#repost from my old blog <3

[schoute]

Shut up your local jester by sticking your tongue down her throat

#enver gortash #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #enver Gortash x oc #oc: Oridove d'Chanteur #reposting my art from the old blog since tags work here #scouty scribbles

[les4lesbushfire]

Valentine's / Lovecore Pyro, Spy, and Sniper icons!

like or reblog if using/saving, thnx!

#tf2 pyro #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 #team fortress 2 #icons #repost from my old icons blog <3 #temp 8

[thylaseraph]

JANUARY, 1995

It’s a shooting day and Dean’s ears are ringing with the pop of the .22 that’s growing heavy in his hands. At Bobby’s house he always has to wear earmuffs when he shoots; usually Dean complains because they look stupid, but right now his ears are so frozen he’s wishing he had a pair of his own.

He points the muzzle at the ground and shakes his head out, cupping a stiff hand to his cheek. There’s exactly zero blood flow happening in his face, and the cold makes each shot ring out so loudly he has to try not to flinch. And his socks are wet. Pretty miserable shit.

John’s on his way back from replacing the target, face grim.

“How’d I do?” Dean calls. Too loud, judging from the way his dad scowls.

“You’re blowing through ammo and you only got six on the page.”

Dean slumps. “Crap.”

“Yeah, it is. You need to get your shit together, I can tell your heart isn’t in this. You reload yet?”

Dean sniffles, even though he can’t feel his nose, either. “No.”

“No?”

“No, sir.”

“So get going. Show me you can do better.”

Dean’s fingers feel like ten useless icicles. He slides the chamber open and clink-clink-clinks ten bullets inside, then carefully closes the action. The Beretta is a testy bitch that jams constantly. Dad only trusts it for training and seems likely to chuck it soon.

He barely seems affected by the chill. Mostly he looks bored. “Go on and take a few steps forward. Ladies’ tee until you get ‘em all on the page, and then we’ll think about moving you back again.”

Dean’s skin crawls with embarrassment and he wants to protest—he could do better if it were warmer and if he weren’t so tired already—but obediently he moves closer to the target.

“Alright.”

He raises the gun and clicks the safety off. He’s probably more cautious with it than John cares, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

The target is a sheet of paper with orange circles pinned to a stump surrounded by casings. He lines the center up in his sight and then aims a little lower to compensate because the Beretta shoots high. God, if Dean could get his hands on that ivory-grip Colt, he’d die happy.

He empties her out, gets about nine bullets on the page. Four of them land tight in the center. The stray shot is only because he overcorrected his aim at first.

He turns back to his dad with a grin on his face, feeling pretty proud. There’s a pleasant buzz of warm feeling in his nose and eartips along with the ringing in his ears as he traipses back to the ammo box. “Not so crappy, huh?”

John shakes his head. “Dunno where you learned to be such a brag.”

“What am I supposed to be, humble? Pass.” He squats by the box, breathing on his numb hands before delicately picking up the bullets. “Hard pass.”

“Being humble is what keeps you alive. Nine out of ten only seems good on a target that doesn’t move. It isn’t your best—or it shouldn’t be.” John’s silence is as unforgiving as his voice. Dean watches his words sink through the winter air like smoke.“We stay here until you can actually hit what you’re aiming at.”

Through no fault of his own, Dean’s mouth is suddenly letting loose the complaint he’s been trying to hold in. “Come on, give me a break, Dad. It’s freezing, and I’m tired, and I’m about to have frostbite on my carpal tunnel. I feel like I can barely pull the damn trigger!”

His father’s boots crush against the frozen ground louder than a gun. He looks up quickly, stomach dropping. Dad and his rifle make a stark silhouette against the cold white sky above.

“You don’t ever speak to me like that again. You sound like your brother, like some insolent child, not a man I’d trust with my weapon. I know I taught you better than this. When lives depend on you, are you still gonna be making excuses? Are you gonna be whining about the weather when it’s your bad aim that gets somebody killed? Is it gonna be the trigger’s fault when you get yourself killed?”

“No, sir,” Dean replies, heart beating in his throat.

