OHHH MY GOD?? - Blog Posts

more Veldi Alex doodles

fun fact: I forgot an animal in the animal list.

I also wanted to do the thing prey mantis's do when they always look like they're looking at you all of the time, but they're not. :)

Throws a brick at you

If I was funnier I would have given you a witty comeback, but I’m not so here’s chaos plan bunny making out

cw: self-indulgent, reader has short hair and piercings, atsumu is there

iwaizumi hajime isn’t an easy man to distract.

only a singularly focused man could be the ace of aoba johsai, could study at a prestigious university in a selective major, could become the trainer for the japanese men’s national volleyball team. he chases his goals relentlessly; he is intense in every realm of his life.

“blah, blah, blah, backstory stuff,” is all he can hear from atsumu’s mouth as he watches you nod along. you’re a childhood friend of the setter, or a cousin, or something like that. you came to team dinner because you’ve just moved to the area and you’re relying on atsumu to introduce you to people who will show you around.

iwaizumi wants to show you around, alright.

your eyes are lively, your lips pressed together as you try not to laugh at whatever bullshit is coming out of atsumu’s mouth. iwaizumi’s jaw goes slack as you nod along and your earrings jingle, exposed by your short hair and emphasizing your long neck. your jewelry is all coordinated, from your multiple piercings to the necklace resting on your exposed collarbone.

“-waizumi,” someone is saying. “iwaizumi-san!”

oh, shit. everyone’s looking at him.

“…huh,” he grunts articulately, training his eyes on his plate.

“i was saying,” atsumu says, a glint in his eyes that iwaizumi does not like at all. “you know some good hiking spots in the area, yeah? places where you can be in nature in the city?”

“uh,” iwaizumi says. “yeah. why?”

“oh,” you cut in before atsumu says something horrible and weird—iwaizumi’s developed a sixth sense for when he’s about to do that— “i was curious. i’m not used to such urban areas, so maybe you could take me to some of your favorites?”

“course,” he agrees before he processes anything you’ve said. “whenever you want.”

you beam at him, pretty lips splitting into a wide white smile, and he completely loses track of whoever is snickering in the background.

“you’re so kind, iwaizumi-san,” you tap a finger on your nose. your nails are shiny, long and sharp. he can almost feel them on his skin. if he blushes any harder he’s going to get a nosebleed. “not at all like atsu said.”

iwaizumi swivels his head to stare at the setter, suddenly laser-focused. atsumu laughs, looking panicked.

“i only said good things, all good things! like you’re really strong, and cool, and good with baby animals…” he trails off. “right?”

“next practice,” iwaizumi promises, “you’re gonna do dolphin drills until you die.”

HI?? HELLO?? HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS OH MY GOD

my insides have been scooped out. there are voices in my head chanting this. i love you

Okay fine guys I caved

*re-lys3rgid3s your daydream*

The consequences of my actions weigh far too much

But this is for @ryy-bread specifically. Otherwise I would've lived through the guilt

NEW BOOK

Bruno bonding with his younger newphes is EVERYTHING that i asked for

its gonna release march!

Like A River

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3.9K

A/N: This is part of a lovely prompt challenge I’m doing with @quietlyimplode. A bit of angst and a bit of fluff, contains some heavier themes.

There were two of you. You knew that from the start. You did not ask about her.

You were in love. You wanted to be.

Keep reading

Hollow Knight fandom wake up Fangamer finally made a Hollow plush this is NOT a drill

Obligatory link here

We finally won guys. We got an official Hollow plush

I ask for nothing; I can get by. But I know so many, less lucky than I. Please help my people, the poor and downtrod.

I thought we all were the children of God.

HOSU E OOF WELCOVES... .OWLVE.S... OOHNMMYMGOF.d...

WE'RE SO FUCKING BACK

HI I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE SANDOR there's not enough Hound love you are doing the seven's work

👉👈 can i humbly request something about Sandor thinking "fuck it" to protection and coming to the idea of pumping reader full of his pups? maybe with a little big cock/tight fit mention sprinkled in? obsessed w his size difference and his commanding presence and how he just takes what he wants i love u im kissing u on the lips xx

THANK YOU 🫂 and i agree !! i think i read every sandor fic on here in one sitting so i just HAD to rectify that at ONCE !! wait did they even have protection in those days? did they like put a sock on it or smth (smooch ilyt)

table of contents; tight fit, big dick, clit stim, size kink, breeding kink (but you’re both as bad as each other)

he’s never loved you as much as he does in this instance.

your hair splayed out over the pillow, your eyes lidded and desirous, lips parted into a pretty little o-shape. you’re a sight for sore eyes, spread beautifully beneath him as you prepare to take him so well.

