#can it be enough lol
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lunapwrites · 2 months ago
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2024 stop fucking sucking challenge
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noka-exe · 1 month ago
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Damian Wayne comes across a classic christmas carol known well among the children of gotham… pt [1/?]
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keferon · 11 days ago
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Don’t mind me I just like to see him go bananas about cartoonish Autobot rules
Maaan…..if Prowl was in tfp he would spontaneously combust at least once a day
#maccadam#transformers#prowl#tf prowl#there is no Prowl in Tfp so Optimus can pull all kinds of heroic cartoonish bullshit#and only Ratchet actually calls him out on it#but Ratchet also kinda has soft spot for Optimus#Op does sad eyes and Ratchet is like okay okay sorry I understand#Prowl would see the whole situation and lose his marbles immediately ahahahah#lol hey hey you. two people who read tags. imagine little au realquick#Autobots find the escape pod with Smokescreen right#but there’s two bots instead of one#back on the base humans look at the new guys and like#Smokey is fun and energetic and eager for heroism and adventure#and then there’s Prowl. The final boss. The ultimate MOM.#He makes one step into base and immediately starts scolding Optimus and everyone except for Ratchet#agent Fowler listens to him talking and decides that Prowl is his favorite autobot#damn. Prowl would SO not approve keeping humans around. Kids would hate him#but also he would be completely right. Because by keeping humans that close Autobots basically show that the humans can be used as leverage#against them you know.#He would immediately suggest getting rid of kids and hiring actual competent adults instead. So all hacking can be done by professionals#and all infiltrating can be done by people who are at least old enough to drink you know#yea kids would haaaate him so much#he would also build make all kinds of little annoying gadgets bc I have read Covenant of Primus and tfp Prowl is smart like that#he would be going around sticking trackers on every enemy he fights#and then triangulating Cons positions by the coordinates where their signals stop tracking#bc Nemesis blocks them#He would also keep sending Smokey to ghost through walls and steal all kinds of valuable shit from Megsy#they would be such a menace together#man this is getting kinda long I should probably stop
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ozymandien · 27 days ago
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chef with a silver earring
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zekuto · 1 year ago
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i was obsessed the first time i saw someone post leon on that stupid panda rocker but i was never able to find raw footage of it lol, so i decided to compile leon with all the playground interactions because i love him <3
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bacchuschucklefuck · 6 months ago
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no more fan-ta-sizing about it! everything's already changed~
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#figueroth faeth#riz gukgak#adaine abernant#fabian seacaster#gorgug thistlespring#kristen applebees#fh class quangle#my! class swap thing! I guess this is like the poster for it now#got overinvested and finished it properly instead of winging it lol#in closeup order: cleric!gorgug; bard!riz; rogue!fabian; sorcerer!kristen; barbarian!fig; artificer!adaine#this one does have the harpoon gun I'd give fabian during sophomore year but literally only figured out for this piece lol#I like how it looks tho Im glad I hashed it out#thinking abt power armor adaine a lot tbh... she has the transhumanist audacity. she's villain-adjacent enough#to attempt unspeakable acts of body improvement#(its funny bc to wear a rig like that would Also demand a certain level of physical strength from you)#also yeah this is the thing with riz holding a megaphone that got me considering#its fun! it fits the aesthetics! maybe it'd grant him range for bardics#maybe he gets to keep that Im just not sure how he'd carry it around lol#fig gets to have all of her makeup... I like almost never remember to draw it usually kdsjfhdjk listen. I just forgor#I always forget makeup is real#also dont ask me what's in kristen's thermos it Is usually tea but you truly never know#sometimes its soup. it can be lighter fluid. soap perhaps. hot chocolate#also if u come knocking on my door abt kristen's somatic in this piece: I wont be home#she gets to be gross especially bc shes funny and 17yo and gay. we give it to her#okay I. whoo I should lay down. finally I can move on to other things#cheers! wahoo. yahha perhaps
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chrisrin · 4 months ago
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all my behind-the-scenes concept work and such for the HGCZ! i had a blast working on it all.
check out my finished piece here, and check out @hotguycomiczine for the full zine!
