#and the yuri return

[icarrymany]

the new ii ep yesssssss

[thefawnfallacy]

Yuri on Ice was such a life changing anime, especially to have experienced in real time waiting for those episodes to drop every week. It was an open acknowledgment and love letter to queerness, to valuing and creating art, to loving yourself and loving those around you and it’s no surprise that it had such a large impact on those who watched it. Not to mention how stunning it was to be presented with an open letter to queer love during a time where same sex marriage and gender equality was still a very hot and controversial topic. It’s, in its own way, nestled itself into history.

It may not be in the way we all expected or hoped, but see you next level.

[sainct]

my fave girls

[aloeville]

DRAW GAY

whip fantasies

(no thought bubble version below :p)

[nyaskitten]

THERE'S NO ACTUAL FUCKING SHOT??? YOU'RE JOKING DUDE YOU'RE GENUINELY JOKING.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik flies. Ghost pines. Price... considers.

cw: hints of a future polyamorous relationship.

“Whit's he daein'?” Soap asked, folding his arms and legs as he watched Nik in the near distance.

Price looked up from the report in his lap, roll up twitching between his lips. Nik was pacing back and forth, fists, hands and arms moving in rhythmic, practised motions in front of his chest, by his hips, occasionally twisting behind him. But there was no opponent, only the imaginary one in Nik's head in the shape of the jet he was about to fly. “Shadowboxin.”

“Aye, ah c’n see tha’, sir. How come?”

Simon shifted on Price's right. He had been watching Nik with a palpable hunger. Even with his mask, the intensity of his gaze was hard to miss. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost husky. Like he was wading out of deeper, warmer thoughts. “Trainin’ exercise to practice his spatial awareness, coordination, and muscle memory before gettin’ in the cockpit. That thing ain’t his Black Hawk. Whole different animal. Second fastest jet in service.”

“That thing? S’massive. Na wey it kin shift. He'd ‘ave more fun in an F-15.”

The Foxbat was the size of a World War II heavy bomber — nine feet longer than an Avro Lancaster, two and a half feet taller than a B-24 and with a gross weight almost twenty-seven thousand pounds heavier than a Boeing B-17. Price had seen old black and white photographs on Nik's phone of Soviet technicians servicing the damn thing; they’d looked like toy soldiers scurrying around in its shadow.

The ride in the MiG-25 was a gift from Laswell as a thank you for Nik's help on a black op. Not even Price knew much about it, but it had to have been gnarly for her to pull this many strings. The Foxbat was fully fuelled and Nik's flight plan had been filed. Nik was going to throw that tank of an aircraft around the skies like he was twenty-two again, and he'd been vibrating with excitement during the walk out.

“Big man, big plane,” Simon murmured, “and he's got’a special attachment to it, even though it's a bit shite.”

Price plucked his cigarette from his mouth and tapped the ash onto the concrete by his thigh, considering Simon closely. There had been a change in him recently, especially around Nik. He spent a lot of time watching Nik - all out staring, as Simon was prone to do - standing close to him during briefings, finding reasons to talk to him in down time. He was flirting without realising it. Price knew why. Nik had told him about the hair incident, and asked whether there was any possibility of enticing Simon into a little more.

Honestly? Price had laughed at the time. ‘Better chance of gettin’ a gobby off of Makarov’ had been his exact words. But now that he had watched Simon around Nik for a month, he wasn't so sure his initial assessment was accurate. Even now, his body was enticed towards Nik. His arms were folded but his posture was open, upper back against the wall but hips in Nik's direction, his feet spread, shifting and twitching like there was something bubbling beneath his skin.

“Oh aye? Why's he so keen on it then?” Soap asked, giving Simon the side eye. The sergeant wasn't thick; he'd seen it too.

“Foxbat scared the Americans shitless during the Cold War. They got these spy satellite photos showin’ that beast, engine intakes the size of small cars. Big wings, potential for more maneuverability ‘an the F-4 Phantom II. But a pilot called Viktor Belenko defected and showed her to be a dud. Wife divorcin’ him, disaffected with communist society. In 1976, he left his sortie and went to Japan. Landed at Hakodate, overran the runway, shut down with only thirty seconds of fuel remainin’. Handed ‘em a brand new Foxbat and a fockin’ trainin’ manual to dissect.”

