#THIS WAS A REALLY FUN ONE

[mikhailoism]

a little night out for bathena !!! (also on twitter if it looks familiar)

[bowelfly]

drain fly bugsona for @eisly with an armful of ferrets rove beetles for a secret santa art trade

[enthyrea]

commission of goose for @rebel-fight! thank you so much for commissioning me <3

[psymachine]

epilogue to this

[queeratlast]

Episode 6 is out now!

✨If laughter be the food of love, pod on!✨

Open thine ears to our tale of the illustrious bard himself, William Shakespeare - who is way gayer than the British school system ever led us to believe...

[benegesseritofficial]

Just in time for the end of school! My mentor teacher has a bearded dragon that lives in the classroom so naturally her thank you gift needed to be a portrait of The Boy. This loving homage is about the length of my hand

[galionne-vibin]

MGS Crack/Rarepair #2: Vamp/Fatman (Practice)

Another very fun one to work on, bit longer than the previous drabble.

Vamp is definitely OOC but I mean. I feel like you kinda have to write some characters OOC for this.

Also Fatman is the funniest character to write he's such an ass

Vamp / Fatman (Roller Rink)

Surely, rollerblading can't be that difficult a skill to learn, right?

This was what Vamp had assumed when slipping on his brand new pair of black and red inline skates. Wrongfully assumed, of course. Because no matter how well he could walk on water or up vertical walls, the moment he tried to stand upright in his new gear it seemed as though his feet gained a mind of their own and wanted to go anywhere but forwards. He had been trying (and failing) to regain control of them for the past hour and only managed to stay off the ground for a whopping 8 seconds, before flying almost face first into the nearest table. He was in fact currently sitting on said table, undoing and redoing the straps on his rollerblades in the hopes it might, somehow, fix all of his problems.

Vamp had originally planned to practice on the base’s helipad as it was relatively out of view ; but Fortune had talked him out of it, kindly reminding him of the high winds, cold temperatures, risk of rain and the fact that if he accidentally slipped under the safety rails, the fall all the way down into the ocean would be… Unpleasant. That ; and the mess hall was where Fatman liked to skate anyway, so the almost-vampire might as well start there.

Vamp finally finished fiddling with his roller skates and rested his feet on the ground.

He liked Fatman. He never cared to figure out why ; maybe it was the man’s lust for violence and his innate capabilities for destruction ; maybe it was his physique ; or maybe it was his understanding and views of combat as an artform. Maybe it was all of these, or none, or something else entirely- it didn’t really matter. Vamp knew he wanted to get closer to him and rollerblading seemed like a good way to do so…

Although, he’d need to actually be able to stand first.

With a deep breath and focus on his balance, Vamp slowly rose to his feet. He waited a few seconds, remaining steady, then gave a small push with one foot. He slid forwards a few inches, ever so slowly coming to a stop when the momentum ran out. Tentatively, he gave a push from the other foot. A few more inches. He straightened his back, taking in another deep breath. This was good. Very good-

He gave a third push and the world spun backwards.

Vamp’s knees buckled unexpectedly as one foot rolled out from under him and the other was left with too little surface to compensate. He tried desperately to kick his legs- to no avail. The loud clacking of plastic wheels against the floor was only interrupted by a sharp and short cry of surprise as the rogue slipped backwards towards the unforgiving ground. But before either his head or back could make contact with it, he felt a strong grip around his upper torso preventing him from slipping any further.

“You are horrible at this, you know that?”

Shit. Shit. Shit shit shit. Fuck. Shit.

“-Fatman… Good afternoon…

-Good afternoon. Your posture is terrible for skating, your straps are far too loose and as much as I appreciate you looking into professional equipment, high-wheeled racing triskates are the worst possible pick for a beginner.”

Vamp, wisely, opted not to contradict him.

