#a little early but sure

[ghostoffuturespast]

Writers, post the last sentence you wrote from your WIP

Tagged by @scarlettspectra. Thank you!

Green reflects off the pool’s surface, flux transposed across the ceilings and walls.

Tagging whoever wants to do this... ☞⁠￣⁠ᴥ⁠￣⁠☞ 🎧

[spocks-kaathyra]

experimenting w making little trek dolls for the STLV craft swap :))

[s0fter-sin]

soap's whole deal being sniper and demolitions gets me going bc on the surface they sound so different but when you get into it, you realise it's bc soap's smart

sniping is all math; calculating distances and wind interference and bullet drop. something i think people overlook is he was listed as a sniper first so it can be implied that he's better at it than demolitions. he does more sniping in both campaigns than demolitions work; in capture or kill, ghost specifically calls on him to take down the aq snipers

and demolitions is math with a hit of chemistry; knowing what mixes with what, knowing how much to use, recognising environmental factors and adjusting accordingly. it's not just about the boom; so much work goes into contained/ planned explosions. especially when having enough power for a breacher charge and not bringing down the whole building is the difference between mission success and failure

the chemical bombs he makes in alone can't just be any old cleaners, they have to have the correct reaction to each other; he just knew off the top of his head what would mix with what to create what reaction. he would also potentially have to recognise them by sight/smell bc they would’ve been written in spanish

soap would also have to know architecture; recognising structural integrity and weak points so he knows exactly where to plant a charge to bring it down and how it'll come down

he has an incredible soldier's mind people just forget that bc he's sociable which itself is a skill

we know he tends to buck against orders he doesn't agree with like when he pushes back against ghost in capture or kill and shepherd when he tells them to release hassan

he gets closer to people and sees if he can trust them and that's when he follows them without question. really think about how he talks to alejandro and rudy; he asks about their home and alejandro's family and rudy's relationship with him. those aren't questions you ask a stranger after a few hours of knowing them. that's not even touching on his relationship with ghost

he also deliberately brings people of higher ranks down to his level; talking informally with ghost and giving him a shoulder punch, addressing alejandro (a colonel!!) by his first name and rudy by his nickname despite literally just meeting them. he personalises all of them and it’s in direct opposition to the reason most characters do that; it’s not due to insubordination or lack of respect, the more he respects and trusts someone, the more casual he is with them

he digs into people; he wants to know what makes them tick and that determines if he can one, trust them and two, follow their orders. once he decides that, he's the ultimate soldier; he bleeds loyalty which makes him vicious when that loyalty is taken for granted

he isn't naive or bubbly or insecure; he's an incredibly smart and aware soldier. he's aggressive and bloodthirsty and loyal and intuitive and i love him so much

[lowpolyanimals]

Big Bad Wolf from The Three Little Pigs

[starflungwaddledee]

did you know that coo is canonically lonely? {shipaganza prompt by @veveisveryuncool}

[hyohaehyuk]

Lovingly gazing into your coworkers eyes while he's talking about the sexual and emotional tension of your characters is crazy 🙃

JA: Yeah, and then also playing that off against that tension and the aftermath of some of those fights. It suddenly rebuilds this sexual and emotional tension. Like you said, you get to explore the breadth of a relationship. But yeah, they’re each other’s endgame, aren’t they? In the books, they always come home to each other. I think it’s telling that that seems to be the denouement or the end of a lot of the novels: Louis and Lestat being petty and in love.

cut via wolfganglestat

transcriptions by greedandenby

Full video (unfortunately i can't find the original source so i am linking 2 videos posted by fans on yt):

Interview With The Vampire | Nicole Drum from Comicbook.com talks with Jacob Anderson and Sam Reid

[landinrris]

