#nose-of-the-fox

[hensfox]

henry's nose scrunch (pt 2)

[spontaneousmusicalnumber]

ough you know the book you want is obscure when even the internet archive hasnt heard of it and you can't find a pdf anywhere

this looks like a job for the formal inter library loan process at the municipal library

i've given them a year and a budget to get it to me so i can scan and keep all of the Finnish iron age tablet weaving patterns contained therein

[mulderscully]

When I was younger, I would dream of taking somebody I loved here. And he'd love it as much as I did. And we'd dance right here amidst all these statues. Just a daft pubescent fantasy.

[yrsonpurpose]

you're gonna come to my room on the second floor of the residence where I'm going to do some very bad things to you.

[creepinsheepin]

REN 🗣🗣🗣 HANA 🗣🗣 based off that one pic of him

[dadodo]

costumes for various villainesses, demonesses and other supernatural creatures in Journey to the West (1986)

costume design by Wang Yunqi

[padawansuggest]

Cody: *pinching the bridge of his nose* General, I /know/ you know how to use a blaster-

Obi-Wan: *guiltily* yes.

Cody: I have even seen you use them in practice with the men-

Obi-Wan: correct.

Cody: And yet. You threw it.

Obi-Wan: …yes.

Cody: …why did you throw it?

Obi-Wan: Well. You see-

Cody: oh god-

Obi-Wan: Palpatine was a Sith. He expected a lot of things from that fight. Maybe he expected to turn my sweet baby Anakin-

Cody: Ew-

Obi-Wan: -on us and use him, maybe he expected me to come at him with a saber, maybe he expected me to shoot him.

Cody: So you didn’t think he’d expect you to throw a blaster. You couldn’t have even chosen a granade?

Obi-Wan: Listen. He could have thrown one back at us. The force said throw the blaster and grab my sweet baby Padawan out of dodge and let Fox knife him. It worked!

Cody: Force give me patience so I don’t strangle my ven’riduur-

Obi-Wan: *perks up* So we’re still engaged?

Cody: You aren’t getting rid of me that fast, dikut.

[blueandcrispy]

I ❤️U agent mulder!!!!!!!!! (-:

[chalkrub]

more assorted stuff. giving funney animal people versions to my human ocs because i'm normal

[blueflipflops]

I think one of my favorite genre of clone centric star wars fics are where Fox and the Coruscant Guard gets their own jedi. Usually by digging through trash chutes. There's usually a jedi there or two. Fox found them so he's keeping them. And this somehow saves the galaxy.

[foxpopvli]

21. Nose Art

#foxtober2023

[enthusiastic-nimrod]

Scooby Doo, and Sonic Too!

A Sconic crossover I've been fiddling with for fun! My favorite designs are definitely Scooby and Velma. I was trying to really make the characters feel accurate to the Sonic style while still being recognizable, but they definitely need one or two redesigns to work. Still, I'm glad I did this! It was a cool exercise!

[cc1010fox]

Fox: I hate you. Fox: I hate you more than I could ever express. Fox: I hate your presence. Fox: I hate the thought of you. Fox: I wish you would just disappear. Thorn: Fox? Fox: Yeah? Thorn: What are you doing? I heard talking... Fox: Just my morning pep talk. Thorn: Oh? Telling yourself you're the best marshal commander~? Fox: ...Yeah. Thorn: Good. 'Cause you are.

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[eddiebuckley-diaz]

Bathena discovering a bomb on their cruise -

Buck and Eddie having their first moment involving a bomb…

Bathena holding hands as the ship is going down -

Buck and Eddie holding on to each others hands when Buck was stuck under the ladder truck and Eddie was dragged under the ladder truck after being shot…

Hmmmmm

[peetas-nose]

I literally don’t think I can continue IM BARKING. IM HOWLING. IM SCREAMING. AND IM CRYING. HELLOOOOOOOOOOO????