The vampire felt the grip around him tighten as he was pulled upright and guided back towards the nearest table and as he turned to sit down, he got to take a proper look at Fatman. Rather than wearing his usual heavy blast suit, the expert in explosives was dressed much more casually with a Hawaiian shirt neatly tucked into a pair of black cargo shorts. The pattern on the shirt was unusual, blending the typical tropical flower motif with drawings of comically cartoonish bombs- a gift from Fortune from a couple of years ago. He was also carrying a messenger bag over one shoulder and in his other hand holding a wine glass, large, full and adorned with a long twisty straw. And, to Vamp’s initial surprise ; he was wearing his rollerblades too. Fatman was mounted on wheels and yet displayed perfect balance when crouching to put his bag on the ground, not spilling a drop of wine or showing the slightest bit of unease.

“-Quad skates are more stable so we’ll work with that for now, Fatman explained as he set his wine glass down and pulled a different pair of skates out of his bag, These have a higher boot too so they’ll hold on to your ankle better. Once you’ve actually mastered these, then we can give your skates a go.

-You’re going to teach me?”

The question sounded almost more like a statement. Fatman glanced up at Vamp briefly, before grabbing the rogue’s leg and getting to work removing his black and red skates.

“I am, yes. I cannot let you sully the art of roller skating by letting you make a fool of yourself…”

The bomb expert finished unlatching the rollerblades as he spoke. He pulled them off, before slipping the new pair he had brought onto Vamp’s feet.

“... And even if I know it wouldn’t kill you, I’d rather make sure you don’t slip and break your neck…”

He carefully laced the quad rollers and stood back up, giving the vampire’s leg two pats on the way.

“Get up. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Vamp looked at his feet, took a deep breath and put his wheels to the ground. He found that he was indeed more stable, but as he tried to stand up straight his knees began buckling again. Fatman offered him his arm after having picked up his glass of wine and the rogue gladly clung to it.

“-How did you know I was here?, Vamp asked while awkwardly pulling himself up, I thought you only skated in the mornings…

-Fortune told me. When I heard you were trying to learn how to skate, I ran to grab a pair of quads and came here as fast as I could.”

Even though Vamp could guess this was still about not allowing him to fail at skating specifically, it felt… Nice, that he felt the need to come and help him.

“Alright. Squat, lean forwards, heels in, toes out. We’re working on your posture first.”

The vampire did as he was told while still clinging to the other man’s arm.

As it turned out, despite being rather dry and even rude at times, Fatman was an excellent teacher. He got Vamp to stand on his own in about 10 minutes, mostly through letting go of him or pushing him without warning to force his reflexes into action. Learning to move forwards was a little more difficult and cost quite a few more bruises- mostly from falling onto his side or slamming into tables and chairs. But little by little and with Fatman’s gentle encouragement (dryly pointing out everything he was doing wrong), he slowly got the hang of the proper movements. He even received a reward after finishing his first lap of the mess hall on his own- a few sips of wine. It had taken him by surprise- not because of the drink itself ; Vamp certainly enjoyed a nice glass of wine occasionally- but because Fatman had offered it to him by holding up his own glass, leveling the straw with the rogue’s thin lips. A little hesitant at first, he’d taken a few small sips ; and the other man’s approving gaze and playful smile as he did caused an unusual feeling of warmth to spread across the vampire’s face.

By the time the sun had begun to set over the ocean, Vamp had gained enough confidence to pick up the pace and skate alongside Fatman. The pair made small talk, occasionally passing the large wine glass back and forth.

“Oh, are we out?” Vamp asked as he watched his skating partner finish what little liquid was left in the bottom of the glass.

They had already refilled it twice using a flask Fatman kept on his belt, but it seemed like even that had run dry. The bomb expert nodded and turned, effortlessly skating backwards as he spoke.

“-It seems like it. But… I do have a bottle of Ch��teau Margaux I was hoping to open for dinner, if you’d care to join me.

-Is that an invitation?, Vamp asked, raising an eyebrow, Then I’ll take it.

-Good!”

Fatman gave a hard kick and pushed himself backwards, reaching the door in one swift motion.

“My quarters, 7:30 sharp. Bring your roller skates. And don’t be late!”

And with that he disappeared into the corridor, leaving Vamp smiling proudly to himself as he slowed to a stop. Never had he been this excited about a glass of wine before…

[official-kenralie-fanbase]

If you're still taking headcannon request Bronte mentoring Sophie?

