#the goat of my ask box

[noburden]

the urge to make a face reveal after taking an above average picture of yourself

[tigerr-cherry]

Q&A from Instagram :3c

[aluminia]

draw a goat!

A goat for you anon, I hope you see it <3

[goatpunches]

hey tumblr friends!!

i’ve been in a rut with drawing fanart because i’ve been working on some freelance, but i’m really itching for it. the problem? fresh out of ideas

anyway. if you want to send a request my way, my ask box is open ✨

[littebugbird]

IM FINALLY GETTING OUT EARLY TOMORROW!!! 😁

Next week is Christmas!

[nerdieforpedro]

for your recent wip game: either weddings 101 with dieter or we're the leftovers, author's choice 😗

My dear, since it is my choice and I feel like rambling extra, I’m not choosing! 😆 You’ll hear about both.

Weddings 101 with Dieter is my one of my rom-com babies. It’s a series featuring Dieter Bravo and a plus size OFC named Maya. She’s trying to get to her little brother’s destination wedding, issues with flights. Enter Dieter who…maybe had other intentions at first for getting her on his private plane. But despite what people believe about Dieter, he’s a sweetheart. They spend time together in Hawaii and randomness happens. Dieter has a pet goat named Daisy- she quickly be came a favorite supporting character. The villain - Oscar Isaac.

I love Oscar as I’m sure you’re well aware but he’s playing a fictionalized version of himself who has a major beef with Dieter. There’s goats, asses, guitars and more used between these two guys.

I could talk about that series forever ☺️

We’re the leftovers is a planned series with our favorite Art Crimes FBI agent who’s unlucky in love and deserves all the hugs and cuddles: Marcus Pike. The plot is supposed to take place after Pike comes back to DC from California and finds that the woman he proposed to doesn’t come with him. Devastated, he takes some time off and makes a small local trip around the DMV area trying different food places he’s wanted to try. He meets Seraphina while she’s tracking her cheating boyfriend (been making some of my female leads unhinged). Marcus and Seraphina are disappointed that they’re never anyone’s first choice.

I feel like I rambled quite well. 🤗

Below is Dieter with his goat just because. ❤️

[krikeymate]

top 5 dreams you’ve had

Uno reverse card, top five dreams you've had.

The dream you had where you worked in an ice cream shop, but you were serving applesauce, and your boss was Idina Menzel and you had to make pizza for her.

The one where you were on the Great British Bake-Off and you were crying because you couldn't understand the accents or instructions, and your brownies were too gooey. Somebody said blimey but you thought they said brownie so you messed it up. Incredible.

There was the one dream you had where I kissed a man and then got mad at you for it. Unhinged behaviour on my behalf, 10/10 hilarious.

The one where we were in London and visiting shops, and got some fish and chips, but the chips were McDonald's fries and I was suuuuppperr mad about it and upset with the server. Kate Siegel showed up and got fish and chips, but the right chips, and that only made me madder. You tried to tell me you liked McDonald's fries, but I was incensed, and told you to shut it. When you told me about this dream IRL, I said that I actually like McDonald's fries, but if that had happened I would be mad because it was the principle of the matter. You then furiously told me that THAT'S WHAT I HAD SAID IN THE DREAM. You know me so well <3

The recent dream where we were getting corndogs, but yours was a cat treat on a stick, tiny ones glued together in the shape of a star like a cat treat wand. Dream me thought this was hilarious, much to your fury. Real me also thought this was hilarious.

[sillyangstfic]

Funny reveal scenario: they turn it into a game.

So post-sentitwins becoming human/freed from amoks + no identities ever being revealed so far, Marinette perfected her anti-akuma charms and started distributing them to very temporary miraculous user. Realizing that keeping all of the miraculous in one place is too risky in case Hawkmoth finds out her identity, Marinette basically gives out all the miraculous to their users permanently.

Cue emotional reve between Adrien and Marinette with love confessions, fireworks, tears, yadda yadda you know the drill.