“it’s been a little while,” he says, softer than his usual tone. he’s been away for some time, accompanying the king’s entourage north. you stayed home with your children. “might hurt a bit, love.”

“oh please, i’ve popped out three cleganes,” you assure him, hands stroking up and down the large expanse of his back. “one after the other, might i add. you planted some beastly babes in me, you know. i think i can manage this one. . .” you reach between your bodies to grip him gently in your palm, squeezing him at the base.

he closes his eyes, hips rutting against you. “woman,” when he opens them again you’re gazing up at him in that same way that dements him with ardor every fucking time. “if you keep that up, i might put another one in there.”

“won’t hear me complaining.” you whisper, lifting your head to close the gap between your faces. your lips scarcely coast over his, then you latch onto his bottom one, sucking it into your mouth before releasing it with a crude pop.

a noise that can only resemble that of a growl crawls from his throat and he bucks into you, the engorged head of his cock splitting you open for him. you both shudder, your back arching until your breasts press against the solid barrels of his chest.

“fuckin hells, woman,” he hisses, tensing above you. “wouldn’t think any babes of mine had come from this cunt.”

you feel so full already, it feels like he impaled you with all of him. “gods— sandor, please. . .”

“hold on— fuck.” he adjusts himself, cockhead throbbing within the puckered rim of your entrance. he peers down to where you’re connected, your pussy stretched like a wailing mouth to accommodate his bulbous tip.

your heels push impatiently against his lower back and he grunts, relying on every ounce of what little self-control he has to not pound you bloody. with a callused thumb, he manipulates your little cluster of nerves with circular motions and sharp flicks. you flutter around him and he feels your walls ease slightly, allowing him to sink a little deeper.

you mewl like a bitch in heat, hands roaming any part of him that you can reach. “i’ve missed you. . .”

“aye? which bit?” he quips, nipping at your neck as he submerges himself by the inch.

your loins burn as they spread for his intrusion, the sting of it increasing as he begins to bottom-out. “all of you.” you manage, slurred and wavering. he hums and lifts a hand to your moaning mouth. “spit for me, love.”

you do, the act of it a little filthy but not at all below you. he fists what remains unenveloped by you, twisting his wrist to coat himself. then with a thick finger he probes at your opening and you gasp, finally able to swallow the rest of him. when he bumps that gummy spot, familiar to both of you, the ache subsides and you melt together.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” he winces, as if pained by the way you cling to him.

“we’re not helped by your size.” you mumble clumsily, as if drunk.

“gonna take us a lot of fucking to fix it.” he tells you, commencing a slow pace. retracting only slightly, leaving most of his length within you, then gradually plunging back in.

you throw your arms around his neck, legs locked around his hips. “oh no. . .”

he smirks at your sarcasm. “might have to get you pregnant.”

you start to roll your hips in time with his, matching his gentle rhythm. “mhm, might be unavoidable.”

“gonna put a litter in here.” he massages your tummy where his cockhead bulges beneath the skin just below your belly button. “fill you with more of my pups. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you tug him down by his hair. “i’d want nothing more.” and lick your way into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue from when he’d devoured you some hours ago. with a particularly tender thrust, he drives himself against your cervix just right, drawing a delicate yelp from your mouth and straight into his.

