#and dad in rat

[haveihitanerve]

Ok so we all know the headcannon of Gregor calling ripred dad at some moment and it’s all like sweet and everything 

But imagine they’re having like game night or smth or ripred just cut a rat in half with his tail and Gregor stops, looks him dead in the eye and goes

"what the fuck [ripreds name but in rat]”

and ripred fucking loses it.

[mrjeremyman]

RAT DAD GHOST!!! HE HAS MANY RATS THEY’RE HIS FAMILY!!!

Phillip: absolute trouble maker, will escape and will cause chaos. Has to be separated from the group sometimes because he will start fights.

Gregory: Polite and gentle young lad, loves his berries. Ghost tends to let first time rat handlers hold him first to get a feel as Gregory isn’t fussy.

Ivo: Most skittish but over all nice. Never bites, will go bald soon.

Toms: most energetic and curious rat, is usually the one scrapping with Phillip. Fussy eater, might bite of feeling moody. But on a good day, very happy to get pets and to be held. Might run away if too excited.

I love them. So much.

[waokevale]

Ratau raises baby lamb au (Prequel) 👍

I got bored of fluff and humor and I'm making up for it with angst and bittersweetness.

[poppitron360]

I love the Lost Trio bc you’ve got Piper, who grew up with immense wealth and fame and could have everything she ever wanted, Jason, who was revered for his parentage, looked up to and respected as a leader and even raised aloft on a golden shield and proclaimed Praetor, and then you’ve got Leo, who lived under a bridge and had to fight off racoons for leftovers in dumpsters.

[yaolmao]

WHERE’S THEIR HAPPY ENDING??

[constantfragmentation]

IDC, Young Silco was a big-nosed, hottie nerd rebel.

Look at that super thick, luscious hair. Chiseled features. Deep-set, bedroom eyes. Graceful in every movement. Yet bandaged up, so you know he got up close and personal with shit.

There's no way in hell he wasn't gett'n it.

[smolestboop]

the scene where emily snuck into corvo's room because she couldnt sleep and has nightmares....(pans to me on the floor sobbing)

[rabiesram]

dad flinky dad flinky

[sweeneydino]

Don’t fuck with the rat dad.

Template and og

[dragon-64]

I need Jod and Ezra to have a heart-to-heart about being orphans of the Jedi. Meanwhile Thirty-Three and Hondo are pirating it up and drinking and singing shanties.

[livwritesstuff]

I have to imagine that, by necessity, Steve and Eddie’s parenting method includes a healthy amount of dishonesty, especially when their kids are teenagers.

Like, I’m picturing– 

Moe: You’re telling me you never smoked when you were a teenager?

Eddie: Nope. Never. Not even once.

*LATER*

Steve: You fucking hypocrite

Eddie: What, you want me to tell our sixteen-year-old that when I was her age I was dealing ketamine and hotwiring cars while stoned out of my fucking mind?

Eddie: Might I remind you there’s a vault of information our children don’t know about you, Mister Keg King

Steve: Watch your mouth

[r0tting-rat]

"Too much?"

A little gift for @/ping-ski, who is driving me absolutely mad with their Sugar Daddy!Eclipse to the point I couldn't help but to write down a short drabble. Some details below for those who aren't familiar with their wonderful au (GO CHECK IT OUT RN PLEASE IT'S WORTH IT)

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Eclipse (by @ping-ski) x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Suggestive, use of alcohol/reader is tipsy. Also, sorry Pingu, he might be a bit ooc! I wasn't sure how flirty I could make him Words: 1200+ Summary: It's the winder holidays, and you just came home after a long evening spent with your dear beloved. Additional tags: Established relationship, Eclipse is a wonderful father, the kid's name is Atlas.

The weather outside is frigid, wind is howling against the tall windows, but the inside of Eclipse's house is warm and inviting. You've just come home after a very long evening with your beloved, an evening that left you feeling elated and giddy like a highschooler—a time of your life that you have long left behind, even though your cheeks still have the habit of warming up whenever your robotic lover looks your way and your stomach flutters at each time you kiss. You have waved goodbye to Esther, Atlas' nanny, just a few minutes before, and she has assured you that the little boy has been fast asleep for a few hours already. You don't miss how Eclipse smiles when she tells him how the boy asked for his "papa" before falling asleep.

"I'll cook him his favourite breakfast tomorrow," he says, more to himself than to you or Esther, "As an apology for my tardiness."

The house is silent, Atlas is soundly sleeping, and you have drunk a little more than usual at the restaurant. For no real reason! It was just a very good wine: fruity, amazingly aged, heavy on the tongue and warm in the gullet. You can still feel it when you swallow down the bile forming in the back of your throat—which is a lot, considering you have stared at Eclipse for the entire ride home, lost in the thought of kissing him as soon as his face turned your way.

