#bundle of shit

[dizstermania]

HI TUMBLR NU METAL FANODM HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN A WHILE.

fieldy's dreams is so ass but so not at the same time ew ew get him AWAY

[littlefankingdom]

This man (Bruce) is so abnormal about parenthood and so intense about his love for Dick. "He's not my son, he's more than that" Son is not a strong enough word for what Dick is to him. And the last panel being Oliver with Roy, which is later, implying that Oliver finally understood wtf was Bruce talking about when he got Roy, being like "wtf does his weird bs make sense?!?"

But also, a part of it may come from how Dick wasn't comfortable with becoming Bruce's son, so Bruce got used to immediately correcting people when they called him his father or Dick his son because he doesn't want Dick to overhear it and be hurt (a lot of people in the fandom seems to forget that it was Dick who did not want to be adopted and who was against Bruce being his father. Of course, that changed with time, but Bruce respecting that is great and not "bad parenting". A foster parent should never force a kid to accept them as their father/mother)

[the-woman-upstairs]

Can’t believe all it took for me to care about the MCU again was Yelena getting a super-powered boy toy with crippling depression

[liketheletter-l]

it feels fitting that @somerandomdudelmao's most recent update inspired me to draw my First Successful Mikey Ever

srry i havent posted in a while i've been Really busy but hopefully will have more time to draw/write soon >:]

[skatiet]

[multiheadcanons]

ITS BEEN ABOUT TWO STRAIGHT WEEKS OF EIGHTY DEGREE WEATHER. SPRING IS OVER. MERCS IN THE HEAT

scout: scout is not a summer guy until he remembers how his legs look in shorts and how the ladies look at his legs in shorts. the guys too, hell, he knows he’s sexy. depending on the severity of the heat he may shelve his morning runs. if he’s getting up at his regular time and the sun is already up he’s not going for a run. and he’s not the biggest fan of having to fight in the heat. he gets very irritable. especially if it’s a bad day. and he’s not particularly happy on a good day in the heat either. doesn’t help that he burns, but when it peels he’s got a nice little tan going. never remembers to put on sunscreen, so really he just gets more freckles.

soldier: soldier doesn’t mind the heat until it hits the mid nineties. then he starts stripping. the team has been forced to know that, come the hotter seasons, soldier choosing to fight in his skivvies is a gift, because he would most certainly rather be nude. the only issue is rocket jumping hurts his feet when he does it bare. and he wouldn’t call it a crutch, but it is one of his, if not his absolute favorite method of transport. and he sweats a lot already in the amount of energy war calls for, so the sweat isn’t actually doing anything anymore than getting in his eyes. he starts making mud pits if it’s really insufferable.

pyro: pyro doesn’t give a shit about the heat. pyro loves the heat, in fact. it is one of the few times you might actually be able to catch pyro with their mask off. they like to sunbathe! the sun feels good on their skin. soft, and warm, and beautiful, the sun might be their favorite thing in the world. their biggest crush. and the team gives pyro their needed time with their celestial lover. pyro doesn’t ask for much, so they give them the day. at least one of the many hot, humid days for them to galavant outside with their astronomical girlfriend, unimpeded.

demoman: demo doesn’t mind the heat. he certainly doesn’t want to be in it, if it’s bad enough, but being in it won’t kill him. he will opt for fighting indoors, and the bombs are momentarily shelved until the cooler weather. he can at least do his part to not make the battlefield any more treacherous than it will already be. and he’ll never admit when he’s starting to overheat. he just quits fighting. throws his weapons down and quits for the day. the higher ups will have to move to nighttime fighting if they want demo on the field. if he has the option, he will simply stay inside if the weather is unbearable, and he finds the cold easier to contend with. he’s not as willing to strip as soldier is.

heavy: heavy could not shed enough layers if he peeled his own skin off. heavy calls it a day the second the temperatures creep above eighty. he does not fare well in the heat, and it’s been an uphill battle to get used to it. there are still days on the battlefield in the triple digit weather where he has no idea what is going on in his body, he just knows he’s boiling alive. and the doctor can maybe get one uber out of him before he drops dead from heat stroke. and when he returns, he rarely gets further than where his last corpse dematerializes before he drops from heat stroke again. it is an experience he would call disorienting and, at its worst, frightening. if heavy can beat spy to it, heavy will also take more solo missions to colder climates during the hottest months. cusses a lot in the heat. and pants like a dog. he just can’t help it. he overheats so quickly. he ducks into buildings and plants himself there, but if it’s humid he really can’t escape it except in the respawn room.

