#idk what else to tag this as LMAO

[sol0re]

Crusty suit Rider, how we feeling.

[birthmarkbuckley]

Fuck it. Work In Progress Wednesday

Here’s a snippet of something I’m working on rn… idk why the font is so small I’m sorry I don’t know how to fix it lol 😭 I recommend clicking the photo if you can’t read it as is.

Anyway. I hope this is good lol

[fruitypiestims]

Happy Progress Day!

🎇 🎇 🎇 /🎇 🎇 🎇 / 🎇 🎇 🎇

[inkedmyths]

To all the people who just love annoying their friends and other loved ones, this one goes out to you! Something of a pose/expression challenge, though in this case it's less the actual poses and more the interaction happening lol

Feel free to send characters and a number/letter! I'm excited to give this a try

And of course, feel free to use this however you see fit! I'd love to see if you give this a go, too, so please show me lol

[goldentigerfestival]

now like i know a lot of ppl prob loved the english version of the yuri and flynn fight at aurnion bc of the "kick your ass" stuff they made up, but like hear me out

Flynn:

なんだろうこの感じ…！ I wonder what this feeling is...!

Yuri:

なんだっていいだろ、オレは全力でお前にぶつかってく！ Whatever it is, I'm hitting you with all my strength!

Flynn:

それじゃあ…僕も全力で君を倒すっ！ Well then… I'll use all my strength to overwhelm you!

Yuri:

倒せるもんなら倒してみろっ！ If you can beat me, then beat me!

original context abouta turn into an E rated fanfic real quick (they talk very suggestively to each other. take that as you will)

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

A lil Gwendolyn cuz I miss her

[foggybear42]

gender-swapped versions of wolverine should still be named logan but have their full name as jacqueline "jackie" howlett send tweet

[seaofolives]

I'm also doing FTH fan labors this year! If you have a short English fic from FFXV, Sk8 or Hadesgame that you'd like to have translated to Filipino, or if you're writing a character that codes, check out my second listing at bit.ly/livfth2024! 🫶🏽✨

[callmehere-iwillappear]

anyway you can get a bunch of my rise art on redbubble now if u want [does a sick kickflip]

[khaire-traveler]

New favorite type of wedding:

✨ Greek ✨

I went to a traditional Greek Orthodox wedding. We arrived here at about 7, walked across the island to the bride's house with a band playing as a procession, watched the groom give the bride her bouquet, and walked to the church. We sat for a while and listened to a priest and some singers speak in Latin and officiate the marriage. They even signed their marriage license in front of us!

After that was the reception. It started around 8pm. It's now 1am, and we are still drinking and dancing and blasting traditional Greek wedding music! They even invited us to join in all their dances and stuff; it was fantastic! 🧡

I have no idea when I'm going to bed tonight, but that's ok. 👌

[buff-muffin]

This is a Drabble I wrote that was originally going to be the start of an actual fic where Mike meets Charlie’s ghost and the two recognised each other and start catching up and helping each other out in their similar goals. But I haven’t had time to really write in weeks and I know after the movie any motivation for this story is burning in the pits of hell. So instead take this:

A drabble based off Micheal Afton getting ready for a work interview after being scooped. So uhh yea, CW for. Um… Grossness and mentions/ suggestions to body horror :)

It was morning. It was piss-fuck early morning. The ancient, dented alarm beside his bed blared with a static screech, almost unfamiliar with how long it had been since he had needed to listen to its shitty morning song. Already, all Mike wanted was nothing more than to curl up back in bed, back into the soothing lulls of sleep where he could simultaneously forget and remember everything terrible about life. With drowsiness weighing his arms like led, he tried to shift ever so subtly to get comfortable, though all it did was drag his mind right back to reality and awareness of his body. The first thing he noticed was his skin, he quickly became conscious of how it was sagged, almost like it was melted and stuck against the soggy old, torn mattress he still hadn’t found time to replace. It wasn’t like he could feel the bumps and spikes of old rusted springs that snapped through the fabric. Not through the tingling numbness that plagued his own dead body. So it was on his… eventually to do list. He had all the time in the world after all.