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ibahibut · 4 months ago
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🦅 🐦‍⬛ 💀
I did try.. welp! Love wins yeah! No worries, i still love all of the Veilguard's companions. I wish i can play & love em all! Based on The Breaking Ice poster. Looks cosy & calm movie, me likey especially its ot3 👀. The no-edit version
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shouyuus · 1 month ago
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18+, pitfighter!vi brainrot, bc its girl-dinner time tw: sorta smut, sorta obsessive!vi, codependent relationship, not quite yandere but the vibes r kinda there, but still fluffy bc im me duh
pitfighter!vi who fucks you like she's trying to leave a part of herself inside you, who holds you so hard that the next morning, you wake up to the blue-tinted ghosts of her fingers along your hips and thighs, the dull blossoming bruises littering your neck and shoulders, rings in the shape of her teeth like strange, demented flowers (or perhaps like footprints) the way they trail along your skin, inked there for all to see.
pitfighter!vi who fights like she's trying to break everyone else in the same way she wishes she were broken herself, all fevered, focused rage, and none of the restraint. no patience, only the blunted sting of a punch well-aimed, an elbow to the ribs, a knee to the groin, spit trailing out the edge of her mouth, a grin crooked and bloody hinged between her lips bc she knows when she looks up and scans the crowd, she'll inevitably find you there, watching her with your wide, alluring eyes.
pitfighter!vi who thinks she knows the depths and widths of hunger, has seen and felt it all, growing up in the lanes, and there are so many different kinds, aren't there? the kind that aches dull and deep in the stomach, the kind that claws and roars open in her chest, the kind that tingles like spider-poison all along the length of her spine. still, she's never quite felt a hunger like this -- the kind that threatens to consume her from the inside out the first time she sees you, and at first, it might've been a wholly vindictive thing -- perhaps its because there'd been something in the shadow of your smile that reminds her of -- well, it doesn't matter.
but the first time she kisses you (in the crush of bodies on a crowded dance floor, the music too loud, the bottom of her boots tacky with spilled drinks and blood and whatever else), you'd run your thumb along the line of her jaw so gently, traced the lines of her face with a touch so soft it ran a fissure through her car-alarm heart, and when she'd pulled away, you'd smiled as if she'd given you something other than just the jagged, broken bits of herself.
later, you'd told her that you still appreciated it then. bc it looked like that was all she could afford to give; and she gave it to you anyway.
pitfighter!vi who does not think she will ever get enough of you, and still, the more she gets, the more you give, the deeper the hunger grows. it yawns open inside her, huge and dark and cavernous, carving into her the more that it's fed, and by the gods do you feed it -- the way your head tilts back to allow her access to the smooth expanses of your throat, the darling, moon-lit landscape of your bare chest and shoulders, the way you're so pliant beneath her, your trust pouring from you like drink. and she drinks. and drinks. and drinks.
drinks till she's head-dizzy and heart-full. drinks till her vision blurs but for the sight of you, the shape of you so familiar to her waking moments it does not shock her in the least the first time she wakes up in the morning to the after-images of you in her dreams.
pitfighter!vi who, for the first time in her life thought she had lost all direction, but now -- she feels like at least there's still someone worth protecting, worth fighting for. and she knows, she knows it's not entirely healthy, how much and how hard she falls for you, knows that perhaps it is not the best thing for a woman like her to make someone like you the still-point of her turning universe, you, who manages to shine despite the grime that collects in the city around you. you, who is softness made into an act of defiance, who, one night, curled against her side, told her that there's a certain vindication to smiling in the face of a world who would love nothing more than to rip the joy, bleeding and raw from your throat.
"it's not always easy... actually," you laugh, the sound sweet as spring water as it trickles over her skin, "it's really fucking hard but... why not do it anyway?"
"what, be happy?" her own voice is low and cracked from the fight earlier that night. but you'd kissed a line down her throat and told her that you loved it when she moaned.