engineer: this is one of the few times he gets a genuine laugh in on some of his other teammates. dell is from texas. where you step outside in april and you are immediately hit with so much water in the air you are choking, while the sun bakes you, your dog, your vehicle’s interior and exterior, and the asphalt road before 10AM. this man is intimately aware of what heat stroke looks like. and he tries to warn the team before they exhaust themselves that far. sometimes they shrug him off, high off adrenaline in battle, and he’ll watch them run off… and drop in about thirty feet. he goes to meet them at respawn so he can laugh at them. dumbasses. he tries to warn them!

medic: there’s not enough sunscreen in the world for this poor man. and he gets so sunburnt. it’s almost pathetic. he’s tomato red, if not blistered, and he’s in pain, and he’s utterly miserable. he tries to stay covered as much as possible. masks, hats, hell, a parasol, anything to keep his skin out of the unforgiving sun, but it’s so hot that he can’t breathe under the layers, and he also starts stripping. he won’t get naked, but the coat, vest and shirt are coming off. major bitcher. complains so much of the heat that the team wishes he would take the day off. pyro gets his back with aloe

sniper: sniper is built for the heat, of which i will sum up with he’s australian, raised in the outback. the man is no stranger to an unforgiving sun. so the heat doesn’t impede him like it does his other teammates. the humidity will shock him however, if it’s bad enough. there comes a point where the moisture in the air makes him feel like he’s swimming. and he will normally grit his teeth and continue to move. but there will come a point where he parks himself in the shade and doesn’t move from there until battle is over, and he can go inside. on real hot days, he will partake in soldier’s mud pit. the enemy team absolutely detests this. he goes from an already difficult target to pinpoint to damn near invisible. they’re just free kills and he’s taking his time.

spy: spy could get a good tan in if he didn’t wear that stupid fucking balaclava, so nobody feels bad when he looks stupid. spy simply does not like the heat. doesn’t care to be in excessive heats, or humidity, and sometimes he’s shit out of luck. and at that point, he may elect to just not fight. most of the team will be happy to spend a hot day doing other things. he’ll see if there’s a solo contract somewhere colder. spy doesn’t have sweat glands, so he cannot physically be outside in excessive heat for long periods of time. he has and will again suffer heat stroke. it’s not comfortable, and respawning doesn’t make it better. though sometimes it’s unavoidable. heeds engineers warnings the most on hot days.

[fishymom-art]

Hello 👋 New follower on board, I love ur fix a beast au🥹 and I just wanna ask what is the relationship between dark choco and cloud haetae cookie now in this au

(I love ur art and au,I hope u make more. have a good night/day/afternoon)

They’re like siblings!

[humming-fly]

some random greedling doodles from this evening comprised of drawing an eyeroll and then drawing it again but Snarkier

[dizstermania]

posting these things because i'm in shitty art block

[veronavillequiltingbee]

Anyway, popping out of retirement to say that I will try to update MM Lighting Mod and Cinema Secrets to the Legacy Collection folder structure.

Give me some time (unless someone beats me to it)

[ninawolv3rina]

EXCELLENT NEWS!

Both of my fantasy books, The Unwanted Prophet and The Forgotten Lyric, are now available on Itchio! If you're craving a dark fantasy series steeped in religious trauma and character drama - now you can get some, and you don't have to support Amazon to do it.

Unwanted Prophet

Forgotten Lyric

[charmac]

How many more seasons? "Possibly in perpetuity, throughout the universe"

What if I cried.

[weirdghostcat]

Pride month be like:

[nevertheless-moving]

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE DEMON OF YUNMENG

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Ten

Holy FUCK my pants are disgusting. 

It was an unpleasant thought to wake up to. But it was an even more unpleasant sensation.

Setting that aside for the time being, Wei Wuxian forced himself to his hands and knees, arching outward and inward to crack his back into something resembling normal shape. A vision assaulted him — Lan Zhan returning to the tent and catching him in this position. He had to stuff a fist into his mouth to hold back laughter at the following mental image of Hunguang-Jun mounting a clothed man and humping him like a beast until completion. 

Holy shit, he actually would, wouldn’t he? He would for sure be into that.

Wei Wuxian shook his head, refocusing. After a few more stretches, he began the painstaking process of peeling off his pants, wincing where it pulled at sensitive skin and hair. He did his best to scrape himself clean, but fucking hell he needed to bathe. Somewhere that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be tempted to look at his dick and inadvertently learn a secret that would require the Demon of Yunmeng to murder the Lightbearing Lord, something said demon really, really didn’t want to do. 

Ha! Even if I go off on his own, can I trust that Lan Zhan won’t follow to sneak a peek? 

