#wow yall

[michaelnothing]

Once upon a time, in an eccentric town nestled deep within a dense forest, there lived a peculiar man named Michael Nothing. Michael was a friendly yet mysterious character, perpetually clad in worn-out overalls and a wry smile on his face. However, his most notorious trait was not his attire or demeanor, but rather the immense and hairy pecker that protruded from his trousers.

This colossal appendage was the talk of the town, standing tall and proud with a mass of untamed hair covering its entirety. It had become something of a legend, whispered about in hushed tones, and the subject of many exaggerated tales amongst the townsfolk. Some claimed it possessed magical powers, while others considered it a curse bestowed upon Michael by some mischievous deity.

One sunny day, a rumor spread like wildfire through the town, claiming that Michael's massive pecker had a strange affinity for bear mouths. As preposterous as it sounded, it quickly captured the attention of the townspeople, who were always eager for a new spectacle. Curiosity got the better of them, and they eagerly awaited an opportunity to witness this bizarre occurrence firsthand.

Word reached the ears of a traveling circus, where a skillful bear trainer named Sergei happened to be passing through. Sergei had heard legends about Michael's unusual appendage and decided to venture into town to see if the tales held any truth.

As evening descended upon the town, the crowd gathered in hushed anticipation, eager to behold the seemingly impossible. Michael, aware of the spectacle that awaited, couldn't help but feel both amused and slightly embarrassed by the attention his peculiarity attracted.

Suddenly, the town square fell silent as the circus caravan arrived, accompanied by the magnificent bears under Sergei's command. The bears, adorned with sparks of curiosity themselves, were unaware of the extraordinary act that awaited them.

With a grand flourish, Sergei introduced the bears to Michael, who stood resolute, bashful yet determined. The moment had arrived for the peculiar prophecies to be tested. Would Michael's enormous, hairy pecker truly have a mystifying power over bear mouths?

A hush fell over the crowd as Michael let out a deep breath, and with a gentle gesture, he revealed his pecker to the bears. The magnificent creatures observed it, sniffing and nudging it out of fascination, but nothing extraordinary occurred. The rumors seemed to be just that – rumors.

Michael, slightly disappointed, gave a sheepish smile to the crowd, apologizing for any false expectations. But before he could complete his apology, one of the bears stood upright and let out a deep growl.

Enigmatic tendrils of energy crackled through the air, and the unimaginable happened. The bear's mouth began morphing, elongating into a captivating mix of human lips and a bear's muzzle. A spectacle of transformation unfolded before the astonished eyes of everyone present, defying all logic and reason.

Gasps filled the air as the bear, now bearing a magnificent yet surreal hybrid mouth, leaned closer towards Michael's pecker. And then, with a delicate touch, they connected—a mesmerizing union between a bear's newfound mouth and Michael's prodigious appendage.

The crowd erupted into applause, shock, and sheer delight as the bears lined up eagerly to experience the captivating connection themselves. Michael, still somewhat bewildered, realized the true wonder his uniqueness held—the ability to bridge the gap between the human and animal world.

From that day forward, the townspeople celebrated Michael Nothing and his hairy pecker, not for the absurdity it appeared, but for the incredible bond it fostered. Word of the magical connection spread far and wide, attracting visitors from distant lands who sought solace in the extraordinary harmony between the human and animal realms.

And so, in that peculiar town, amidst the whispering forests, a legend was born, reminding everyone that sometimes, the most astonishing gifts can emerge from the most unexpected places.

[supertaliart]

A continuation of my previous Skywalker Twins comic - feat Yoda part 3

[chloesimaginationthings]

In every FNAF universe William Afton can't count

[dawn-the-rithmatist]

I don’t know if anyone will be able to do it like a starstruck odyssey did it. Being on your phone is 100% the right thing to do in a battle sometimes. Two guys make out sloppy style while the slugs in their brain duke it out. Entire armies of space ships are being put on hold by the psychic comms officer. Unhinged, all of it. No one is doing it like the Wurst

[zebratimw]

"All those empty rooms

We could have been anywhere, anywhere else

Instead, I made a bed with apathy

My heart knew the weight

Ten years worth of dust and neglect

We made our peace with weariness and let it be..."

(Song: The Moon will Sing by the Crane Wives)

[ashwii]

Okay now that booping is sorta kinda outta the way for the day, it's Donnie's turn :DD continuing on with the idea of "S3 finale designs" -w-

S3 finale Leo!

[separatist-apologist]

Genuinely, and I mean this kindly, but learning to recognize bait and not engaging with it will change your fandom experience.