Onto the fun stuff: the other miraculous users are told that they all go to the same school or are related to people who go there and they basically make a scavenger hunt where the winner is the one who knows the most identities.

Cue side effect shenanigans:

Nino realizing that Adrien purrs. Alya noticing that Marinette is eating a shit ton more meat. Zoe and Chloe having a sudden taste for nectar. Juleka suddenly becomjg one of the most athletic students in the entire school. Juleka noticing her brother's new habit of swelling food whole. Kim and Nathaniel having competitions to see who's the best climber. The entire squad needing to DIY their hair products because it's all turning to furs and feathers. Kagami witnessing how Felix's wardrobe slowly becomes a rainbow. Nino, Kagami, Juleka, and Luka suddenly having a deep love of water and swimming. Have of the class going vegetarian or mostly carnivorous.

Just everybody doing the spiderman meme whenever the figure each other out.

All I can imagine is the extensive research and gaslighting that would go on

Nino looking real hard at Alya winning a game of tag by pouncing on someone with a hands first nosedive. Alya saying that’s just what it’s like having little sisters. Nino, who only has a little brother, can neither confirm nor deny, and Chloe refuses to give him a straight answer

Adrien in the middle of an article about peacock behavior when Felix enters the room wearing a mix of bright blues, purples, and pinks. He begins to suspect Felix has a crush on Luka

Chloe and Zoe clocking eachother immediately after catching eachother in the kitchen at 3 am to sneak in their bug food. They both maintain the stance that its perfectly normal to eat nectar, and actually it does wonders for the skin. Frankly, Kim, it’s rude you even asked

Max getting caught be Alix and Kim when he becomes faster than them

Juleka catching Luka trying to eat an egg whole, shell and all. He swears up and down its boiled. She asks if its his. You see Luka, hognose snakes will sometimes-

Kagami tells people the scales that keep appearing on her skin are a genetic condition from her father’s side

Rose starts to snort when she laughs, but no one catches on

Marc catches Nathaniel trying to eat his pencil, which he says is normal artist behavior, which Marinette firmly denies

Marinette pointing out Rose’s new laugh, Marc’s new hair feathers (which he had tried to hide under his hoodie), and Zoe’s tendency to be drawn to light to stir up even more chaos

[ghcstcd]

ARRRRGRGRGRGRGRRGRRRRR I LOVE YOUR VERSION OF MOUNTAIN SO MUCH IM EATING HIM, IM GOBBLING HIM RIGHT UP

SPIT HIM OUT!!! SPIT HIM OUT RIGHT NOW!!!!!

[cervinecytoplasm]

So, finally got some time to myself and decided to spend it on working on an imp model. Delighfully devilish if I must say so myself

[goatfactsofficial]

Hey so tell me what YOU think happened to the members of the Bund. Before you start following in their footsteps, tell me why YOU think "assimilate really hard and hope they don't kill us anyway" is gonna work out this time when it has literally never worked before. Tell me why we're all supposed to join you in doing this instead of seeking self-determination in the land we came from, where we can guarantee that we won't suddenly have our citizenship revoked and be deemed enemies of the state for existing.

Bundists all got piled into mass graves in Babi Yar. I don't think "Assimilate and Hope" is a good plan, and it isn't my plan. I dont think anyone needs to join me in this, and I think moving back to Israel looks more and more attractive every day. I believe in Doikayt because I think that I have a real opportunity to to good work in making Goyim less ignorant about who we are as a people. I believe in Doikayt because I believe in not running from a fight unless I have to. I believe in Doikayt because I love my diaspora Jewish community here at the bottom of the world. I also think Israel is a fucking beautiful place, and I miss it every day. My heart yearns for Jerusalem, for Tel Aviv, for Petach Tikva, for Shokeda, for Haifa. I think you took one look at my profile, saw a buzzword you didn't like, and decided to get your panties in a twist without actually inquiring as to what my real beliefs are. Lurk moar.