"yeah. if the whole world wants us sad and angry... what bigger fuck you is there than to be... happy?"
pitfighter!vi who lets you draw the dark lines down her cheeks, but they're neater than she'd done them herself, who kisses your fingertips when they're stained with the black of her hair-dye, who laughs fully for the first time in... she doesn't even remember how long, when you lean forward and trace a tiny mustache with the leftover ink on your fingers right over her mouth. who sinks into the sound of your laughter like a warm bath, letting it soak into her sore muscles, unspool the tension coiled in her shoulders, the rictus threatening to settle in the set of her knuckles.
she lets you sooth over the harms and hurts that had followed behind her, nipping at her heels like disobedient dogs her whole life, lets you kiss her brows and pull her behind you as you point at the new graffiti art that wasn't there the week before.
pitfighter!vi who has always had a fierce love for zaun because it's her home, but has never stopped to consider just how beautiful of a place it is until she meets you -- and it is beautiful, an angry, pulsing, rebellious beauty, raw and dripping with shimmer-soaked ichor. a beauty carved of disparate limbs and desperate parts, one that is hard-earned and well-fought, the same beauty found in the darkest hours of night, right before the morning dawns, the same beauty she finds reflected back at her when she sees her blurred reflection in a pool of spilt blood on the fighting pit's arena floor.
zaun hums to the tune of debauchery, and for the first time, she's with someone who allows her to be greedy, allows her the breadth and width of wanting so freely. and she thinks it might be spiraling into a full-blown obsession, the way she can't go three seconds without thinking about you, wondering where you are, what you're doing, what you're up to. and you always tell her, tell her about the flowers you saw growing from a crack in the sidewalk, the shaft of sunlight hitting a shard of broken glass in just the right way, how sometimes if you close your eyes and listen, the ticking and clicking noises that run like a baseline thrum through the entire city almost sounds like birdsong.
pitfighter!vi who can't say she's ever fallen properly in love (she thinks that perhaps, once, she got real close), but wonders if this is what it feels like, to feel the void of your physical absence like the itch of a phantom limb, so she does everything she can to keep you close, glares at people if their eyes linger too long on you as the pair of you walk down the street, doubles down on her training regime so that she can fend of anyone who even breathes wrong in your direction.
who can't help pouting every time you pull away to do anything -- to grab another bag of snacks, to ask the bartender for another drink, to listen to something loris is saying -- she has to tamp down the urge to pull you back, to meld you to her side and never let go.
pitfighter!vi who starts to get more strategic with her fights, who saves up money now bc she wants to take you out to dinner, or just buy you nice things once in a while. who spends way too many hexes and cogs on a bouquet of fresh flowers, ones that aren't tainted or bred with the faint, sickly shine of shimmer, and she thinks its all worth it to watch the smile break across your face like dawn over a brand new day -- brilliant, blinding.
she blinks, watching with a fond smile as you fuss over the flowers in your tiny apartment, the space small but cozy, everything neat and in its place. you put the flowers into a tall, slightly chipped glass mug and set them by the window, admiring them from this angle, then that.
"y'like them, angel?"
you nod, grinning as you throw your arms around her, "i love them, vi! i love them so much!"
"good. i'm glad you like 'em. just..." her voice trails off; you cock your head.
"just, what?"
she shrugs, "ah -- just, i always thought it was sad getting flowers cause... they'll wilt someday, right?"
but when she looks back at you, still caught up in her arms, you're still smiling. and there's a fox-fire glint in your eyes that makes something in her stomach twist hot.
"well, there's one kind of flower that won't wilt that i wouldn't mind having here all the time..."
vi blinks, a dry heat creeping up the back of her throat, her heart a wild, fluttering thing caught beneath her cage of ribs.
"yeah?" her voice is hoarse as she swallows around the hope pooling on her tongue like blood. "and what kinda flower is that?"
you lean in, your breath a whisper along her parted lips.
"violets."
pitfighter!vi who moves in three days later, with nothing but some old clothes and her punching bag, which you'd already made room for (somehow) hung up from one of the high rafters in the kitchen, next to the tiny dining table tucked into the corner. who spends the next three days fucking you on every available surface (and some unavailable ones, like against the fridge for instance), telling you that it's only right to christen things now that you're officially living together.
who doesn't bother to wonder if things are moving too fast, and dives in head first because that's the only ways she's ever known to how to do things. who thinks, blithely to herself one night, the warm shape of you curled next to her, sleeping so soundly it almost breaks her heart, that you're probably the first good thing she's ever gotten stuck on -- and she's gotten stuck on a lot of things (fighting, boxing, the guilt, the shame, the anger, the world-ending sorrow of losing it all). its one of the things vander had always warned her about.