Oohhh this is a fun one :D

And I will always take headcanon requests! It might take me a few days to finish each one but if you have a headcanon request send it in, I always love to talk about my headcanons!

Now moving on to the actual headcanons:

The reason why Bronte was so upset at the fact that he'd have to mentor Sophie was that he knew what the Black Swan had done in making her an Inflictor, and he was angry about it.

They had no idea what they'd done. Bronte hated being an Inflictor, and now the Black Swan put such a heavy burden on a young girl who already has too much to deal with

For centuries, he's had to deal with the struggles of being an Inflictor. Having to store up his darkest emotions so they can be released at any given moment really takes a toll on a person- one Sophie is much too young to realize

But she already was an Inflictor so he figured might as well Mentor her so she doesn't cause any damage

And at first, he absolutely hated it. He hated seeing his younger, more innocent self reflected in this girl. This girl who he believed would grow up to be just as damaged as he was.

Especially when he thought she was "malfunctioning". Bronte had already been furious with the Black Swan since he knew about Project Moonlark, and now he despised them.

He never really hated Sophie. He hated what the Black Swan had done to her, and the fact that he had to bear a lot of the repercussions.

The turning point in Bronte and Sophie's relationship was the ability restrictor. He was willing to support some form of punishment, and he'd even inflicted punishments on her himself (see what I did there) but this? This was going way too far.

And ever since then, he's vowed to protect her

Not just from the Neverseen, but from the Council.

Their Mentor-student relationship grew into a friendship based off of them both understanding something no one else would understand.

They never really talk about how hard it is to be an Inflictor, they just simply have this mutual understanding that doesn't require words.

Even though Bronte won't admit it, they have fun together in their sessions. Bronte will tell her gossip about the other Councillors and she'll tell him about Dex's latest prank on Stina

Sophie will casually drop in references to human books and movies

She thought Bronte got really annoyed with them, but then one day he accidentally dropped a Percy Jackson reference

Sophie went all :D :D :D and Bronte denied everything, not telling her that he'd stayed up until 3am last night finishing The Last Olympian

Even after Sophie's Foxfire training was over, they remained friends and would have movie marathons together

Ultimately, they have a mentor/student relationship that only two people faced with such a terrifying, humbling power could share.

Sophie learned from Bronte, of course, but he also learned from her.

Bronte, someone who never thought he'd have anyone to share in this burden, ended up with a young girl who taught him how to use his ability for positive inflicting, not just negative

And Sophie, who originally thought Bronte would be her hardest Mentor, the person she feared, ended up finding someone whom she could help as much as he could help her.

[salty-almond]

One of my free Fr commissions for @/Bamboli

[nicolos]

Tagged by @non-un-topo, thank you tumblr user non-un-topo!!

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

I went with 10 TOG fics, including some of the more recent mini fics so I wasnt going for smth from like, 2020. They're in reverse chronological order here~

Rate of Interest

Nicolò propped his hands on his hips. He was dressed far better for the palace than he had the other day at the piazza—in brocade and a fur-lined cape. When he shifted his hands, his signet ring glinted. “I had not expected you to be so unhappy about an arrangement Signor Al-Wahid and your uncle have spent so long making possible.”

snakeskin

Nicolò sighed. “I have wanted to tell you for so long, Joe, but—we are not allowed to say it to mortals, not until they have an inkling.” He paused, and then, “I hoped you would not be afraid.”

disaster taxon

After, with Nicky lying beside him, smiling at him like Joe had given him something wonderful and intangible, Joe thought that it was easy to give Nicky what he wanted all the time. And he would—if it meant he’d keep looking at him like this, and holding him like this, and—he’d do anything if it meant Nicky wouldn’t see the cracks in him and disappear.

adventure

"That's it? I thought knights these days were more about the pageantry. Aren't you going to wave about a sword and threaten to kill me if I don't help you, or cry about some princess you've never met and have to rescue from a dragon somewhere?"

some cupids kill with arrows (some with traps)