With glaring awake-ness back into his body, he could do nothing but pull his flesh off the drying liquid that stained the fabric of his mattress and wake up. With a slight stretch and a disgustingly slow peel, he pried himself free and pushed his legs over the side of the bed. Only now, sitting with his back so badly hunched he might completely collapse, did Mike even open his eyes. There was no sleep to wipe away and no light to adjust to. He was just, awake, back in the world of the living once again. It was only when his brain caught up did he look over the shitty apartment space he called home.

It was a studio apartment bathed in darkness from the closed curtains. The living conditions of this run down place was the definition of unliveable, which made it perfect for him. There was a leak of some kind of liquid in the kitchen. He didn’t really have an actual roof as little bits of asbestos would rain down if ever his upstairs neighbour stomped too hard. There was mould in about every corner. A roach infestation and probably a termite one too. But rent was dirt cheap and the old fuck daring enough to sell this piece of shit didn’t care how dead he looked, as long as he paid rent.

It was a good deal. A good deal for someone who can't die of any of the health code violations going on in this place.

Finally shutting off his alarm that only seemed to get more distorted as it screamed, Mike let the reality of the day wash over him. Right, busy… busy… With a resolution about as strong as his endo supported spine, he finally pulled himself up and away from his resting place. Heh. He was in nothing but a pair of boxers despite the November weather, not like he needed to keep much warm after all. So with slow, lugged and lazy steps, he dragged his boneless corpse over the piles of dirty and stained clothes and across to the bathroom; the only other room of the house. What were all those clothes stained with? An orangey-browny sometimes greeny liquid that would leak out from his scars if he laid down too long. Whatever it was, it was also on his bed and a bitch to wash out. So really he planned on throwing them all away eventually too. It was also on his never-to-do list.

The bathroom was no better than the rest of the house, if anything, arguably worse. The walls were caked in black mould and the floor painted with even more laundry that made little mounds to walk on. Under the sink was completely ransacked for its chemicals, the shower curtains were brittle with age and mould. The whole place smelled like mildew and the humidity was so bad fish could breathe in here. Even the appliances inside hardly worked. The water pressure in the shower was so dog-shit it was enough to make God cry. And half the time his sink water would be brown, just cause. Even the counter was covered in junk. But at least the mirror still worked besides the slight permanent fog.

Mike didn’t bother closing the door, and looked himself in the mirror. Skin was still as gross as ever. Hairless, purple and a little bit saggy, maybe that was a normal sag? He liked to think it was a normal sag. Like old peoples faces just started drooping once they hit eighteen. Because that’s definitely how it worked. The fact he was an adult now is still a weird one to come to terms with. So much time had passed. So much time he hardly remembered… he hardly remembered…Enard- Staring into the reflection his dead white pupils blinked away thoughts as he was dragged back to reality, right… busy busy. No time to think about months of his life lost to being a flesh puppet. Waking up a little more, he bared his teeth at his reflection, looking over them with a dull exhausted interest. Yellow and stained but unchanged, one would have thought he might have lost them a long time ago but nope. In fact they weren’t even rotting anymore now that he didn’t eat. Score. His tongue on the other hand… Was looking a bit worse for wear. He was no mortician, he didn’t really know how to make it stop rotting, he would just have to hope he could still talk when it fell out.

His eyes were a different story, no longer did he have his fathers diluted blue irises that made him shiver looking in his own reflection. In fact he no longer had eyes at all. Instead his eye sockets were bathed in darkness, with little white dots deep inside that worked as his pupils. Yeah besides his organs they were quick to toss out his eyeballs to make sure they could see when using him like a living animatronic suit. It was a little freaky that he could stick his fingers in his eyes and feel around the sticky and dried flesh. He didn’t like to, but it was kinda cool in a fucked up sort of way. The idea made him want to vomit. And wanting to vomit reminded him that he didn’t have organs. And THAT reminded him of shitty things, so he usually didn’t poke around unless something got stuck in there.

“Fuck. fuck fuck fuck. Interview. Ok, interview. Fuck-I gotta shower. Ok no it’s fine, I woke up early for this I’m still on time.” Trying to snap himself out of damp and depressing thoughts, he slapped his hands lightly on his hollowed cheeks and ignored the gross slapping sound that came from boneless fingers on sewn up skin. Reaching a hand past the slimy and brittle curtain he grabbed a knob and random and spun it a few times. The water dribbled and sputtered before finally coming out enough that he could actually fucking clean himself with.