i genuinely love love love the iconoclast path in rogue trader SO MUCH. its one of the things that ultimately enamors me to the warhammer franchise as a whole despite empathy being so antithetical to its world and genre. its not just because iconoclast is the Nice Person route or because it subverts the foundational principle that In The Grim Dark Universe There Is Only War............ but mostly i love it because its the best way to actually engage w the morality system presented in 40k and explore it the way it deserves to be explored. its so unique parsing through the choices of the game and navigating how one might actually ACHIEVE goodness through - or more accurately without - the lens of liberal modern morality. because adhering to what we presently would call morality is arguably crueler than some of the dogmatic choices - or at least the game wants you to reflect on that and decide if that kind of morality still has value or not. and i like that they give you the opportunity to do that. youre rarely rewarded for kindness in this game and in fact your oftentimes actively punished for it (void shadows was a TRIAL for my iconoclast rt) which presents another question: are you being good because of a reward you believe you'lll be entitled to, or are you being good for the sake of goodness itself??? in saying that i do LOVE how there IS payoff in the iconoclast route eventually - when youve bleed and suffered for it enough. but theres a quality to it thats so..... so BITTERSWEET, because yippee you Empathed your way to the top - but also what IS the top?? congratulations, you are the kindest autocrat in the most bloodthirsty fascist regime in human history, sitting on your throne on a voidship run by all your slaves and serfs who die by the hundreds every time you make a warpjump for some dumbass sidequest. what the fuck. can you actually call that goodness ????? is whatever goodness-adjacent thing youve achieved worth it even if you cant change the system in the ways that matter ??? lastly - the iconoclast ending is both so wildly universe-altering to the point of feeling like a heretical ending - but also kind of. not mattering really lol. because even though its hopeful, the "good" ending still feels soooo tentative with the likelihood that its very likely not going to last. but that in itself is my favorite take away from playing this game as The Last Good Guy in the Galaxy: because the love DIDNT change anything. and it DOESNT save anyone. but ohhhhhhhhh my fucking god does it absolutely matter that it was there.

im too old to be im too old to be keepin up with all of the kidsss

Im gonna lose my fucking shit

in another world, you get to save him.

it is not a grand thing. you do not pull him out of the way of an incoming car. you do not slip off a building and wait to hit the ground. you do not rip the heart out of something that was never human and watch as he paints his face dark with its blood. you do not love him with the fury of a supernova, bright and terrible and too far away to ever touch.

instead, you take his hand. and you do not let go. you never have to wonder what the world is like without him, what it would be like without you. you do not have to set your teeth into what you love and pull it back from the edge. the end of the world never has to happen.

in another world, you are enough, all by yourself. how awful is that?

it does not change the fact you are hunted, haunted by memories that are never quite clear enough to understand.

(his smile, his voice, the feathers and the fear in his eyes when you promised to die for him. how selfish you are.)

you don't--you don't want to talk about it. it's as if verbalizing these dreams will make them real, that he'll melt away before your eyes, proving once and for all that you have never been enough for anyone. you hold these secrets behind your tongue as they burn a hole straight through your throat.

he asks you if it's because he's dead.

you cannot answer. the house around you is red with blood, and the only person you think you've ever loved is asking you if he's dead (he's been dead from the beginning), and you do not want to remember.

(here is a truth you will never tell anyone. for a moment, you had wished he were dead. for a moment, you had wished that you were the only one he had. that it is him, and it is you, and that you two were the entire world. it is sick, and awful, and you hate yourself for thinking it. you dream of him anyways.)

you do not want to remember. so you won't. that's what he tells you, and you are desperate to believe him. you'll go as far away as you possibly can, you and him, and you will be together.

(it's already too late, but you don't know that yet.)

(or maybe you do.)

you tell him to run. if you can't save yourself, you can save him. in this world, you can save him.

you do not like thinking about what happens next. the pain. the white of bone. limbs where they should not be. by the time you are pushed in, it is far too late for you. you are glad of it, because it means the pain will be over.

and then--and then--and then. oh. the blood.

(it is not thick and black, clotted with knots of supernatural embolisms. it is just red, coppery, human. your palm drags across it, slick and warm. your blood, and his.)

you curl, a spiral of wishful dreams and drying blood, around him, a pale facsimile of comfort. here, you are not a savior. you do not have to pretend you are not afraid. at the bottom of the well, there is silence.

(at the end of the world, it is him, and it is you.)

in another world, you do not get to save him.

i love how by project sekai worldlink standards getting sent to america is like the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. how do we convey a parallel universe where this character made the wrong choice?? make sure they end up in america that’ll scare em

idol achilles + beanie baby king achilles = constantly getting gifted beanie babies and not knowing what to do about it achilles.

i also finally have a reason to play around with these tweet generators. im having the time of my life. evidence attached below.

[ID: Several black and white digital drawings depicting Arthur, John, and Noel. Arthur is drawn as a skinny man with light hair, Noel is drawn as a more muscular man with darker skin and hair, and John is depicted as a grey cloaked figure with long dark hair, a large light eye, and light eyelashes.

1. Arthur sits at a table, his forehead braced on his steepled hands in embarassment as John leans over his shoulder, wide eyed and says: "Arthur!!! Tell Noel I like it when he calls us doll." When Arthur does not respond: "Arthur? Oarthur listen to me-!!!"