[applescabs]

its almost my birthdayyyy and im excited because i already know. most of the presents im gonna get actually. but one of them is the bnha manga boxsetttt

[bacchusbasil]

SMILES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[seat-safety-switch]

There's something magical about finding something unlocked that wasn't supposed to be. Ever since I was a young kid, the thrill of getting to peek inside a forbidden door, access shaft, or motor vehicle is unmatched. You get to learn stuff. It feels a little wrong. And sometimes you get to take home some cool industry-specific tools. Taken together, there's no reason not to randomly jiggle doorknobs as you walk past a particularly enticing cabinet.

Near my house is this truly enormous green utility box. It's at least five meters wide, and is as tall as a man. There's no label on the outside to make it obvious what its purpose is. Last week, someone did some maintenance on it, and they forgot to put the lock back on when they were done. Naturally, I decided I would go take a look.

Inside, I found a matrix of twinkling lights, a jungle of wiring, and no cool leftover tools. I thought at first that it might be a phone switch, but there were no fancy phone-company labels on it anywhere. Not even a hastily scrawled sign-in sheet on the door about what contractor to blame. I decided to reach further into the box, hoping to learn something about the world that surrounds me. And that's when it happened.

Friends, you might think that all those childhood fables about reaching into a disused closet in your least favourite aunt's house and being transported to another world are fiction. You'd be right: kids during World War II who engaged in such risky behaviour usually died of typhoid aggravated by hypothermia. They just hadn't invented magical phone-company cabinets yet. I soon found myself in a different land, soft snow falling upon my face from a starlight sky of beautiful LEDs. And then a half-goat, half-man addressed me.

"What the fuck?" asked Mr. Tumnus.

"It's my first day and my supervisor hasn't given me a safety vest yet. Where's the problem?" I grunted out, already ripping into the drywall behind me for any loose lengths of copper that I could grab and sell.

[star--stilinski]

EVERYONE. GUESS WHAT. @obriengf AND I ARE HAVING A SPRING WEDDING AND YOU'RE ALL INVITED BECAUSE THEY FOUND THIS FIC. ALL TOGETHER MY ANONS SAY "THANK YOU JEMMA" AND GO READ HER FIC ABOUT STILES BEING DAD MATERIAL. IT'S ONE OF THE STILES FIC GOATS. OMG. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH JEMMA.

☆

you're practically vibrating with nerves when you approach stiles' front door, wearing your favorite date night dress and holding a small container of home baked cookies.

sure, you've met noah stilinski in passing. but you hadn't really met him met him and part of you was grateful. it would be so awkward if you were familiar with the sheriff (for the wrong reasons) and he turned out to be your boyfriend's dad.

you only have to knock twice for stiles to swing the door open. he's smiling, a bit disheveled, and he's got... flour on his face?

"hey, come on in, we were just finishing up dinner. what's in the box?" he ushers you inside and leads you through his home, stopping just before the kitchen to smile down at you.

"oh, just a little something to ensure parental approval." you joke, shaking the tupperware gently. stiles laughs and wastes no more time taking the container out of your hands to set on a nearby hallway table, pulling you into a hug. you inhale his scent deeply and feel him do the same to you, squeezing you tightly against him.

"you smell nice." he mumbles into your hair. "missed you."

"you saw me yesterday."

"yeah, and i missed you afterwards. okay, come on." he kisses the top of your head and pulls back, hands sliding down your arms to hold your hand. "burnt pasta awaits."

you don't dare ask how he burnt the pasta when stiles turns a corner and leads you into the very room his dad is standing, mixing a pot of penne pasta. he looks up and smiles politely when he sees you, and you do your best to return the smile with confidence (and not fear of rejection).

"dad," stiles hums excitedly, "this is my girlfriend. girlfriend, dad."

"nice to meet you, sir." you hum. you step forward and shake his hand, meeting his eyes.

"ah, the pleasure's all mine." his handshake is firm and he's grinning kind of like stiles does when he's about to make fun of you. "my son won't shut up about you, it was about time."

you blush and laugh, glancing back at stiles, who snakes his arms around your waist and presses his cheek to the side of your head. "that's very true, she's already gotten that comment from scott."

eyes widening, you feel even hotter with embarrassment. stiles is acting like a theme park couple, one of his hands squeezing your waist where he knows it tickles. you squeak and jump back, wiggling out of his arms. he smiles all dopily at you.