"you get into things too hard, kiddo -- gotta learn to pace yourself."
but she doesn't care, because hard's what she was raised on, and it's how she plans on loving you, god, if it's the last thing she does, right or wrong, so be it.
pitfighter!vi who still has her bad nights, still drinks a bit too much sometimes, but at least you're always there to keep her from going too far. and you're the only one who can pull her back, the only one she'll listen to when you tug the drink away from her hands and slide it down the bar towards loris, who'll eye it for a second before downing it and settling up the tab, nodding towards you even as you sling an arm around vi's middle to lead her out of the bar.
who still wakes up screaming some nights, her eyes wide and unseeing, scrabbling at you, tugging you into her if only to bury her face in your shoulder, her whole body wracked with dry-heaving sobs.
"my sister used to think there were monsters under the bed, and make me check down there every night before going to bed," she murmurs, her face inches from yours, her words soft and ever so slightly slurred.
you brush your fingers against her cheek, a comforting, repetative motion -- back and forth, back and forth, till her lashes flutter shut.
"guess she was right... but the monsters never wanna stay under the bed, do they? it's like they always... wanna come out and play..."
you let out a breathy laugh, "or maybe," you offer, your voice low and soothing, "they're just as scared as you are. and they're just looking for someone to scare their own monsters away."
pitfighter!vi who is still not good at slow, but sometimes, when she kisses you, she wishes that had the power to hit pause on time, just so she could stretch out the moment and kiss you forever. she thinks that she'll never be good at patience, but sometimes, when you tell her just gimme a sec! when she's waiting for you to get ready before going out to dinner at jericho's or just for a round of drinks at the bar round the corner, her leaning against the doorway watching as you put the finishing touches of your makeup on yourself in the kitchen mirror -- she thinks she'd give you every last second of the rest of her life if you ever asked her to.
pitfighter!vi who, recently, has really, really started hoping that someday soon, you'll actually ask her to.
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taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent - join the taglist
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mohntilyet · 2 months ago
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still i think the one of the more fun differences drawn between illario and lucanis that was lost would be illario's ability to endear himself to others but serious lack of empathy, vs. lucanis' (self perceived) inability to be charming but how much he cares. it's interesting that the game has gone with the "lucanis' ability vs illario's lack thereof" because i think illario being the dellamorte 'best in show dog' vs. lucanis' attack dog would have made me so unwell.
lucanis is... awkward. he's not unlikable, because he is usually very polite, but he doesn't speak much and only seems to care about the other dellamortes. he once sent viago de riva a knife with no note (who knows what he could have meant by this). he does what caterina asks of him, and by his own admission, cannot say no to her. he is a dramatic and prolific killer, and that makes how untouchable he is even worse.
and the crows like illario, sure, AND he's a good assassin! he's even a good crow! he's so good that he can make lucanis smile, and so he is the charming, sociable one. he's the one that stays in treviso and can be relied upon to care, illario's even the one people prefer over caterina and lucanis!
but illario is decoration. he's the prize poodle, and even if poodles were bred to be working dogs, nobody will ever pick him to protect the house over the german shepherd that regularly mauls intruders. anyways the analogy is getting away from me. the point i'm trying to make is that i want illario to have a different kind of jealousy/hatred that's not just over 'being bad at killing' but also an arrogant loathing for everyone around him that is getting harder to hide, because they've forgotten he can bite and is just itching to rip someone's jugular out. illario is very good at hiding his family resemblance to caterina, while lucanis suffers under his grandmother's, and his own, reputation.
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forgettable-au · 3 months ago
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FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 61-64)
* I-I don't think we were talking about the same thing...
[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]
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verflares · 6 months ago
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would you like to live deliciously?
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doodoodinklefart · 5 months ago
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pov fallin in love w ur homie cuz he's so pretty all of a sudden?!?!
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astradyke · 7 months ago
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i literally am inconsolable over this story what is wrong with them. phil enters the room and dan is so excited/taken aback by phil dying his hair that he jolts up so fast that he passes out and punches a lamp and phil, his partner who is aware he has hypotension*, sees this happen and is like "oh i guess dan is just twerking at me" WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU SFADUHJK
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chiquilines · 6 months ago
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In honour of mha ending, have some old (and i mean OLD) miryumi scribbles i never got around to posting. They were the main characters in my heart
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ninthriven · 7 months ago
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Micah-10 & Mihaylova
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