Simon rattled it all off without pause, and Price had to fight his grin to keep his expression passive. Well, that bloody well confirmed it. Simon had hyperfixated on the plane that Nik treasured. There were probably several more encyclopedias worth of knowledge on the damn thing in his head, ready to use with Nik later. That was how Simon tried to connect with people; shitty jokes and learning about them through what they loved.

“‘Ow the fuck d’ye know all that?” Soap asked, smirking. He'd sussed it too.

“I read,” Simon said dryly. “Try it some time.”

“Och, baltic, sir.” Soap sniffed, head tilting the other way. “So, he feels some kinda kindred spirit with Belenko.”

Simon shrugged. “Maybe. Or he's a fockin’ plane nerd and flyin’ that thing would be like the old man wankin’ over those Nortons at Bletchley Park.”

“Yeah, wondered when it'd be my turn,” Price growled, rolling his eyes.

“At least it dunnae need a drip tray and a prayer to stay together, eh?”

“Ya tolkin’ about Price or the bikes?” Simon's head lolled to the side as he spoke, tone rife with wry amusement.

Soap cackled, and Price slapped the folder closed in his lap. “Olrigh’, can it, ya muppets.”

“Aye, sir. Ah, look, mus’ be his slot.”

They watched the Foxbat taxi down the runway under the direction of the flight crew, their exaggerated hand gestures and bouncing completely alien to the three soldiers sitting by the hanger but clearly recognisable to Nik, who made a hand gesture in return before he looked forward.

Price returned his cigarette to his mouth, leaning back to watch Nik climb the jet as the flight crew assembled. Time to take off. Nik bounced a little on his toes before he hauled himself up to the cockpit, shoving the headset and helmet on, aviators still in place because Nik was absolutely permitted his cornier foibles. This was a dream come true for him. Laswell had outdone herself.

Price grabbed the ear defenders nearby and chucked another set across to Soap; Simon was already prepared. The engines roared into life, making the air shimmer with heat and power, and the big jet accelerated down the runway, leaving the tarmac in one of the smoothest take offs Price had ever seen. Well, of course it was; it was Nik after all.

The Foxbat disappeared above the clouds quickly and Price glanced over at Simon. He didn't move until the grey smudge reappeared against the open skies further to the east. The jet rolled and banked, ascending almost vertical for a stall turn that made even Price's belly do a little flip. It shot back past the hanger, the sound of its engines lagging behind its visible position as Nik pushed it hard. Price wished he could hear Nik whooping and rambling in Russian; air traffic control were probably feeling a little uneasy.

Simon never dropped his chin. He remained stoic, his arms folded, but his mind was up in the clouds with Nik. They both were. The difference was that Price knew he would be unzipping that flight suit later and enjoying everything underneath, whereas Simon would deprive himself for fear of being hurt, no matter how much he wanted it. Price hummed, stubbing out his cigarette. Perhaps it was time to indulge Nik’s curiosity, and his own carefully managed and suppressed feelings. Simon wasn't the only one who had denied the obvious for self preservation.

Eventually, the flight had to come to an end. Nik brought the Foxbat down gently, the landing gear screeching against the tarmac briefly as Nik negotiated the short runway. He taxied back round to park her almost exactly where he had pulled away from, and Price smirked as the cockpit popped open and a jubilant Russian bounced up with a roar of triumph, big arms in the air.

Ghost stooped down to his bag and Price heard the tinkle of glass as he removed his ear defenders. Simon clutched four empty glasses in his big hands and jutted his chin at the Foxbat as he glanced down at Price. “Comin’?”

“Lead the way,” Price said, grunting as he rolled to his feet.

“Ey, where's the liquor?” Soap asked as he followed.

“Mechanics used t’ call this thing the Flyin’ Restaurant,” Price said. “The air-conditioning relies on evaporation of distilled water an’ about two hundred and forty litres of pure grain alcohol. She's still got some’uv the brew in her tank."

Soap’s nose wrinkled. “Ye hae tae be jokin’. Yer gonnae drink outta the feckin’ jet?”

“Abso-fockin’-lutely,” Simon said.

Nik greeted them with all the energy of an excited puppy, gesturing at the jet and spilling in and out of Russian and English like his brain was struggling to come down from the sky. His face lit up further when he spotted the glasses in Simon's hands, slapping the lieutenant on the shoulder with a surprised, booming laugh.