[cringelordofchaos]

[ryssbelle]

Drew a bunch of Marinettes in a bunch of different artists styles it was a lot of fun!!

Artists who's styles I mimicked: @buggachat @hamsternamedmarinette @ladybeug @sabertoothwalrus and @anna-scribbles all epic artists 🤟😎

[midoristeashop]

Long car trips mean hunch over my ipad and film dumb stupid videos in restaurants at 11pm 😍 (future me screw u idk if it’s shaky also do not perceive me)

(That one vine)

Also have the things

[robiinurheart33]

Ok ok Johnny but he can’t accept the fact that people love him?

First girlfriend. Went south real fast and realised he was gay.

First boyfriend. Was bi-curious. First heartbreak too.

Second boyfriend. Only wanted him for his body. Self explanatory.

Third boyfriend. Way too emotionally unavailable, felt like they weren’t even dating at a point. Turns out he already has a partner.

You get the gist.

At a very young age, Johnny was aware of his unfortunate personality. School fights, family scoldings, bedroom sobbing, it’s all just a blur to him now. It’s not like he had the worst life out there, no. But he can’t shake the fact that he can’t really remember anything about his childhood. The trauma stuck though, unfortunately.

He could never really seem to shake off that “unloveable” blanket on his shoulders.

It’s not that bad, in retrospect. His friends like him, sure. They tolerate him. He knows he’s loud, he knows he’s brash, he’s a lot to deal with! He understands. So every once in a while, he’ll just…back off. Leave everyone alone and just spend some time alone. The horrors do get to him when he’s alone in his room, clutching the fabric of his shirt and trying to get ahold of his breathing, but it’s basically nothing to what everyone else has to endure! He’s selfish, he knows it already, always needy, always wanting. This is the least he can do to make sure that his loved ones aren’t tipped over the boiling point and actually leave him for good.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself at times.

Then he meets ghost.

Powerful, strong, admirable Ghost. He blew his fucking lid. He’s even bigger than the rumours suggest. He’s professional, clean. He’s everything that Soap wishes to be.

He’s jealous right off the bat. How could he not be?

Honestly, he feels a bit bad for the guy at the start. Soap’s laying it on thick with the touching and the questions. He’s obviously fucking with him a bit, bit to be fair he’s not really doing much to stop him either. As time goes on, it becomes a weird sort of admiration/jealousy thing. He still is jealous of Ghost, but not to an extreme extent that he could be.

Ghost is another very peculiar case, one that Soap doesn’t seem to mind prodding. After a few missions together, he could see why he was so infamous. But still, Ghost wasn’t pushing back. Has anyone done this to him before? Why was he just letting this happen? Ghost might find him weird, sure, but he’s the most curious disturbing motherfucker soap’s ever met.

The army isn’t exactly a place to find someone to get their dick wet, homophobes around the corner at every turn. Soap’s just accepted it as part of life now, not really wanting to think much on it but having that fact lurk at the back of his mind. It’s a bit depressing, sure, to not have anyone get to know his actual self, but then again he was sure that anyone who truly got to know him wouldn’t talk to him ever again. If it’s not the gay thing, it’s the army thing. If its not the army thing, it the personality thing. Whatever. John’s gotten used to it.

However, though some unexplainable force (the SAS and Price), Soap and Ghost had become some sort of dynamic duo now. They’d fought together, lost together, gone through some of the most horrific weathers known to man, and they’d both survived under some miracle. Well, soap survived. He never doubted ghost would.

He got very close though. Way too close for Soap’s liking. They were in some fuck-ass country upside down the earth, down to his last mag and ghost clipped in the shoulder. They were hauling ass just- away. They didn’t know when exfil would get there, or where. Their main objective was just to survive. Ghost was making a very vulnerable wheezing sound from his throat and Soap’s gun was overheating, burning though his gloves.

“Soap- Sargent.” Ghost whispered, somehow always remaining calm in the most chaotic situation Soap’s been in so far. Either that, or he’s just really fuckin tired.

“No’ now, L.T, tryna get us to safety.”

“Soap, leave me behind.”

“What? Listen, I’ve got no time for your stupid heroism crap, okay? Just- shut up.”

“MacTavish, im serious. I have nothing waiting for me. I’ll be okay. Just go. Stay safe.”

“Whot the hell did i just say?” He snapped, turning towards him. “I’ve go’ no time for this. You’re coming wit me whether you like it or not.” Soap jabs a finger into his chest, leaning in close until he’s sure Ghost can see the faintest scar on his right eyebrow from screwing around with a razor with his friends, trying to give himself a eyebrow slit.