"alright," noah claps his hands together, seemingly not even noticing the interaction. "who's ready for burnt pasta?"

you clear your throat, throwing stiles a bit of a warning look before turning your attention to noah. "i've heard about this, i'm curious to see what burnt pasta could taste like. i'd love a bowl."

noah laughs and dishes you up some, leaving you to bask silently in the victorious (accidental) joke. meanwhile, stiles tucks some of your hair behind your ear and smirks.

"me, too. we never really cook, so it's got to have something wrong with it." he turns to his dad. "dish me up some, chef!"

"you can dish some up yourself. i'm only getting it for our lovely guest." noah looks unimpressed with stiles, waving the wooden pasta spoon at him. "don't think you get off just because you have her to hide behind."

stiles makes a "wha-hey!" noise and scoffs, reluctantly grabbing himself a bowl and scooping out some pasta, bringing both of your dishes to the table. once you're all sat, you thank them both for dinner and ask noah about his work.

and you swear, on your life, you're trying to focus.

but with stiles' big, veiny hand on your thigh like a lifeline, it's a bit fucking difficult.

you know stiles likes touch. but when his fingertips are pushing the hem of your dress up a bit to caress your upper thigh? you swallow thickly. in front of his father, of all people!

you tune back in when stiles starts relaying a funny story. his unoccupied hand reaches across himself and lays on top of your hand as he gets animated, explaining scott's hilarious mistake to his dad with enthusiasm. once he finishes, his hand slides away from yours and the one on your thigh squeezes lightly. "do you guys wanna watch a movie?"

"i rented close encounters of the third kind." noah smirks, pointing at stiles. you watch as stiles gives you a bashful look.

"my dad has an affinity for alien media. you'll learn this sooner than you think."

"they're real!" noah seems only half-joking as he gathers your dishes and makes for the kitchen. "just you wait, you'll be wishing you listened to me."

"yeah, okay dad." hums your boyfriend, waiting for his dad to be out of earshot. once you're safe, he pulls his chair impossibly closer to you. "so, how's it going?"

you blink, still blushing from the whole thigh-hand thing. "oh, uhm, good. right? i think it's going alright."

he nods, standing. you follow and let him cup your face. "i think it's going great. he likes you."

"do you say that to all the girls?" you joke, letting him glance down at your mouth obviously. if stiles wants to make a move on you now that you're dating, he usually does. he hums and laughs a little, pushing your hair out of the way.

"only the pretty ones." he leans down and kisses you, briefly. by the time he's pulling back you've forgotten your manners, pulling him by the t-shirt weakly to keep going. he laughs at you, nibbling his lower lip. "when do you need to be home?"

you glance to the side. "soon, probably. how long is the movie?"

"...two and a half hours."

"yeah," you smile apologetically. "i won't make that. sorry, sti'."

"it's okay babe. my dad and i will probably talk through the whole thing. or worse, we'll kill whoever does talk. it's best if you leave on a good note. c'mon."

you follow blindly as he leads you through the house to the living room, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arms around you loosely. his dad is sat on the couch pulling up the movie, and he turns to look at you guys. he seems only mildly phased by stiles' touchiness. you blush, completely mortified at the inappropriateness of it.

"dad," stiles muses. "she's gotta go."

"ah, alright." noah slaps his thighs and stands, and stiles only moves from your side to behind you, holding your hips lightly as his father approaches. "it was so great to finally meet you. thank you for coming."

you smile and shake his hand, doing your best to ignore stiles' too-comfortable hands. "thank you for dinner, sorry i can't stay."

he shakes his head and waves like 'no problem', but he doesn't get to speak it as stiles perks up. "oh shit, the cookies! we have to try them in front of you!"

"stiles, i'm sure that's not-"

"i'll go grab them, be right back." and he's gone.

you make eye contact with sheriff stilinski, watch as he sizes you up and smiles softly. "i'm sure you're a bit put off by the touching?"