The air crew left them to it and Nik did the honours. It helped that the small bowsers used to refill the air-conditioning system had conveniently placed spigots to tap the Foxbat-shaped keg.

“Poyekhali!” Nik said before he knocked back his mouthful of Foxbat bloody moonshine. Soap choked and coughed on his, and Simon grunted in discomfort.

Price grinned, toasting his own. “Za zdorovye, comrade.” He took a deep breath before downing the lot. Oh it bloody burned.

[yinmeowjii]

lil redraw doodle based off of that one screenshot preview <3

[m1ssingirl]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲! ⋆˚✿˖°

“Do i look like your girlfriend?”

[doctahchang]

kathryn janeway my favourite heroine of a greek tragedy

song is alt-j - philadelphia

[yippee-optimistically]

small lightbrush dump bc i read the most immaculate fic of them last night and cant find anything else that good i havent read. im so obsessed w this yuri rn

[devotion-disorder]

do all the elves have a similar height range as in are they all tall?

yea!! they average around 180-210 cm in height

[ahoforaveryho]

The brick is canon to my version of Reverse Robins, only it's Cass who gets hit instead of Tim.

How did Cassandra Cain, the greatest fighter in the DCU, get hit in the face with a brick by a girl who barely knows how to throw a punch? Simple. When she unmasked Spoiler, she was distracted by a warm feeling in her chest that blossomed upon seeing her face. It was the single most embarrassing moment she had faced up to that point and the entire family had poked fun at her for it for years, even after they officially began dating.

That is, until a gang war erupted in Gotham and suddenly talking about Stephanie became too painful for the family to bear anymore.

[lovelyrottingcrows]

that's right, I drew Yuri (not just the chr)

This might be the funniest art meme to ever exist

og from Twitter

[schwarzgeier]

GEIER SQUAD TIMEEEEEE

I felt bad not really making a full squad for my original Geier , Null, so here they all are! Biggg Lore yap under cut

S-12 on Leng is a remote underground facility specializing in waste managment and serves as a connecting hub for smaller facilities around Leng. The Geiers here were deployed first after signs of potential bioresonant infection that they have been able to contain for now, while also coincidently helping with the waste incineration. Sierpinski-12s remote location was also chosen for it's natural secrecy and level of freedom to experiment with the Geiers anti-bioresonant modules by putting them up againts the local Commander/Kolibris.

And as you may notice , aside from Null, all the Geiers are nicknamed after different types of metal. This is due to their small. Incident when on their very first assingment of clearing out the infested lower levels, while cornering their enemies and burning them , they produced so much heat and flames they basically burned down the metal walls of the room . Literally melted it all off. The 4 new fledglings found it cool to name themselves after metals . Null was not there and already had a name.

GEIR LS12 - 000 - "NULL" -

The first ever succesfuly deployed Geier to service . Was originaly deployed as a solo unit until AEON came to the conclusiom GEIRs work best in squads of 5 and Null was given additonal 4 squadmates . Null is what most associate when thinking of a Geier unit. Quiet , stoic but not rude . Keeps to herself unless provoked . Incredibly numb to most events happening around her, mostly due to the bioresonant supressor module being so strong for the first deployments. Wears her mask often as a form of comfort . Special to her though is her one-on-one spar sessions with the Commander every week . They are heavily classified and they happen in isolation from other replikas. These spars are often the highlight of the week for both Null and Falke , they can both go full out on eachother with no restraints. Rest of the Nulls cadre often tease her for having "longer sessions" with Falke then anyone else but Null isn't bothered. Her Cadre is there , they stand all together and she will die for them if needed. Just don't expect her to gush. Or talk about the pret- i mean respected Commander

GEIR LS12 - 003 - "KOBALT"

GEIR LS12 - 004 - "ALLOY"

First of the new additions to S-12, Kobalt ! She's often identifiable by her tendency to growl or mutter out responses and her seemingly constant frown. She's not as reactive as a Storch ofc , still a Geier. She , similair to Null, likes sparring and getting her armor dented in any way she can , which often leads to her trying to spar with Null since she's the most experienced. Null entertains her sometimes but it keeps ending with Kobalt in a leg lock . With her being the most reactive , Kobalt is often the Geier that yanks Aras from vents or stares at a suspiscious gestalt with a glare so strong they can piss themselves . She's working on it but since she hasn't hurt anyone really yet , a firm scolding is the most she got. She barks at strangers like a dog but doesn't have the confidence yet to bite.