Carlando Football AU: The Early Years

[sampilled]

whenever sam brings up his childhood, its always like "awww so cute <3333" followed by "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST" approximately 2 seconds later

like "awww he had an imaginary friend, thats so sweet! i love sully!" and then "oh jesus, his imaginary friend is real and was there to fill in the gaps so that sam didn't fall through them :((("

or "aww sam had a dog friend" followed by "sam lived with his dog friend in an abandoned house cause he ran away for TWO WEEKS, apparently one of his happiest childhood memories wtf"

or "awww dean read to him" and then "oh the whole time he was thinking about how he was dirty and wrong haha 0_0"

[lesbian-sunshim]

see art up to the day before or leave a tip!

rare pairs for your consideration 9/50 - celestia x sunset shimmer

[shalpilot]

just close enough to disgust you

[cozylittleartblog]

you guys know the 1920s and 30s existed before v*vziepop right

[zentriii]

atsumu groans when light fills up his room. his head's submerged in the clouds and all he knows is that he's going to have to call out of practise today. fuck.

the sheets beside him are barely warm so he forces his eyes open and rubs the crust out with the back of his hand. what kiyoomi won't see can't hurt him. his phone reads 6:23. at least he's awake early enough that kiyoomi hasn't left yet.

the process of brushing his teeth and throwing a pair of clean, non-sweaty pants on feel like they take up five years. there's a fit of nausea trying to make itself known in his stomach but he wants to see kiyoomi off.

"how're you feeling?" kiyoomi asks, filling a plate up with eggs.

"like i wanna be run over by a car." atsumu finds that to be more of an honest statement than he thought it was. he can barely stand up but the unsteadiness of walking over is daunting.

"do you think you can eat some eggs?" there's a small gesture towards the plate in his hands but fuck – the thought alone of how greasy the butter is, the strong flavours of salt and pepper – he could puke.

"i dunno if i could keep 'em down t'be honest," he mumbles, shame churning in his gut. it's not the first time kiyoomi's seen him sick – but it's the first time since they started living together. there's nowhere to hide in their apartment.

"try?" and it's that classic Omi-Pout™ that has him folding. a little because it's cute. a little because he still feels like he's imposing sometimes. a little because he refuses to live with regrets – if all there is, is here and now, atsumu knows he'll be upset if kiyoomi becomes upset too.

there isn't much else for him to do but shrug helplessly and unstick his feet from the ground. walking isn't too bad after the first step – or with company.

the toaster pops off and kiyoomi quickly adds those to his plate before atsumu can even finish washing his hands – as if he'd refuse anything more once he sat down. kiyoomi's not wrong, but still! it's the principle of the matter – wait is atsumu internally trying to convince himself that kiyoomi should consider him a simp? that that's how he wants to be seen?

does he? he does not. (does he?)

atsumu is very confused on which side he's on right now and comes to the conclusion that his head hurts so he will not be thinking further on this matter. he sits down.

kiyoomi's long since scurried off to grab his gym bag and change out of his pjs but despite atsumu's 23 years of life – he misses him. his company's a quiet but solid one and the warmth that atsumu always feels from beside him leaves in exchange for a cold chill. the egg starts tasting more bland.

surprisingly enough – flavour-wise it isn't all that rich to begin with. kiyoomi's the type to overdo quite literally everything when it comes to food, and even though atsumu was expecting something more mellowed out in terms of taste, it's super easy on his stomach.

he wants to ask but kiyoomi beats him to it, walking out of their room and ready for the day. "i used less salt and pepper and cooked it on oil instead of butter. are you alright to finish it?"

atsumu's stomach turns into a mess for a whole new reason and there's tears pricking at his eyes that he ignores. "yeah," he croaks, voice far too fragile to say any more.

"i called coach already, i left some medicine on your nightstand and – rest well okay?" kiyoomi's brows furl and it rushes into atsumu all at once how far kiyoomi's going for him.

kiyoomi who hates being sick, hates the idea of even getting sick. kiyoomi who's been playing nurse since atsumu woke them both up in the middle of the night with a sudden fever, not once complaining about being in close contact with him.