It was exactly like a fae’s mark would be—but still, Yusuf would guess. Unmoving. Waiting.

fossil

This is it, she thinks, trying not to feel like she’s been falsely lulled into complacency. Time for Kill Bill: Vol. 2. For a second, she even wonders if all the rest of it—the cards, the cheese, the terrible driving and the jigsaw and the full three hours Andy and Joe spent in a single shop trying to buy a blanket that felt right—if all of those things are just to make Nile’s survival instinct forget who they are.

a founding

When they part, he takes the sea route, though not by choice, and later Yusuf hears of a calm sea into which a ship disappeared whole. Sometimes, things slip through the cracks.

wasteland, baby (i'm in love with you)

“What a coincidence,” he said, when Yusuf was looking down at his hands with an expression that was just as fond as it was hungry, “so have I.” His hands would be sweet, if he kissed them now, from the dates Yusuf had brought him.

lachesis' noose

He was still looking at his palm when Andromache arrived to throw herself into the armchair next to his. She looked over, one eyebrow raised, and he showed her the guilty hand. One of the women had insisted on reading it, as a repayment for his aid that he didn’t particularly want; she had blessed him with a long life. It was almost funny.

and a smile means friendship to everyone

“I like this shirt,” Joe murmured, and Nicky laughed; the real thing, now, unpracticed, with no hint of threat, only the purest expression of joy. Joe pressed his thumb to the crow’s feet—then rushed to wipe away the blood that followed.

I tag..... this is all just going to be the same people, but. @raedear @chinchillinator @babygirlyusuf @knoepfchen @werebearbearbar !

[elisethetraveller]

List five songs that inspire you to write your Muse!

Experience by Ludovico Einaudi

Dear Fellow Traveller by Sea Wolf

Anywhere away from Here by P!nk and Rag'n'Bone Man

Dear God (Listen, Elise might be firmly non-religious, but this song has vibes)

Creature by Half Alive

Tagged by; @misstantabismuses (Thank you so much!!)

Tagging; @masquenoire , @chiropterx , @king-crane , @independentzaun , @brutalscaled , @arkhampsych , @cursedfortune & @zoophagist

[mickmundy]

@5piecechickendinner i answered number 97 on this post, so this is part 2, numbah 122! :-) HEHE!! TY AGAIN SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING BESTIE THIS WAS SOOO FUN!! another kiss meme fill (which are still open hehe!)

122. “it’s always been you” kisses

“It’s always been you, since the day I met you.”

An old romance movie played dully in Medic’s lab from a small, tabletop television. The screen flickered and black bars rolled upwards off of the screen every few minutes. Nobody was watching it, only idly listening. The lights in his lab were low, pointed at the only subject in this room other than himself. 

“You’re so beautiful under this moonlight, my darling…”

Sniper nearly glowed beneath the light, shadows flirting and playing along the expanse of his skin as he took deep, even breaths. In and out, and again. He looked ethereal. Not that Medic would want him anywhere else other than where he was, but he could vividly imagine him looking even more stunning within his element… perhaps lounging among crocodiles on a rocky riverbank or laying alongside exotic flora in rich green, brown and golden hues…

“I daresay there’s not a more angelic sight than you before me…”

His gloveless, bloody hand lovingly ran itself through Sniper’s thick hair, his nails brushing over his scalp. Medic smirked as he heard the EKG kick up just for a moment before falling back into its relaxed beat. He paced around the table, admiring his beloved’s nude body, the modesty sheet that had covered him now laying over his hip and thigh. Dense body hair kept him�� somewhat modest at the groin. The composition looked intentional, like he was a marble sculpture in one of the museums he favored in his young adulthood.

“Oh, my love! My heart beats for you!” 

Sniper’s eyes fluttered open, then closed again, smiling lovingly as he could smell his beloved doctor before he could see him. The hand that had been laced in his hair came down and caressed his cheek with the back of his knuckles. His thumb gently stroked his bottom lip. Medic inhaled shakily as the marksman’s mouth parted, tongue slipping out to slide over the pad of his thumb before pressing a chaste kiss to it. 

