#working rats

[bigfatbreak]

load bearing

[mrghostrat]

transparent slut for icons etc :)

[lazer-t]

3D Animation Commission

Character belongs to murdermuffin666 on twitter

[stealingpotatoes]

Hello great potato overlord, may we receive some TL4J shenanigans?

does "they all fell in a lake or smthn and one of them fares a lot better when soggy than the others" count as a shenanigan

(commission info // tip jar!)

[hamable]

Murph is a really talented improviser, actor, and comedian. He immediately switched from Barry 6, The Biggest Man, to Kugrash, The Littlest Scrungle, and it was like I was watching two different ppl on stage. That man flipped a switch and, holy shit, Barry fully disappeared and a rat man from New York took his place.

[hhyurein]

slowly but surely posting my old mp100 art onto here.... expect me to pop up in the tags often....... twitter really liked this one for some reason

[r-aindr0p]

That last chapter of Glorious masquerade was crazy.

[rat-detector]

Fight.

For the sake of everything and everyone you know.

Fight.

Rage against the dying of the light, even when all seems to be ripped away.

Fight.

Never back down, never stop. Just keep fighting until everyone is safe. These are dark times and we MUST be there for everyone who needs it. Use this anger and hate and push it forward to make a difference, to change something in this world for the better when everything seems to be going to shit.

Just.

Fight.

[wilsonmybeloved]

ive literally never interacted with the rats smp ever besides like once

but ren and martyn exist. and a lot of my other favorite creators. so we're going headfirst into rat yaoi. raoi, if you will. ratataoi?? ratatouille yaoi? ...ill work on it

[chaoticace2005]

[a-heist-of-words]

In the most 'Greek theatre' of ways, this is a tragedy. Tragedies are meant to teach onlookers: "See how these rich idiots, despite their riches, cannot escape the consequences of their actions, their hubris, and their defiance of the laws of common sense and decency? See their awful demise? Don't be like them."

[loveyourhate]

Sitting 0 feet apart because

[lazer-t]

3D Model Commission

Character belongs to murdermuffin666 on twitter

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

hope you feel better soon!

I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[mildmayfoxe]

the thing about trinkets is i always want them to have an interesting provenance. like if i find a cool little object at work that’s cheating. it should come from a mysterious box at a garage sale that i have to dig through for approx twenty minutes before i unearth a little treasure and pay twenty five cents for it. if i find a stone jaguar statuette prominently displayed at the antiques store that’s too easy. i should have to work for it. it should be hidden in a secret compartment in a drawer of a six thousand dollar secretary and the proprietor should look at me knowingly and say “ah, you found it” and then give me a really good deal for being such a little genius