"omi-kun–" atsumu's voice warbles. he's gonna regret this later but he's. he's not even sure what he wants to say but he feels steady enough on his feet thanks to the food kiyoomi carefully made.

"i'll be back soon yeah?" and it's the way kiyoomi doesn't make a step to the door that brings words flooding out of atsumu.

"i'll be waitin' at home for ya." there's a silent moment where he wonders if he chose wrong, if kiyoomi wasn't really ready to refer to his apartment as theirs. it's only been two months since he–

"yeah, love you." atsumu hates how he can't smother kiyoomi's stupid pretty little face in kisses so instead he engraves the curve of kiyoomi's pleased and wobbly smile into his mind.

atsumu knows his face is just as sappy. he can't quite find it in himself to care.

"love you too."

[wizzard890]

And I saw another beast come up out of the earth...and he spake as a dragon. (Revelation 13:11)

.

The Coronation of His Majesty King Bastian I - The Hour of Wolves

When he was born he was a small thing. A screaming infant, a second son, destined perhaps for military greatness, but never dukedom. Never inheritance. Never conquest.

But at the inception of the light, the birth of the world, the moment between silence and splendor when The Glory breathed across the scope of creation: he was no small thing then.

Even then, he was coming.

His rise runs with blood: knives in the back, poison, betrayal, kidnapping and vengeance.

His rise burns with greatness: glory, family, rescue, love and ferocity.

The secret world recognized him before he knew himself. A fairy witch marked his passing and offered her slender wrist for his talons. A dead sun opens its mouth for him, a vanished Christ is his counterpart, a death knight worships before him, a raven-haired little girl holds the hand of her doting and beloved father.

The world we know calls him king of France, the monarch of a seized throne, a general who has promised the great lords England on its knees.

The Devil, in his own tongue, may call him son. The Glory has said nothing.

Would you know him if you saw him? Would you recognize what he is?

Bow, while you consider, and kiss his ring. There is a crown of flame upon his brow.

[feroluce]

So this ficlet-ish thing was inspired by @hydrachea, nsfw super genius extraordinaire, but also by the fact that in addition to Boothill's left eye being cybernetic, I like to hc even the parts of him that look human aren't fully natural. I mean the dude eats bullets, after all. I think he should also have vents in his mouth so he can literally blow smoke/steam, it would look super cool. Think Father Gascoigne or Studio BONES' Todoroki. We as a fandom deserve that!!

So anyway, of course, sometimes these vents get blocked up and need to be cleaned manually. Thankfully, Dan Heng is super helpful ☆

Like there's one day where Boothill is lazing around in the archives, fresh off a bounty and happily soaking up the luxury of the Astral Express after however long he's spent tracking his prey through all the dust and dirt with almost no rest.

Boothill likes it in the archives. It's not silent, but it's quiet. There's no music and only muffled voices from outside, but there's the hum of all the computer systems. It makes for a nice place to hide away and recharge when he's just finished exhausting himself.

And besides, Dan Heng is there.

Sometimes the two of them talk back and forth, but today it's mostly quiet...except for-

"I didn't know it was possible for you to get sick."

...Except for Boothill having to constantly clear his throat. That's the thing about your mark trying to flee into the desert. You either go after them and get sand everywhere (and even worse, sticky sand once it gets all bloody) or you wuss out and lose out on the bounty. Personally, Boothill likes being able to afford to eat.

"Grit's stuck in a vent somewhere, 'n' the usual maintenance ain't gettin' it. I'll prob'ly have ta manually dig it out." But later, when he's not laid out half asleep on Dan Heng's extra futon. Usually after a chase as long as this one took, he can shut down for almost a full day. He doesn't want to get up yet.

Something shadows over him, and reflex demands Boothill's eye open. Dan Heng steps around him on his way to some drawer built in the wall on the other side of the room or something. Boothill closes his eye again.

From under his hat he hears the sounds of rummaging, drawers sliding open and shut, the swish of a long coat. The shadow returns.