“You’ve got me, haven’t ya? You’ve got Price, and the people on your team are counting on you. I’m counting on you. So you can die somewhere else, in the bumfuck a’ nowhere, but you’re not allowed to die today, now. Ya hear me?”

Like this, gunpowder and dust making his nose itchy, looking intensely at Ghost to make sure his point is drive home, there’s a look in his eyes that soap thinks he’s never seen before. He- he kinda looks like-

How Soap looks at Ghost.

With admiration.

Oh.

So, yeah. They ran out of there on the air of their asses, Soap laughing as the final hits of adrenaline pulses his heart, Ghost leaning against him with the same look in his eye, and they’ve never exactly been the same after that.

Soap chalked it off as it being in the heat of the moment kinda thing, but he’s been consistently catching Ghost’s eye staring at him from a distance away, just staring, with that strange look in his eye. Not always with the same emotion, Soap guesses, but still. It’s close enough. He doesnt know what’s happening, or what he did, but something changed. And it’s driving him insane. It’s not that Ghost wasn’t already friendly in his own weird ghost way, but now he’s being friendly in a normal way.

It’s so weird.

He’ll be waiting at the gun range for Soap like he knows he’d appear there, toss him an apple when he feels peckish, slap his hand away when he needs to change bandages muttering something about him not doing it properly. It’s weird, and it’s nice, and it’s making soap feel all itchy and hot. he can’t even scratch himself anymore as a soothing tick, Ghost will just slap his hand away and grumble a “stop that.”

It’s weird, and soap can’t help but enjoy it.

He feels a bit selfish, feeling like he’s somehow taking advantage of ghost’s kindness, but for what? He’s feeling guilty but what exactly is he being selfish about? Maybe a mental checkup is in order, he’s losing his mind a bit. They’re friends, that’s all. It’s not…that unheard of that ghost would have friends, isn’t it? He should feel honoured to be his…fist? Again, Soap doesn’t know a lot about him.

Time passes. He dips his toes in guerrilla warfare for the first time, can’t say he’s a fan. Been backstabbed, shot, and survived. Hes earned his nickname, and sticks by it. (Hah) Though thick and thin, Ghost’s been there throughout it all. An angel guiding him to the churches, a leader who he would follow to the pits of hell, a friend when he needed one. After all that, the questions just never seemed to slow down. About his family, himself, his hobbies… to keep him awake, to pass the time, just whenever. Mostly Soap would get grumbles and short answers, proper sentences if he’s in the mood (which is all the time) or drunk enough. He’s flustered under all the attention and he knows it, itching beneath the helmet and the layers of armour. Soap is brash, and loud, and a little bit of a pyromaniac. He knows it. He’s fine with it. All jagged edges, no slowing down in sight. He doesnt know what to do with the change coming. He does the only thing he knows to do. He runs. After all of it is said and done, with makarov in the streets now, not much is to be done other than waiting for further instruction.

Applies leave for a few days, rented a airbnb online, have some alone time. Reset. Easy. Simple. Hes done this all his life. But when he was just about to slip out, Ghost suddenly appeared right in front of him.

“Gah- Jesus, fuck, ghost. What’s wrong?”

“You’re leaving.”

“Yeah, I am. You signed off on the papers.”

“Why?”

“Just…some time. To myself.”

“Is that it?”

“…yeah?” What else does he want me to say?

Ghost looks like he.. squirms a bit, which is weird. Ghost doesn’t squirm.

“Just… the countryside. And stuff.” This is the worst casual conversation he’s ever had with Ghost.

“Um… i got you something.” Then he’s holding something out.

“Huh? Really- this is a rock.” What the fuck.

“It’s a rock from Las Almas.”

“You… kept a rock. From Las Almas. What, you couldn’t have stopped by an actual gift shop just around the corner? I think i saw one right around where i found your knife lodged into-”

“-You done yet?” He snaps.

“Apparently not, sir. You wanna explain the rock?” Soap’s being a bitch.

“Just that… you’re going to be alone… and. Makarov.”

“It’s a legitimate place, ghost. you wont find anyone there.”

“Not just that, it’s like-” He groans slightly and scratches the back of his head. “You’re going to be alone, and the last time you were alone..”

Oh.

“It’s just a reminder that like, I wasn’t going to give it to you this soon but, i was there. With you. You weren’t truly alone, johnny. And.. you’re going to be alone now. Actually alone. And i just….its. I’m here. At Redhill. I’m going to be here. You know where to find me.”

You’ve got me, haven’t ya?

Oh shit.

Soap doesn’t know what to say. He can feel the tip of his ears burning, pricking down his cheeks and flush down his neck. He doesnt know how to stand properly, what to say, how to think. Because everything he;s thinking right now should not be applied to his lieutenant.