“You’re laughing, you’re fucking around, I can see you’re not taking this seriously. You still don’t understand the stakes. Think about Sam—you know whose fault it’ll be if you can’t take care of him or the lives you say you want to protect?”

“My fault, sir. Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Don’t be begging for respect when you haven’t earned it. The only reason we’re still out here is you. You being cold and tired right now is on you. This is all in your control. Your life is in your own hands, nobody else’s. Do you understand that?”

His eyes are so heavy.

Dean nods and looks down, unable to speak. He is so stupid.

The dry air is hurting his head; he won’t be surprised if they get back to the cabin and find Sam with a bloody nose. Kid’s got a fragile sinus. The sooner Dean makes this, the sooner they can get back. He loads fast.

“Sam told me that you went hunting,” John says, tone slipping back to conversational.

“Yeah,” Dean says, grateful as he slides the clip home. “Bobby showed us how to do animal calls.”

“Being able to hunt and eat what you’ve killed is important. For when you have to keep yourself fed, but for building character, too. A hunter should be able to hunt.”

“And fish,” Dean adds. “Hey, we should go again soon.”

John nods, the barest hint of warmth. “My point is, everything you need to survive should be in your power. Your gun is your second most important tool after grit. Even when you won’t know if you will survive, you have to know that you can survive.”

Dean nods, and after a few seconds of silence, he supplies, “Bobby makes good venison chili.” He doesn’t mention that Bobby specifically said John was not invited to any of his suppers.

“You get one?” John asks. “A deer?”

Dean stands slowly, thumbing the safety. He doesn’t click it off, yet, and he keeps it pointed at the ground. Like Bobby keeps cussing him out about. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

Dean’s mouth is sour, the pit in his stomach is growing again, and somehow he’s sweating. John sounds like he knows the answer why.

Dean clicks the safety off and Dad doesn’t even look twice, just waits. Dean walks back to his spot and gets into position. Behind him, John sighs. He sounds so tired.

“If you can’t even kill a deer, how do you think you’re gonna be able to shoot things that look human?”

Dean aims at the target and tries to breathe. The freeze is in his lungs, now, January’s teeth seizing his insides so every inhale is sharp. The target wavers in his sight as he tries to keep his hands still. It’s just an orange circle. Just a tree stump. Just practice, so he’s fine.

He exhales slowly, finger curling around the trigger. He’s fine and he’s got this.

“I mean, what am I supposed to think, Deanna,” John says lowly, voice pinched with disappointment, “you tell me you want me to treat you like a man, but you can’t even—”

Dean fires, ten rounds in steady, thundering succession until the ringing in his ears drowns out the sound of the chamber clicking empty.

The target is in tatters. He thinks they all landed.

His chest is still tight, and raw, and like maybe something has shaken loose or broken free. With shaking hands, he zips up his jacket, and then he turns and walks to his father’s side.

“It’s Dean,” he says thinly. He clears his throat and adds, “Sir.”

John’s looking at him and Dean can’t make out what’s going on behind his eyes. After a moment he nods, and then jerks his head toward their gear. “Pack up.”

As Dean’s cleaning up—collecting fallen casings and discarded targets, and making sure every gun is unloaded and every safety is on because Sam always pokes around even when they tell him not to—John claps him on the shoulder. His voice is soft again.

“I’m just worried about you, I need you to know that. I want you to be able to take care of yourself and Sammy when I’m not around. This world is mean, and cold, and it’ll tear you apart. I can be hard on you kids…I push you too hard, I know it, and it still won’t be enough to keep you safe. And that kills me.”

John cups the back of his head. Dean meets his eyes and sees a world in there that he can’t begin to fathom. “You did good today, Dean, really good. I don’t want you to think I have any doubts—about how strong you are, and how brave. And I trust I can depend on you, son.”

Somewhere inside Dean, a knot loosens, like he’s finally been allowed to breathe a little. It’s good.