2. A different scene where Arthur leans in to grab Noel's face and kisses him. Noel appears surprised. John narrates: "yes Arthur YES you did it Orthur‐ hehe his face is kinda funny this close." We see a doodle of John's POV, which is Noel at a 0.5 angle from right above, emphasizing his eyes and nose and minimizing his chin.

3. Arthur by himself. He brings John's hand to his face and kisses it sweetly. John's wooden pinky rests on his cheek.

4. Noel brings John's hand to his mouth, bows his head, and kisses it gentlemanly.

5. Arthur and Noel naked in bed, their waists covered by a bedsheet. Arthur lays still, expression furrowed as he says: "I can't believe this is my life now." Noel responds: "idk doll, not the weirdest thing to happen to me this week." Noel is comfortably reclining and smoking. John has his left leg thrown over Noel's and his left hand curled up under his arm and over his shoulder. Little black hearts hover over where he clings. End ID.]

They are so normal I love them

this is the sincaraz thesis btw. if you even care

normally toji prides himself on being the perfect guard dog—not that he would ever tell you that. but you never have to worry about guys coming up to you when your hulking monster of a boyfriend remains at your side, continuously glaring down his nose at everyone he sees.

this usually works pretty well.

on adults.

but now, as you and him wait in line at the counter of the grocery store, he can only let out a huff of irritation as he watches the little brat in front of you both stare over his mother’s shoulder—big wide eyes locked on you.

at first you don’t really notice, too busy blabbering about something silly as you look around the store. but when you finally lock eyes with the child, you notice the way he seems to go shy, pressing his cheek deeper into his mom’s shoulder. his eyes flick away from your face for just a second, before timidly looking back. as soon as he does, you break into the sweetest, most giddy smile.

(toji would move mountains for a glimpse of that smile—and yet here this kid is just getting it without a shred of work.)

you tilt your head, raising a hand to gently wave at the boy, who flushes further under your attention, but lifts his cheek a little more. chubby fingers come up to meekly wave back, and you hold back a silent coo of affection, eyes filled with honey-like sweetness. with every little giggle and silly face you make at the boy, he seems to get more and more comfortable—toji watches you melt.

the unlucky little brat then quickly peeks at the giant man looming beside you, and toji can’t resist. his face pulls into a evil smile, teeth on full display as he wiggles his fingers sinisterly. the expression has its desired effect—the kid recoils, eyes going wide before burying his face into his mother’s neck. in a few minutes, the boy and his mom are heading out the store and you and toji start loading the groceries onto the belt.

“i saw that, you know?”

toji glances up, seeing your semi disapproving frown, and he cocks his head in faux innocence. “saw what?”

“you’re mean,” you shake your head, crossing your arms. “scaring little kids like that. quite literally the object of their nightmares.”

“ah, he’ll be alright,” toji grunts, taking the bags from the cashier in one hand and reaching for your palm with the other. “it’ll build his character.”

you snort. “he’ll have trauma.”

“like i said,” he grins, a canine display. “character.”

you roll your eyes as he tugs you out of the store—your grip on him unwilling to falter.

toji lives just like this, successful in scaring off any other person who considers giving you attention, whether that’s an adult or a little kid. and despite your exasperated complaints to at least lay off the children (they’re harmless), toji has known for a long time that he can be nothing but selfish when it comes to you.

so forgive him, if he quickly turns to this evil little tactic to scare away kids—it’s all he can really do. besides, it always works.

until now.

you’re sitting under a tree at a small park, working on some dumb assignment for one of your lectures. toji lays on his back next to you, arm draped over his eyes in a momentary respite from the normal danger of his life—eerily content.

the peace is broken by the rustling of tiny footsteps in the grass.

“here you go.”

toji pulls his arm away to peer at the owner of the voice. a boy stands there, hair tousled as he waits in front of you with his arm outstretched—in between his chubby fingers is a singular dandelion.

your eyes widen, cheeks splitting into a wide smile as you coo out your affection. “aw for me?”

the boy nods mutely, cheeks flushed as he thrusts the flower further into your view. you delicately pluck it from his hands, inhaling the fragrance with a grateful smile. “well thank you. it’s beautiful.”

he shyly kicks at a spot of grass, lips pulling up into a giddy smile under your sweet praise. “just like you,” he mumbles under his breath and you squeal softly, giggling at how adorable this kid truly is.

toji sits up before you can say anything else, lips pulled into a displeased frown as he crosses his bulky arms across his chest. “hey.” his voice comes out low and tense, even as he stares down his nose at the boy. “what are you doing?”

you turn to look at your boyfriend, at the exaggerated sneer that normally works wonders in scaring kids away, and you hold back an exasperated sigh. “toji—“

“who are you?” the boy frowns, sass appearing out of thin air as he looks toji up and down like he’s nothing but dirt under his colorful sneakers. you gape at him, eyes darting back and forth between the two as a smile threatens to make its way into your face. toji’s lips part in surprise, a tingle of heat crawling up his neck as he hears your hushed gasp of held back laughter.