"it's... not unusual. just not so..."

"confident?"

"yes," you laugh, flustered and warm, and glance to where stiles ran off. you can both hear him rummaging around. "i'm sorry about it. i don't want you to think we're immature."

noah shakes his head. "believe it or not, it means good things. i don't know how much he talks about it, but..."

noah stilinski looks off, clenches his jaw. "stiles used to hang off of his mother like that. constantly touching, holding. he used to do it with me, too. a lot. and then, after claudia passed... he just stopped. didn't touch, even hug. the first year was the worst. he's much better, but we don't do much loving anymore. not as much as i should be."

he looks back at you, dead in your eyes. "you're the first person i've seen him so comfortable with. physically, i mean. he holds you almost exactly how he used to hang off of his mother. save for a bit of..." noah clears his throat. "romantic tendencies."

you feel your heart swell; you remember when stiles first got all touchy, that night after you had really dug in, actually had a conversation about the nitty gritty of each other. it had been the first month into dating. he had wandering hands ever since, fully subconsciously.

before you can respond (what are you supposed to say? your boyfriend's dad basically just told you that his son loves you in a way he hasn't loved anyone before), stiles comes barreling back in.

"found 'em! they were on the hallway table, imagine that!" he slings an arm over your shoulder and it makes you all fuzzy in the chest. "okay, lets try them. open the lid, babe. my hands are full."

his hand that isn't offering you the container full of cookies is too busy running through your hair. you smile and gently take the container from him, only giving him another hand to put on you.

☆

later, when he walks you to your car and kisses you goodnight, he can't stop talking about how good the night went. you smile into the kiss (he tastes like chocolate chips) and lean back against the drivers side door (his hands are on your hips your cheeks your neck your sides) as he kisses all over your jaw and cheeks and finally, your lips.

"i love you." he whispers against you as he pulls away. you can feel his hands tighten against your body. he's nervous.

"i love you too, stiles." you smile up at him, feeling your heart flutter as he leans in for more.

☆

another bad boy from the vault!! don't forget to like, subscribe, and drop into my inbox with that daydream you've been having about stiles for weeks on end. you know the one.

[mediumgayitalian]

Will knows who it is at the first light brush on his shoulders.

He tips his head back back, bumping his boyfriend’s hip, leaning into the hand on his trapezius, his scapula, the base of his neck.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

“Hi,” Nico says, leaning down to press his smile onto Will’s forehead. His hair tickles his cheeks, and he smells like woodsmoke and citrus, and Will slides his hand across his jaw and tugs him closer.

“Errand done?”

“Yep.”

“Lord Hades pleased?”

“As much as he ever is.” Nico shifts, kissing the corner of his mouth, the curve of his chin, the shape of his jaw. “My ears are ringing from five days of quiet. Even the echoing sound of lost souls cannot compete with your constant blabbing; I hardly knew what to do with myself.”

“Oh, shut up. You love my chatterin’.” He smacks the side of Nico’s head, but it’s hard to play mad when he’s smiling, shameless, wide enough that his teeth nick Will’s cheekbones, that his snickers are muffled into his skin.

“If I wanted to be stuck with someone who yaps nonstop I would’ve stayed down with Cerebus. In fact he might shed less, and he doesn’t drool when he sleeps.”

“…I do not shed.”

Nico plants both hands next to Will’s head, heaving himself up, and scans his camp shirt. Within three seconds, he locates a strand of hair, pinches it off, and flicks it at Will’s face.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, for the love of — get over here,” Will demands. Laughing, Nico goes where Will tugs him, curling up next to him on the bench. “You’re such a shit. Normal people are much kinder to the significant annoyances they leave behind for five days, you know.”

“Are they.”

Nico lifts his arm in offering and Will accepts with relish, tucking himself under it and making certain to drag his curls down Nico’s face in the process.

“Yep. In fact I was expecting hand-written letters by day two, honestly, telling me how much you missed me and how the distance was physically painful, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe a sonnet or two. Italian, preferably, Elizabethan are not my favourite.”