#repost from my old blog #trans dean winchester #transphobia #misgendering #deadnaming #parental abuse #verbal abuse #forced masculinzation emotional stunting meow meow meow #bound for the floor by local h released 1996 changing nothing in deans life but becoming a soundtrack #dean: i earned respect! john: if i push him hard enough he will kill so good :3 #ficlet #supernatural #trans dean #cw misgendering #tw misgendering #deadname #tw gun mention #tw gun use #mine

[all-or-nothing-baby]

WHEN THE NIGHT HAS COME AND THE LAND IS DARK

.

Sometimes, on cold nights—and even some not-so-cold nights—Geralt wakes abruptly in the forest with something tickling his cheek and bothering the inside of his nostrils.

Jaskier's hair is like silken web; soft and fine, and fucking irritating when it tangles itself in your eyelashes like dandelion fluff caught in tree sap.

On these particular cold (and not-so-cold) nights, Geralt wants to grunt loudly and swear and push Jaskier roughly from Geralt's space on Geralt's bed roll because what the fuck, bard?

He never does though.

Not even this time, as Geralt awakes to that mass of brunette spiderwebs in his actual fucking mouth, with one of Jaskier's surprisingly muscular arms and a long shapely leg wrapped tightly around Geralt's midriff as if the cretin is some sort of tentacled ocean dweller. Oh, and, for fucks sake, the idiot bard's stupid slackened, drool-covered face mashed right into the crook of Geralt's neck.

Half blowing, half spitting Jaskier's hair from his mouth, Geralt balls his fists and grits his teeth and sighs, heavily.

With the moon fat and high in the inky sky and sounds of the wild all around them, he will try once more to find sleep.

Closing his eyes again, Geralt pointedly ignores how Jaskier smells of lavender and forest ferns. He shuns the way Jaskier's soft, rhythmic snores play their easy tune in his ear. He takes no note of Jaskier's even heartbeat and how the sound of it is a welcome comfort in the dead of night, pays no heed to the shallow breaths leaving Jaskier's mouth and the way each exhale warms more than just the spot underneath Geralt's jawbone, and he doesn't spare even a bit of attention for the way those smooth lips with their perfect cupid's bow feel on the skin of his throat as Jaskier mutters the sweetest song lyrics from his dreams.

As sleep finally does pull him under, Geralt also most definitely does not take to heart the way the idiot bard makes everything better.

.

(from my deleted witcher blog behonesthowsmysinging)

#reposting old stuff from deleted blogs my beloved <3 #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher #witcher fic #ficlets #fic #fanfic #aonb writes #all-or-nothing-baby

[cybervom1t]

it’s so hot when they actually try and get to know you lol

#wordvomit #reposting shit I miss from my old blog <\3 #ask me about my interests and I’m immediately dropping to my knees

[tricoufamily]

2023 Tumblr Top 10

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#villareal SWEEEEEEEEEEEEP #it's boring when there's cc i wish you could exclude tags so i could see only non cc posts #but this is the fall poster and first post in the top 10 good this is how it should be 🧘‍♂️ #the first post is my favorite post of the year and among my favorites ever <3 maybe my second favorite #i can't share my favorite favorite from my old blog bc it'd be spoilers but i'm so reposting it the second i can #and i kinda think even vaguely describing it would be spoilers bc it may have already been referenced in the story. in a way #why did you all like those paranormal investigators so much though #if i had known i would have used srwe on the full body shots they're so low quality it drives me crazy tbh lmao

[ms-scarletwings]

Doctor M(andril), A Villainous Demonstration of Crafting the Perfect Sequel

I’ll cut right to the chase, there is no baddie in the Sly franchise (to me) that has before and will ever again top the writing of this monke right here. That’s not to put down Clockwerk in any capacity. In fact, the majority of what makes M so amazing is not what he is in a vacuum, but what he serves to build upon the events that preceded him. Clockwerk is the giant who’s shoulders he stands on, the two games before him the backdrop that makes him shine so brightly. I’ve always been a strong believer that stories are in large part only as good as their antagonists, and this is what Dr.M has contributed to make Honor Among Thieves the narrative peak of the Sly Cooper franchise.

For minor starters, everything about this freak is downright unsettling.