This doesn’t mean anything, right? It doesn’t change anything. It’s still the same. Soap knows that Ghost cares about him. He’s his Sargent. He’s his Sargent. But not in that way. They’re friends. The rock from Las Almas. He’s fine. They’re fine. It’s just like the rock is a physical manifestation and real evidence that Ghost may or may not like him. Jesus, he shouldn’t think like that. He’s too quiet. He should say something. His lips twitch.

“Thank you.” THAT’S IT?? SAY MORE.

“I’ll know where to look, then.” Soap gives the most half flustered, half assed smile he’s ever given to anyone. He cant even begin to imagine how he looks right now. His heart pulls. Ghost looks away. He feels like he’s going to be swept off his feet in a bad (good) way.

“Right then.” He clears his throat, disappearing down the corner of the hallway. Soap gapes as he stares after him. What was that? What was him? What? He looks down at the heavier-than-it should-look rock in his sweaty palms, and swallows.

This doesn’t change anything. They’re still working together. They’re the lieutenant and Sargent of the 141 Taskforce. He’s fine. They’re fine.

Everything is okay.

[localfanbaselurker]

When I tell you I RAN to make this one

[chloesimaginationthings]

Gregory believes in the Glammike FNAF theory,,

[rafeandonlyrafe]

proper thank you

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only!, stepbro!rafe, sending nudes, stepcest, kinda dumb/baby reader???

“carry me up to bed rafey?” you coo at your step brother, fluttering your lashes as your pout turns into a giggle when he sighs, unable to resist your pleading face.

“you're the most annoying little sis ever.” rafe says, calling you the nickname just to tease you as he leans down, scooping you into his arms. he carries you like you weigh nothing, so easily slotting into the good older stepbrother role when your parents married, despite him being only a few months older than you.

“thank you rafey.” you say sweetly as he walks you up the stairs, your arms holding him around the shoulders, head leaned against his broad chest.

“yeah, you gotta give me a better thank you than that.” rafe rolls his eyes as he carries you into your bedroom. only once the door is closed do you press a wet kiss to his cheek as a proper thank you.

rafe plops you down on the bed unceremoniously. “there ya go.” he waves as he walks away, knowing it's not actually goodnight as you let out a whine.

“tuck me in?”

rafe hides his smirk before turning around, putting on his slightly annoyed act like he always does when you ask him.

rafe pulls the fluffy blanket out from under you. it's slightly weighted so it naturally tucks around your body anyways as rafe covers you, but his hands still move slowly, feeling your body as he pushes in the blanket until you're stuck tight underneath it.

“anything else? want me to tell you a bedtime story?” rafe says it as a joke, but with the way your eyes light up, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, recounting three little pigs from memory the best he can.

“alright, you gotta get to bed now.” rafe glances at the clock on your nightstand as the hour hand ticks closer to midnight. “goodnight.”

“goodnight rafey.” you smile softly before letting out a yawn. “ill give you a proper thank you soon.”

rafe isn't sure what you mean until he makes it back to his room, scrolling aimlessly through his phone until a text message appears from you.

he clicks it to open up the image, his eyes widening and dick swelling as he sees you in a silky nightgown, the swell of your breasts clearly visible, nipples poking through the fabric. he recognizes the nightgown from a few days ago, but you clearly got further undressed.

rafes eyes bulge as the next image loads, the same pose, now sans nightgown, tits bare and thighs clenched together to make a delicious looking v that rafe wants to dive into.

a proper thank you ;) reads your text, along with one last image, this time with your legs spread, smile on your face as your cunt is on clear display. you took the marker tool to add to your lower stomach “property of big brother.”

rafe is in your room untucking you from your bed before the clock reaches midnight.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[vinesaucejoelfacts]

FACT:

[clickety-clacker]

Been seeing so many cool Clickies on my dashboard since getting into GGG, I just had to take the time to draw a few of them- plus, it was a bit of a challenge to try new styles. A lot of these guys were also super influential to how I draw and even think about Click Clack on my own time, so you should definitely check them out! Names below the cut cus it got long heehoo

Top left: @malartsorte

Top middle (holding papers): @scribblelimbo

Top right: @wishgraanted

Leftmost middle: @beastwhimsy

Middle (peace sign!): @sootnuki

Rightmost middle: @molabuddy

Bottom left: @pespillo

Bottom middle: @artuurle

Bottom right: @modmad

I know I said it already, but all of yall are super cool and I had a lot of fun challenging myself to make this! Keep on being awesome 👍