It took a while believe it or not. Trying to shower without getting water in your stitches that are literally all over your body fucking sucks. Cause then he’d have to drain the water out of his empty body and if he’s unlucky have to do the stitches all over again. And the shitty patch work that covered his body spoke for itself that he can't sew for SHIT. The only upside was that he didn’t have any hair at all, he didn’t have to worry about shampoo or conditioner; just a light scratch to his skull did the job. The only things he actually needed to do was scrub off the remaining residue from his mattress that had plastered itself to his skin. Well, and wash away the smell of physical rot with nothing but a cheap body wash he bought just for today. Actually he bought some other things for this interview too.

Other things being, makeup.

Ok yeah-it sounds a little stupid, but when your skin is a beautiful shade of undead purple, and you're heading in for a work interview at a childrens’ entertainment establishment. The best you could do was just look a little living, ya know? So, once Mike was padded dry using the one clean towel he still had, he wrapped it around his waist and left the bathroom, retrieving the makeup he left out, along with the only nice outfit he bothered to keep clean. Bundling everything in his arms, he returned to the only mirror in his apartment and dumped all the supplies in the sink to get dressed first. His clothes were simple, and styled a little like a homeless man. A pair of long baggy jeans, the only pair that weren’t ripped intentionally or by a robot. A turtle neck that would do a good job of hiding some scars that decorated his freak of a neck, and a purple flannel he stole from his fathers leftover stuff. I mean was it really stealing if his mum was gonna sell ‘em anyways?

When he looked in the mirror it felt odd. He never did look right, no matter what he wore. But the fact his skin now matched his fathers obnoxious plum coloured clothes was enough to make him shiver. As uncomfortable as the flannel made him, it beats trying to thrift at three AM. The last details of his outfit was still stuffed in his pocket, a pair of mittens and an old grey beanie that had been with him through many winters. Thank fuck for the cold weather giving him and excuse to hide more of his corpse skin right?

When he was finally dressed and drowned in deodorant to mask the lingering scent of death, he turned back to the musky and foggy mirror staring down at the products still abandoned in the sink. Foundation, concealer, some weird palette thing that he spent ten bucks on, an egg sponge that was probably important, and one of those weird also kinda egg shaped brushes that seemingly every woman owned. He didn’t know jack-shit about makeup. He was a freshly twenty year old guy with a sister that went missing before she could become a teen and actually get good at this bullshit. And a mother who never had a chance to dress up. The most he was going off of was when Elizabeth would beg and cry to cake his face to look like a bootleg clown. But that was when they were both children.

Alright, makeup, he could do this. Basically like half the population wears this shit, can’t be too hard. Ok first, foundation? Or would concealer be first for him? He does need to conceal like… everything. Maybe if he layers foundation enough it will conceal all his issues? He could probably put concealer on next if needed. Using the sponge, he started smearing his face in what felt like skin colour paint. One layer made him look as if nothing changed. So he added some more, then more. And when he still looked a little bit… freaky, with a purple undertone he added concealer. And well… he didn’t look… terrible?

Well, he still looked like a clown, and his eyes were still glowing lights in pits of darkness and he was still bald as fuck. So like a horror clown from hell. But his cheeks looked less dead and he looked passable for a living human, if only just a little uncanny. His face looked as flat as a paper plate which probably didn’t help. Looking down at the palette thing he was sure he had wasted his money on, he could feel himself cringe. Not what he thought he would be using art class for, but at least it wasn’t a complete waste.

Using the brush, he shaded from jaw to cheek and along the sides of his nose. He even added little highlights just to seal the deal on the idea of being alive. He wasn’t going too over the top with this, it’s not like he was going out for a tea party or some shit. He just needed to look alive. All around, makeup took an hour and he ended with a presentable face and a new understanding of why the few girls he dated were always running late. It was satisfactory. So, deeming himself done, he washed off his hands and the sink that had been splattered in spilled concealer. Once all the shit was dry and his black towel was newly dawned with fresh skin coloured stains he finally walked out of the bathroom to the rest of his decomposing house.