A mandrill monkey was a great pick for a scary looking, vicious little mastermind. Even with a fresh coat of purple and his short stature, he looks about as repulsive and menacing as he is on the inside. He’s completely obsessed to the point of being consumed metaphorically by his envy and resentment of Connor. He gave us a lot of interesting insight into the life and relationships of Sly’s father while leaving us with even more mystery and questions to ponder. He’s meticulous and intellectually gifted in his ways, but it doesn’t do anything to overshadow the fact that he’s also an utterly deranged madman.

Clockwerk’s hatred for the cooper line, as genuine and strong as it was, had this almost detached element to it, being more like a means to an end and fueled by superiority and rivalry competition. It was kinda hard to get your head around it, and the second game keeps him in your thoughts more like a slumbering eldritch horror waiting to rise again or a pure, immortal force of evil itself, rather than a person. He isn’t even really “anthro” in his design. Clockwerk is a monster, a robotic husk of a former individual.

Dr.M’s hatred for the Coopers on the other hand is… uncomfortably humanized. He’s narcissistic, yet he’s also paranoid and motivated by a rage that’s responding to his sense of inferiority and victimhood. He’ll use his warped justifications to stoop to the most heinous acts- not just because he wants to prove himself better- but because he wants to destroy/take everything Conner loves and accomplished. Clockwerk’s hate was cold and mechanic. M’s hatred is personal and boiling over with venom. Both of them were defined by little more than their loathing of Coopers, but while Clockwerk kept himself alive with his vendetta, M’s was the very thing that led to his demise.

Clockwork was “the enemy of all Coopers”, but he left the final member of the bloodline to wither and then bloom more vibrantly than ever to return and defeat him. He underestimated Sly, and was content to live on and continue his own work with the overconfidence that he had already won. I wonder in my head sometimes if maybe his power was actually starting to fade in the light of seeing that vendetta finally resolved. Or if that time-worn weariness and frustration was part of why Sly, barely an adult, was able to accomplish what generations of his most skilled family had failed to. He never knew Clockwerk during his prime, the great monstrous owl that his clan used to live in constant terror of.

Doctor M feels like he was really Sly’s own Clockwerk. A fresh and unfamiliar threat to truly test every skill he had spent a whole career of thieving to master, and someone who’s own history was far more entangled with Sly’s blood than he could have imagined. Clockwerk condemned him to death (or destitution) for no other reason than being a Cooper, but Dr.M actually wanted to watch the life leave his eyes because he was Sly Cooper, son of Connor.

And he’s not just fitting to compare to the old bird, but he’s more overtly a direct foil to Bentley’s character too. He’s a dark prophecy of the worst possible result of what would happen if the Cooper gang fell out with each other in a similar manner, or if some of Bentley’s foreshadowed insecurities (that started presenting after he became wheelchair bound) were allowed to fester instead of him finding support from others. That turtle is also the only character that Dr.M is able to speak to like an equal, because he sees himself in Bentley despite being on opposite sides.

He’s a really, really well-written main antagonist that does not try to take a whole new direction like Neyla; instead, he’s like a revamped version of Clockwerk’s “idea” done without milking out any more references or revivals of the bird and his role, which by this point was well-concluded and moved on from… The past of Sly’s family coming back to haunt him, the weight of honoring the legacy of his ancestors, and the struggle of exploring who he is both as a Cooper and the leader of his own found family, and Honor Among Thieves checked those boxes without ruining the closure he got back in Paris. Band of Theives will always be my personal favorite to return to, but all of what M represents, along with many other reasons, is why I consider the third to narratively be the best game out of the series.