“Guten morgen, my heart,” Medic breathed, observing him as his patient, his lover, and his masterpiece. “Are you doing alright?” He asked, watching Sniper yawn and move to get up, being politely halted by the doctor pressing a palm gently at the center of his chest. “Na, na, not yet.” He urged, watching as Sniper’s brow furrowed in silent protest, but he obeyed all the same. He instead opted to stretch, arching his back and blowing a puff of air out of his mouth. 

The bushman’s stomach puffed out as he stretched and held the arched position, lopsided and misshapen ribs stretching against his skin despite the fat that typically concealed them from view. Scars, a light sheen of sweat that kept his body hair slicked down, and a few stray smatterings of blood adorned his skin. He finally relaxed again, flopping gently onto the table with a small thud before reaching his arms up and stretching them as well, extending his legs out and popping his knees and hip.

“I’ve never known any creature as beautiful as you… look at you. I’d even call you demure if I swear you didn’t know you were such a knockout…”

The backs of Medic’s knuckles came down over Sniper’s jawline, down his neck and trailed over his body as he stretched, watching as his movements influenced the shadows and how they caressed his beloved. “How’d I do, pidge?” Sniper asked, putting a hand behind his own head while the other reached down and idly scratched at a bit of dried blood on his belly. He yawned again; Medic smiled. 

He never overdid it with the medigun use with Sniper, but when they weren’t in combat he found that consistent use of the gun’s rays regardless of frequency often left the huntsman a bit groggy. Very cute. “Perfectly, of course. I’d expect nothing less from my greatest achievement.” He purred, stroking the backs of his knuckles over Sniper’s y-shaped scar.

“Good. Want to stay in your good graces, keep my title.” He teased, grinning crookedly as Medic perked up and looked at him with a look of surprise, laughing loudly and shaking his head. Sniper watched the doctor and propped himself up on his elbows, leaning back against them as he tilted his head to the side. “Something funny?” He asked. “Anyone could’a been your greatest achievement. Unless you’re tellin’ me I have nothing to worry about?” His lip curled up into a bit of a smirk; when Sniper’s smugness came out to play, so did those marvelous canine teeth. Medic’s toes curled in his boots.

“If I got just once chance to prove to you how much you mean to me! You’re my whole world, and you don’t even know it! I almost want you to go on not knowing… I’m just that selfish!”

“Oh, you,” Medic sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with  a warm chuckle. He sat on the edge of the table and Sniper watched with a satisfied purr as the doctor’s fat thighs squished against the cold table. He giggled at the bushman’s shameless staring, hearing the EKG kick up just for a second. “That title will never belong to anyone but you.” He purred, leaning over Sniper and brushing their noses together. 

“Yeah?” The bushman asked, closing his eyes as he felt Medic gently urging him to lay down again by lightly pressing his forehead against his own. The doctor’s wide frame towered over him, obscured him in shadow and framed Medic’s head with a holy-looking crown of light. Sniper rested his hands on his own chest and let himself be mesmerized.

“Ja,” he confirmed, pressing a soft kiss against Sniper’s lips, kissing his bottom lip and taking him in another dizzying kiss right after. As if anyone else could truly carry such a title: important to Medic both romantically and professionally. Sniper was reborn of his own genius, sustained in part now by his own love, too. He grinned as he felt Sniper kissing the corner of his mouth, like an animal showing submission. After which, the huntsman claimed Medic’s lips in a tender kiss, claiming what he knew to be his. Medic did the same, kissing the canine tooth he adored so much before sliding his tongue against Sniper’s. Another successful procedure.

 “It’s always been you.”

[mangozic]

my dead goth son and his friendly neighborhood personified concept of insanity

[20000dollarnosebleed]

I love love love work onsites. Nothing is more validating than walking into a bar full of coworkers I haven’t seen in months and having no less than a dozen people LIGHT up and call my name in excitement

[nebudaze]

Keep rubbing it in, thank you very much.

[uglygirlstatus]

Bedtime Routine. my comic piece for @querermezines Kira Kira zine wheeeeee