Finally, he pulled on his tattered beanie and dug through the remains of his backpack. The thing was old, rotting and falling apart at the seams. A large stain still sat at the bottom from a particularly rotten apple from high school. But now it was filled with everything he would need for today. Definitely expired meds. A fake resume, that was basically fucking empty besides some good words from a volunteer place he had never actually worked at. Fake ID, for a Mr Jeremy Fitzgerald. Surprisingly, when he called the place, they didn’t have that many checks besides explaining that as long as you had a clean criminal record you would be fine to work.

A particular stain on that shiny old record of his rang in his head. There was no court problem besides other parents complaining about the trauma their children went through. But he was sixteen, and arguably had it worse at the time. So no real charges were pressed, just a note in case he became a deadbeat in the street or something. So they could tie it all back to the trauma of the biggest fuck up of his life and throw him behind bars anyways. But it’s fine, that wouldn’t matter. Jeremy Fitzgerald was a fresh out of high school teen looking for honest work between his studies. A blank slate he planned on tossing away once he got what he needed from this place.

Once he figured out what his father had planned.

With a new found resolve, and his double check done, Michael Afton pulled on his glasses and gloves and slugged his bag onto his back. He looked back to his bed and resisted the urge to collapse on it before he pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind him. Jeremy Fitzgerald had an interview for the nightshift at the new and improved Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. And he couldn’t miss this chance.

[homoautoerotic]

tagged by @fagmolloy

I'll add to the pile of people tagging @collegeboysam, also @mad-scientist-enthusiast, @susandsnell, @radiocurrency, also anyone else who wants to do it

[lil-ms-dipst]

Doing that one cool meme thing the kids noawadays do (I am totally not saying this as if I'm not just 19 years old)

[justablah56]

tee hee I finished the littol tail wag gif

currently working on a few different (colored) versions, but have a happy little tail wag <3

[dragonfruitghosts]

oh yeah I forgor to show this little fella

This is Onyx, he’s my little dnd character for a campaign I’m in with my friends (including the most swag bro with the most swag art) and what I based him on was kinda my experiences of having undiagnosed autism and adhd. I can never have one of my characters just be silly and happy they all need to be fucked up lmao.

I don’t have much for him yet since the campaign hasn’t started but I will eventually, moon’ll be so fucked up and silly

[ladyimaginarium]

Soulmates & Twin Flames !!

Soulmates: Two or more separate souls that come together in a way that feels destined and who complement each other, whether they be friends, family, lovers and partners if applicable, or even pets, individuals can and do have multiple soulmates in a single lifetime with a variety of different connections, all meant to help each individual personally develop and blossom into themselves, each soulmate connection is different, some are meant to only remain in a season of our lifetime while others will remain with us our whole entire lifetimes, and for many, many soulmates have been with you in past lives and when given a chance to reincarnate again, together you all decide to find each other and meet again.

Twin Flames: One soul split in two separate whole bodies, forever one entity and forever two physical beings. In contrast with soulmates, there is only one twin flame, it is always romantic in nature and these connections are exceptionally rare. A twin flame is a mirror and brings up everything one or both individuals involved haven't dealt with when they're together with them and reflects the deepest parts of yourself; they are everything that you are, but in a completely different direction which challenges you to grow and learn specific life lessons, it's whom one feels connected to on the deepest level in all aspects, reincarnating together across many lifetimes reflecting back to us all of our hidden fears and shadows. This relationship has the capacity to be very fast paced and extremely intense. Twin flames come together to achieve bigger things together, and their mission is always related to uplifting humanity.

Flags requested & created by The Imaginarians Galaxy!

Disclaimer: Do not tag these as your own and please give credit if you plan on using these flags, if you want to make edits of these flags, please ask, but please no recolors. Do not fucking remove credit from us& being the creators of these flags. Please do not repost or add these flags to a wiki without my& and our& explicit collective consent. All exclusionists, TERFs/SWERFs, radfems, c.ringe/f.lop accounts, -phobes, racists & antisemites don't touch, these are not & never will be for you. If you do not believe in the concept of soulmates and/or twin flames, that's fine, just don't come in the notes bashing on people who do as it's a very personal thing to many people. These flags are inclusive to all genders, sexes, orientations & amory statuses, as well as alterhumans and systems. These are okay to use for if you yourself are in said connections and for "[insert characters/ship] are soulmates/twin flames!" edits and the like, just as long as you don't use it in stupid shipcourse bullshit or for "shipping" actual real, living, breathing people.

Tagging @radiomogai for visibility.