#sly cooper #sly cooper villains #sly 3 #sly 3 honor among thieves #dr.m #sly cooper dr.m #repost from my old blog #but polished up #doctor M #sly cooper analysis #scarlet talks about things

[krispy-tuna]

#koi boi eating pizza :3 #repost from old blog #my art #akira nishikiyama #yakuza #rgg #ryu ga gotoku

[twistedshipper]

drink my dreams and sell my soul, i'm deranged for rock + roll

#arthur x morgana #fanvidfeed #viddingisart #2 years ago today i uploaded this vid #and so reposting to this new blog of mine #with an updated thumbnail #i think that's what i'll do from now on with my old edits #i'll repost them here on the anniversary of their release #that way i don't flood you all with all my old edits and post them at once #anyway if you'd like the story to this one it's in the description on youtube #thanks for watching <3 #Youtube

[impishsensei]

❝ my students are watching, so help me look even cooler, okay? ❞ 

꒰ ɪᴍᴘɪꜱʜꜱᴇɴꜱᴇɪ ꒱ — ‧₊˚✩彡 an indie, private, & highly selective roleplay blog for gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen. please read pinned post before following/interacting. promo credit.

♡ written by milk ♡

#jjk rp #jujutsu kaisen rp #manga rp #anime rp #╰┈➤ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ꒰ self promo. ꒱ #╰┈➤ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ɪɴꜰɪɴɪᴛʏ ꒰ ooc. ꒱ #// reposting my old promo from my old blog :3c pls show some love i'm still so proud of it <3

[crazymuff1n]

theres something really sexy and romantic when the big strong and scary character gets on one knee and pledges their undying love and loyalty to their special human. like hell yeah i AM a queen and yes i accept your pledge of undying love and loyalty but let it be known that it is mutual

#post fresh from the muff1n bakery #monsterlover #terato #xeno #196 #reposting one of my biggest hits because my old blog deleted </3

[thursdaygrl]

open starter for f/nb muses plot: enemies to lovers smutty fun

“admit you like me, or i’m not touching you.” river had them up on the kitchen counter, wrists pinned against the cabinet as she stared down at them smugly, a little breathless but holding it together. the rest of the house was asleep which was probably why they’d gotten into this position in the first place, but they had no issue dragging it out.

#indie rp #indie lesbian rp #indie smut rp #opens. #reposting some starters from my old blog <3

[crazymuffin1]

#post fresh from the muffin bakery #splatoon #splatoon 3 #repost of old screenshot i took and posted on my other blog

[arcanaaa]

MASS WISHLIST PLOT POST:

Awhile back, probably several years ago, I wrote a wishlist for plots between Cana and other character’s within the FT series that I would love to have, mostly regarding development! In my previous post I rambled a lot, and I’m sure I didn’t make sense in a lot of what I’m trying to convey, so! This is a rewrite with some added plots, since the series officially ended. Like before they’re not in any particular order of importance, so feel free to take a look if you’re interested! Please keep in mind my characterization is my own interpretation, as well as slightly canon-divergent and headcanon based. With that being said, here are the characters I’d like to plot with!

Erza | Mira | Lisanna | Elfman | Levy | Gajeel | Juvia | Freed | Natsu | Gray | Loke | Lucy | Wendy | Laxus | Gildarts | Flare | Sting | Rogue | Minerva | Yukino | Jellal | Ultear | Meredy | Lyon | Sherry | Silver | Bluenote | Hisui | Brandish | Kagura | Zeref | *others to be added!

#wishlist tag #reposting this from my old blog on hereeeeeeeeee #c: lol sorry in advanced for my word vomit #because I've got so many ideas in my head and if I don't release these thoughts out I will die <3

[capricioussun]

Look at this old ass art I found

#it’s literally from the first few months after I got into UT lmao #I probably posted them on my old blog so this is probably technically a repost but. shh #remember when I used to be obsessed w/ sf papyrus haha what was that about #literally only one of you remembers that but if ur not them and ur reading these tags uh. now u know <3 #glad I got normal and no longer carry an unhealthy obsession over pointy skeletons w/ emotional issues =o) #(< obviously lying) #man I used to like. exclusively post traditional art. wild. #anyway -leafs- #snow and hail

[ms-scarletwings]

“We watched as Dr.M just stood there, unwilling to leave as the walls caved in on the vault.

He’d spent his life lusting over the Cooper Fortune, and he wasn’t going to give it up, no matter what the cost…”

#sly cooper #sly 3 #sly cooper cutscenes #sly 3 honor among thieves #sly cooper dr.m #dr.m #doctor m #sly cooper villains #vg quotes stuck in my head #repost from my old blog