You sigh as you step into your shared house, not worried about waking Atlas with the sound of your shoes on the marbled floor thanks to the good soundproofing of the rooms, and you decide to go sit on the couch to rest your tired feet. You and Eclipse had decided to take a walk around the city centre after leaving the restaurant, simply to enjoy the Christmas decorations that have been put up in every corner of the city, and before you knew it you were about to collapse. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop on the soft cushions of the couch, but a cold hand catches you by the waist before you can truly be enveloped by the rich fabrics. Unsurprised, you open your eyes just to find an amused Eclipse staring right back down at you, half-lidded eyes and soft silicone lips extremely close to your flushed face—blush still caused by the alcohol, mind you—he chuckles, and the flush deepens just enough to reach your neck and chest. Eclipse's eyes travel down a moment to follow it as it spreads like ink on your soft skin, and you pretend not to notice that he never really goes back to look you in the eyes, stopping instead on your lips.

"How about a dance?" he asks, out of the blue, and you giggle.

"Dancing with no music? How romantic, Eclipse," you say, before realizing he's completely serious.

The animatronic hums, and immediately his grip on your waist strengthens, and that's your only warning before he pulls you back on your feet to sweep you into a mind-twisting dance. You don't understand where he's taking you, you don't understand what's around you, all you know is that one of his hands is holding one of yours, while the other is placed on the small of your back. You dance in the middle of the large living room, feeling wine-red clouds crowding your mind and your sight slightly unfocusing, and you couldn't be happier.

You don't even have to actually do anything; Eclipse has a firm hold on you, and he's always careful not to spin you too fast, in case it could upset your stomach. All you have to do is let yourself go—one hand on one of his upper arms, one of his shoulder—and allow him to manhandle you into beautiful twirls and languid strides. You rest your head on his warm chest, hearing his inner gears and pistons at work, and the world around you is so hazy you might forget it exists. You sigh and think that maybe that's actually all you need in life: a cold evening, a warm embrace, some soothing wine, and Eclipse's love.

The dance stops after just 5 minutes—which feel like hours to you—and you and your partner simply stand one in the other's arms, like two lovers painted by Klimt, sharing the same passion, familiarity, and devotion. Except, differently from Klimt's picture, your beloved is holding you with four arms instead of two.

"How do you feel?" asks Eclipse after a long pause, and the only answer you can manage to utter is a murmur, "I didn't hear you, my dearest."

"Amazingly," you finally say, groggily looking up at him, "I wanna kiss you."

"Sounds like a perfect plan," he grins, "But how do you plan to enact it? Can you even reach my face?"

He laughs, and, a little offended, you do kiss him. You stand on your tippy toes, you crane your neck, and kiss his jaw; the only spot your lips can reach, but it's enough to make him stop and look down at you, surprised that you actually took the lead.

"Wanna try again, love?" he teases, having already recovered from your kiss, leaning down a little, "Or do I need to pick you up?"

His laugh is mocking, and once more you consider showing him what you're actually capable of—should you climb him like a tree? The idea is tempting—until you stop and actually think about his words.

"Yes," you say, parting from him just to look at his beautiful mismatched eyes. "I do, actually."

Eclipse stops laughing, then hums, growing more amused by the second.

"Okay."

In less than a second you're hoisted up between his bulky arms, legs on either side of his hips, face right in front of his, and your arms thrown over his shoulders.

"Much better," you smile sweetly at him, slowly letting your hands wander to the back of his head, then to his bottom rays, which you caress with a lot of care, and lastly to his neck. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, my doll," he sing-songs, not really noticing what you're doing with your fingers until his tie comes undone on his chest and his elegant button-up opens, letting the vents placed on the side of his chest breathe in fresh air. He looks down, seeing your fingers tracing his torso while unbuttoning his shirt, and his black and golden optics widen with interest. It's your turn to grin.

"Too much?" you ask, and Eclipse begins to make a rumbling sound with his voicebox, a sound that reminds you of a purr, deep and warm when it resonates with your chest and stomach.

"Not enough," he whispers, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, toying with your breath with the way you're holding it back, afraid he could sense through it exactly how much you craved him. His voice is low, dangerous, and you feel it vibrate in the depths of your mind when he speaks. "Not nearly enough, not in any way, my doll. Let me kiss you properly this time, will you?"

You all should thank @hexcii cuz I started writing this drabble during one of our simping sessions (we take turns rambling and yapping about the dca) and yea. we both got the i'm-gay-for-robots virus.

[hasello]

more Franklin shenanigans!

I saw that cover and I just had to lmao (I loved that book as a kid tho)

Also, here is how Raph broke his arm.

[novasteri]

Hey guys it's Lamb's dad!!!

[o-vera-nalyzing]

my biggest aftg head canon is that andrew is just a silly little guy—like his meds didn’t change his personality he was just more easily distractable and had less of a filter so all the stupid little jokes he made are his own

[crownedcrowrow]

Hello and welcome to Crow slowly trying to teach themself to draw more regularly after not drawing for a few months because of school

Here have babies

And I'll throw in some rat dad while I'm here

Now I slither back into my cave