“her boyfriend,” he grunts back, eyes narrowed in a way that’s oddly similar to the expression on the kid’s face.

“no way!” the boy huffs, pouting indignantly. his cheeks flush as he glares at toji—unfazed.

“uh, yes way.” toji realizes how petty he sounds, but he’s adamant—unwilling to stand down in anything that involves you.

the boy crosses his arms, mirroring toji’s pose. he rolls his eyes emphatically, lip curling as he sneers down his nose.

“isn’t she too pretty for you?” he asks bluntly. you smother another disbelieving gasp, and toji suddenly feels an unfamiliar thrill rush through his veins—this kid had guts.

“what do you know, brat?” there’s a smirk evident in toji’s voice now, and he uncrosses his arms to lean back on his palms, eyes shining with feral mirth.

“i have eyes,” the boy snaps back, putting both hands on his hips to appear more intimidating—it doesn’t work, he just looks cuter. “i can see her.”

“well quit it,” toji huffs in return. “not yours to look at.”

the kid narrows his eyes. “you’re mean!”

“and you’re nosy!”

“how am i nosy?”

“you’re comin’ over here and givin’ my girl flowers!”

“she deserves flowers!”

“of course she does! from me, you little brat!”

“you suck, old man!”

“what did you just call me?!”

a shout from across the park disrupts the heated bickering, and you all turn to see an older woman waving the boy over. he looks down at you, a sweet smile washing over his face as he tilts his head innocently. “that’s my mom. i have to go home now.”

“heh, sure thing. get home safe, okay?” you shoot toji an amused glance as you speak, and he sends a displeased glare back as he stubbornly crosses his arms again.

the boy nods, beaming at you. “okay! see you later!” he chirps. but just as he’s about to leave he turns back, eyes fixated on toji. “i hope your boyfriend learns how to be nice!”

and then he runs off.

you snort out another laugh, which only gets louder when you catch a glimpse of the way toji is practically sulking in the corner—scowling at the kid’s back with narrowed eyes.

the whole thing is so unbelievably endearing, and you can’t stop grinning as you pack up your things and stand up.

“let’s go home, toji.” you hold your palm out for him, and you’re rewarded with a pointed glance—he takes your hand anyway. even as you both exit the park, toji has an unamused pout on his face, glaring ahead.

you can’t resist.

“don’t tell me you actually feel threatened now,” you giggle, grabbing his bicep and pressing close. toji glances at you from the corner of his eyes, unamused—which only seems to make you laugh harder. “oh come on! he was so cute!”

“little brat,” he grumbles in return. “couldn’t take a hint.”

“you’re mad because the eight year old kid at the park didn’t want to believe you were my boyfriend?”

“the fuck do you think? of course i am. what do i look like if not your fucking boyfriend?”

you chortle, practically falling on him with the weight of your amusement. he sighs, disgruntled.

“it’s not funny, kid.” toji rolls his eyes at you—internally, he’s trying not to grin.

“it’s so funny, toji.” you straighten up, smiling at him with stars in your eyes. “you’re ridiculous and it’s so cute.”

he scoffs, giving you a sidelong glance before reaching up to tug at your cheek. “i’m definitely not the cute one.” he murmurs offhandedly before internally smirking at the way you seem to be caught off guard by his statement.

“whatever,” you mumble, holding his arm as you both continue walking home in relative silence. from the corner of your eye you can see toji’s expression as he mutely stares ahead, deep in thought. you decide not to disturb him, content on just feeling his warmth bleeding into your palm—always at your side.

toji replays the incident in his head multiple times as you head home. the bickering, the sass, and the unfiltered adoration that little brat seemed to have for you.

something clicks.

as you’re pushing open the door of your apartment, you hear toji quietly chuckle from behind you, and you turn to look at him over you shoulder. “what?”

he shakes his head slowly, eyes shut even as an uncharacteristically soft smile tugs at his lips. “just thinking…”

“about what?” you ask curiously.

toji grins at you, cocking his head fondly. “when we have a kid, i want the little brat to be just like that.”