"Sit up, just momentarily. I have something to help." And Boothill groans a tired don't wanna, but he does it anyway, he hauls himself upright into a kneel. And then he sits up a little straighter because he realizes Dan Heng is standing right over him.

Dan Heng tells him "open your mouth," and Boothill's jaw pops open without his permission, without even a second thought, and hey, what protocol in there ok'd THAT?!?!

Before he can really unpack whatever the heck that just was, though, Dan Heng murmurs for him to say so if he needs them to stop, and then he's sliding a long, hard rod down Boothill's throat, tipped with some soft little brush he probably uses for all his fancy archival equipment.

Dan Heng tells him the handle of the brush is straight and can't be bent, he needs to move his head to be able to reach the vent in his throat. Boothill hums affirmatively; he can't do anything else with his mouth occupied.

Dan Heng's free hand holds him by his jaw, tilts it up slowly but firmly so he has to look straight up at him.

Boothill feels dizzy.

The cycle of blue blood through his artificial heart whirrs just a bit faster, his temperature sensor pings an internal alarm to warn for imminent overheating. Boothill curls his fingers into the guard over his knee as Dan Heng carefully brushes at the dust irritating him. All other sounds- the hum of running equipment, the occasional beep from the computers, the noise of the crew outside of this room- seem to pull away, until all Boothill can focus on is the steady and measured breathing from the man above him.

"Almost done."

Thank the aeons, maybe one of them likes him after all.

"Your tongue is in the way... I'm going to hold it down, ok?"

Nevermind.

The fingers holding his jaw curl around his chin, thumb slipping past open lips to dip into his mouth and pin down his tongue. One of his teeth catch on the digit, breaking skin just enough to bleed a drop where he can taste it. Dan Heng doesn't even flinch. Another temperature alarm pings off in his brain, then another, then another.

Boothill has never been shy about eye contact but oh, god, it nearly kills him when dull green irises flick away from their task and look down right at him as his mouth is held open. He quickly squeezes his own eye shut for some relief.

With his vision cut off, the rest of his senses automatically recalibrate to compensate. He can hear every breath even more distinctly now, every soft inhale and exhale, feel the strain in his neck, the softness of the brush, the hard floor beneath his knees, the hand holding his jaw and the fingerprints that feel like they should leave burns in his skin, the taste of Dan Heng heavy on his tongue-

Forget it, eye open, eye open!!

"Alright. There's one last pebble stuck."

Boothill had been trained to endure torture, back on his homeworld. It was part of being in a gang, part of being a bounty hunter.

Somehow, keeping himself quiet and still as Dan Heng inches the brush even further down the back of his throat is a profoundly similar experience.

The seconds tick by, Dan Heng's brow furrowing, face growing ever more concentrated and Boothill struggles not to watch him too closely, fights down the noise that suddenly tries to escape him as the brush withdraws-

"Swallow."

Stars and aeons, Dan Heng is going to be the death of him.

Boothill swallows. He feels it when the movement finally dislodges the loosened pebble from his vent.

His face feels shockingly cold now bereft of touch, even though Dan Heng's hands are always cool. He asks to see, and Boothill's mouth is already open again to show him, even as he belatedly realizes he could have just told him it had worked.

"Good." There's the slightest smile on Dan Heng's lips as he finally, mercifully, leans back out of his personal space, goes to put away the brush. "That should feel better now." Boothill spends a moment dizzy and dazed, feeling the need to blink spots out of his eye even though his vision is clear. He still hasn't moved off his knees.

What the fudge.

[cipher-fresh]

there should have been a 13th Doctor episode where the Doctor had to hide the fact that she was an alien, as she might be on an alien database, so she introduces herself to the episode's guest cast as John Smith. It's to other non-humans, so nobody bats an eye about the name John being the 'wrong' gender. the Fam are puzzled but go with it.

[tabithatwo]

(x)

(this is a pls stop blaming juliette lewis for nat’s arc and death post <3)