“You’re very picky.”

Will sniffs haughtily. “Well, I’m a catch. You have lots of competition, you know. I was fighting them off while you were away but now that you come back and insult me upon reunion, I shall reevaluate my options.”

He feels more than hears the quiet laughter Nico presses in his hair, thumb brushing his collar, dipping onto bare skin.

“Is that so.”

“Indeed. My suitors have even offered a dowry quite handsome. I’m worth twenty-seven goats, didn’t you know.”

“Oh, well then. I might as well return what I brought for you, since I’m not sure I can outshine two dozen goats.”

The cool thing about being a son of Apollo is that Will has range. His dad is the god of arts, generally, up to and especially the dramatic ones. Will knows how to school his face into the perfect mask, how to smile on command and cry as desired, how to deliver a line and bow with a flourish. Playing a part comes as naturally as breathing, as naturally as healing.

“A present?” he asks, checking his nails as if the mere thought bores him. “That’s interesting, I guess.”

Nico doesn’t even bother to indulge him.

“Here, you massive dweeb,” he snorts. He hands over a small paper box, hand-folded and thin. “I can practically feel you vibrating.”

There is only one thing in this world, quite possibly, that Will likes more than proving Nico wrong, and that is letting his boyfriend spoil him. In all honesty it’s a real challenge sometimes, because Nico is really very good at being everything Will has ever wanted even if he has wrong opinions on most movies. Truly Will’s life is a joke at which the gods must howl with laughter.

Eagerly taking the box, he holds it up to his face, carefully inspecting every corner. The paper is regular printer paper, slightly waterlogged (from the Big House printer, then, ‘cause Will was carrying a giant bag of saline in from storage when he was eleven years old and tripped on the shipment of office supplies that someone had left, for some reason, in the middle of the fucking hallway, and the bag had exploded on impact all over four boxes of printer paper holding one thousand pages each) and carefully bent into shape. He recognises Nico’s handiwork from the dozens of origami paper sculptures he’s been gifted over the past few months.

“Open it.”

“What is it?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “What did I just say.”

“No, I mean — it’s not my birthday or anything.”

“So?”

“So you’ve wrapped me up a present! I want to know why before I open it.”

“Just because,” Nico mumbles, pressing a kiss to his temples. “Not everything needs a reason, nosey.”

“If nothing had reason then we would still be premordial soup,” Will mutters, but pops open the lid anyway.

He gasps.

“Oh my gods, Nico, you —”

Nico’s smiling smugly, but Will barely notices. Inside the box is a black chain darker than shadow, so dark it doesn’t even glint in the heavy sun, and dozens of little charms, from polished obsidian to a ball of slowly flickering flame.

“You like?”

“It’s gorgeous!”

He makes a triumphant nose, pumping his fist, and says, “Fuck those suitors, I fucking win,” and the funniest part is that he’s damn serious. There’s a glint in his eye identical to when he wins a sword fight, to when Connor loses a bet to him, to when twenty-odd bets are stacked against him and he’s got a full house. Something dangerous and wild and superior and Will is not an enabler, okay, he is not, but he is only so strong and there is only so much he can do when pretty boys wrap their arms around him and smirk at him and bring him bracelets they made in the Underworld. He’d like to meet someone who wouldn’t fold, actually.

“There were no suitors, you loser,” he says, but he’s flushed, pleased smile stretched wide across his face, and Nico’s grinning that too-wide grin and tilting Will’s face closer with the edge of his thumb, like he barely had to try. And there’s always a little bit of shadow leeching off him when he comes back from a quest, an aura surrounding him like he’s squaring off to the sun, and of course the wild churning in Will’s stomach has nothing to do with that but what’s he to do, really? What is a warm-blooded person with eyes that can see to do when faced with such a look?

“Of course there aren’t. They know I would reap their actual souls.”

“Possessive, much.”

“You’re literally going red.”

“Shut up.”

And he does, but only because Will makes him.

Although judging by the hand he shoves in his hair, he doesn’t seem to mind.