The resident "softie" of the group , well as much of a softie as a Geier can be. She still can bend a replikas spine in half . But in general she has become the go to Geier for all the Eules or Aras searching for any help. Moving boxes ? She'll grab em all. Scary sounds in the vents? Checks em out , no questions asked. Someone (she doesn't know who still) left her a fuzzy blanket as a gift for the help and she has fallen in love with it since . It led to an almost comical scene of all the Geiers gathering around her bunk , poking and proding the blanket in confusion. Often she chooses to tie her hair a bit lower for identification . Alloy is just a pretty reserved girl that needs lot of coaxing to speak her mind. She's reliable , watches her strength and just doesn't want suprises.

GEIR LS12 - 005 - "SILVER"

GEIR LS12 - 003 - "COPPER"

Silver may be named after the shiny pretty silverwear that draws your attention but it funnily enough became more associated with her. Tounge iykwim. Her tendency to give blunt compliments catches lot of people off guard but I suppose it's a side effect of her gay brain and a very blunt Geier brain. Doesn't take stuff too seriously and kinda goes through her job like a dad at a barbeque in a hawain t-shirt . She's the most recognizable from the cadre having a visible burn scar on her entire left forearm from an accident that happened during flamethrower/gas tank maintnence. Not many spare GEIR arms laying around so scars it is. This also started her small. Masochism streak? Silver is the only one who finds the numbness a bit bothersome sometimes , and physical sensations of any kind are the easiest avenue to feel. Anything really. She controls it of course but indulgances happen. During downtime Silver loves letting down her hair and lounging around or watching other replikas in their activities. Eules dancing , Stars shooting or her fellow Geiers relaxing . Or "accidently" flirting with anything within her vascinity coughcough

Biggest stick up her ass . Or at least she acts like it fjfjf. Cooper is. A bit of a weirdo among the Geiers but not a bad one. Sticking to protokols and rules is her way of keeping the peace and prevents any scuffles from happening . Her duty to nation and law creates bit of a conflict inside her head,which in Geiers often results to a borderline brain shutdown. Contradiction should not be possible yet Copper has them. Being drawn to the burnt corpses that she leaves behind , catching herself wanting to make exceptions to rules for her close ones or her weakness to shiny trinkets , all of these little habits make her spiral sometimes. She is fully capable of marching up to the Commander and begging for her decommisioning. She hasn't of course , yet , mostly cause part of her is too embarrased to admit she finds her constant thoughts about Kolibris cute height kinda heretical .

Sorry for the big yap

[neurotonic]

ok so, apparently I never posted THIS cutie patootie publicly. I kept telling myself I should post it but, well!! I forgor.

Anyways this is Crabicator, aka Crabby! Born from an idea where Fabricator realized Prism left some of her spare parts in her workshop. If Fabby was an outstanding Zoraxis employee (and she is. Or she's supposed to be.), she should've definitely thrown away those parts by now. Pointless scrap from an equally pointless engineer.

And somehow Fabby ends up with a mishmash of a robot in her workshop. More info about it below the cut because I rambled a bit HEH + some concept sketches on its design!

Crabby's functionality is a Bit limited when compared to Prism's dearest robots. It can't float properly and upgrades are a bit sparse. But Fabby did make some modifications to the kinesium core so that it doesn't have to overheat when it does a blasty blast. Also it Knows a little bit of bartending, but the only recipe it knows to make, like, properly is Water on the Rock. where the water is poured in a glass with one singular ice cube. And Fabby is very proud of it, thank you very much.

It also has jank memories of Prism's programming inside its head. It's barely comprehensible to it now, and it doesn't remember anything concrete. It makes Crabby wonder, sometimes, what Dr. Prism was really like. If she'd like to meet Crabby. Fabby doesn't seem to want to answer its questions about her.

Fabricator also claims it's a weapon of mass destruction but if we're being honest, she's just saying that so nobody in Zoraxis has a reason to throw it away. In reality crabby's like this:

also, some old concept sketches for different robot scrap combos, but the tripod crab won the baby vote.

also shout out to @the-valiant-valkyrie and @mothbeasts for giving me a hand in building this robuddy, no pun intended B)

[azadrithaanatheme]

Unexpected Reunion (Part 1)

part 1 | part 2 - click the images for better quality

First post of 2025 and it's Old Woman Yuri, as robo-god intended.