrived, Donnie was already on his feet. He seemed frazzled, dazed even, by something that wasn’t even there.

And by god, Leo felt exactly the same way.

The two were inseparable within an instant.

Leo crashed into Donnie’s plastron immediately, making the two turtles crash back onto the soft-shell’s bed. The lack of retribution towards the sudden physical contact on Donnie’s end made the bubbling anxiety within Leo’s chest tighten, constricting on his lungs and making it hard to breathe. Leo tried to fight it back, because he knew that Donnie felt the same way, but it only led him to a new feeling he hadn’t yet felt. A feeling of loneliness, of grief, of being lost and worried he’d never be found…!

Nope. Wait, scratch that, he has felt this feeling before…

But for some reason, it’s worse this time…

Leo’s chest ACHED so so much with all these new, unprompted emotions that just came out of NOWHERE, and so he just… Cried. He cried into Donnie’s shoulder, tightened his grip on his twin, and just barely managed to lift the weight in his heart by a little bit. Slowly but surely, after what felt like an eternity, Leo’s tears slowed, his exhaustion from just being woken up taking up the space that the emotions left behind. Until eventually, there was nothing left to feel except an insurmountable emptiness and exhaustion.

The red-eared slider didn’t want to let go of his twin just yet, didn’t wanna leave the only proof of his very existence, but he knew the hug had to end at some point. So, with a heavy heart, Leo began to let go.

But Donnie, despite everything, still clung desperately to Leo’s body, muttering words that Leo couldn’t hear. His voice was a whisper, a desperate and sad version of a voice that Leo had grown to adore. It wasn’t the voice of exasperation or the voice of annoyance, no. It was the voice of longing and desperation… A voice that did not belong to Donatello in the slightest.

“Tello…?” Leo murmured into his twin’s shoulder, his own voice raw from the tears he’d just shed. “Are you good?” He didn’t get an immediate response, so he just hugged harder.

“I feel like…” Donnie suddenly began, his voice still quiet and sad. Leo tuned his ears so he could listen intently, not wanting to miss a single syllable. Because… What an odd way for Donnie to start a sentence. “Feels like you left and never came back.” Donnie said. “L-like you died or something, and that you were gone for years! Then I woke up and you were with me again, but something was still missing, and then you just… Then it clicked back.”

Oh. So that’s what that feeling was.

“I feel the same way.” Leo supplied carefully. His head was beginning to hurt from the sudden swell of emotions, but he pushed the pain away for the time being.

And then suddenly, before Leo had time to even process what the hell just happened, Donnie’s grip loosened and his head plonked onto his shoulder heavily. He didn’t just immediately fall asleep, but the turtle looked TIRED AS ALL HELL. Poor guy was probably awake all night again! So Leo did what any Good Samaritan would do and carefully set Donnie to bed, not wanting to touch his shell and warrant an unprompted panic attack. But just as he was about to leave Donnie to sleep, his twin grabbed ahold of his wrist and didn’t let go.

“I JUST- I want to be sure that you’ll still be here. My cameras were ruined in the attack last month and I haven’t gotten around to fixing the ones in your room yet, so I just… I-I need to-“

“Donnie, if you wanted a Twin Cuddle, you could’ve just said so!” Leo giggled half heartedly, the smile on his face feeling more like a grimace. “Now move over you big log!”

“Shut up, Dum-Dum.”

Idk how to end this so we’ll leave it there ig. This was inspired by a previous ask similar to this where they wrote in brackets that the present twins just spontaneously felt the same way as the future twins. Thanks for that little burst of inspiration!

and thanks to Cass for making the comic and for existing and for murdering my feelings it makes me feel great kthxbye-

OOOOOOHH THIS IS INTERESTING

[mipexch]

heed heaven’s call, one way or another

[magnusbae]

"...You had to be able to show too much of yourself. You had to be just a little bit more honest than you were comfortable with. And if people judged you, if they felt they knew who you were, that was just something that you were going to have to live with. And what was strange is, once I started doing that, and I was expecting to be judged, or shunned, or people’s opinions or to have to deal with things, what I discovered was, actually, their opinions were, we really like this. We love this story. That’s a good story. It felt huge. It felt personal. And I realized that’s because I was being honest about me.“ —Neil Gaiman

[just-null]

I WANT TO WISH U A HAPPY NY🎉🎄!! (now in my country they celebrate🥲)I'M GLAD TO MEET UR BLOG. THIS IS THE CUTEST N MOST WONDERFUL BLOG. I very rarely see creativity with our sweet Nori!! But when I saw your blog, I was so happy!! I hope that in the future the blog will develop and thnq, dear froggy, for pleasing our eyes!!😭😭😭💗💗YOU'RE THE SUN & THE CHARM!!(◡‿◡✿)

*sorry for my strange english, I have problems w/ it 😞*

HAPPY END OF YEAR TO ALL OF YOU

Your english is lovely, dw. tysm for finding my cult in this corner and liking what you found! Also for reminding me today is the last day of the year (my time)

aint no fucking way am i gonna allow this cult having more depictions of me than Noritoshi fucking Kamo. So i present to you, my beloved cult members, a bunch of doodles i have of Noritoshi.

there is no particular order

[stardryad]

In which I drew Steve (worgen) and Eddie (night elf) as their characters in World of Warcraft 🤲 Inspired by @stevespookington's fic i couldn't see (you were always right beside me)!!