The Honored Second Jade of Lan. Unable to resist peeping. He bit back another round of hysterical giggles. 

He hesitated getting dressed; Lan Zhan's pants looked like a decent enough fit — any minor extra length wouldn’t matter once he had boots on. But dried come was literally flaking off him. Not to mention the sweat. Reluctantly, he searched for one of his soiled pants from last night — just something to get him to the nearest stream. To his confusion, he couldn’t find any of his dirty clothing, just the clean Quinquin pouch. 

Annoyed, he pulled on his second to last clean pants and underrobe — way too nice for his current state and location.

“Oi, Lan Zhan!” he said, clamoring out of the tent. “Did you steal my underwear?”

Lan Wangji was pointedly silent.

It took him a moment longer than it should have to realize that the silence was actually not pointed; Lan Zhan simply wasn’t there.

He looked around more thoroughly, discovering that not only was Lan Zhan gone, but also his tent was missing, so that was a little disturbing. But he figured that Lan Zhan must have stolen it alongside his clothing for some currently inscrutable reason.

There was a bowl with a plate over it, resting on a suspiciously flat tree stump which he was fairly sure hadn’t been there yesterday. Lifting the plate revealed a steaming portion of brilliant red congee, along with what looked like two pheasant’s eggs poached on top. 

“What the fuck,” Wei Wuxian said outloud. Again, no one answered, but he did notice a note tucked into a crack in the wood, which he pulled out eagerly.

“River two Li Northeast.”

Wei Wuxian sank to the ground, resting on his heels and pressing the note to his forehead. He tried to imagine Lan Zhan’s line of thought. Did he consider writing something like “I made breakfast,” before discarding it as a waste of words? Or did communicating so frivolously sincerely never even cross his mind? Obviously, Lan Zhan had made spicy congee. And hunted down an egg and delicately cooked it. Who else would have done such a thing?

Quickly, he checked to make sure he hadn’t woken in an elaborate illusory trap.

Nope. 

Lifting the bowl revealed a warming talisman, which he had expected — what he hadn’t expected was for it to be one of his designs. Jiang Cheng had complained that his book of slightly more academic than practical talisman adjustments had barely sold enough copies to be worth the hassle of distribution, but he had also complained about him publishing too much on gui, so. 

He supposed he knew that Gusu Lan had always diligently purchased copies of his cultivation treatises, if only to decry them as heresy from an informed high horse before ritually burning them or whatever they did with such things. He hadn’t thought that Lan Zhan was particularly interested in talismanic arts, but he was a distinguished young master with a properly well rounded education.

Still, it was a little flattering. Really, the spellwork was objectively not worth the time it took to draw, but the food maintained significantly better texture than “standard” warming charms. 

Lacking any better plans, Wei Wuxian ate breakfast. It was pretty good. Not quite spicy enough, but very close. 

Since Lan Zhan hadn’t returned by the time he finished, he made his way to the river, opting to leave everything in the tent as it was because if the river had another under-informative note beside it he was going the fuck back to sleep.

When he finally found Lan Zhan, the man was meditating by the water’s edge, which was normal enough. What was strange was the washboard beside him and the  fabric strung delicately from lines that Lan Zhan must have been carrying around with him. 

No, wait, the lengths of cord aren’t strange — who the fuck carries a washboard around? Aren’t Lan robes spelled to look like that?

“You didn’t actually have to clean my underwear,” Wei Wuxian said, approaching.

“Taking responsibility,” Lan Zhan said, opening his eyes.

Wei Wuxian snorted. “If you say so.”

Lan Wangji rose, frowning at Wei Wuxian’s legs. “Will fetch this morning’s clothing.”

“Lan Zhan you don’t have to —” But he was already moving. Wei Wuxian just barely managed to grab his arm as he passed. “Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji stopped, looking at him. This close, the small height difference between them was a bit more noticeable, if only because Wei Wuxain was fairly unused to tilting his head back to talk with anybody.

“Ah —” he said, briefly distracted, before marshaling his exasperation. “If this is because of, you know, the stuff we did — you really don’t have to. Very willing participant and all that.”

Lan Zhan nodded solemnly.

“Washing my clothes isn’t actually your responsibility. That was a joke.”

“Mn.” 

Wei Wuxian let go, and Lan Zhan continued the way he was walking.

“I —” Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Zhan again, opened his mouth, then gave up; his dick was too itchy for this conversation. Maybe he likes cleaning? And… stealing bird’s eggs? “Fine, whatever, I’m going to go wash, I've got come practically glueing my legs together — you’re, uh, staying in this section of river, right?”

“Mn.”

He hesitated, but felt the need to ask again. “...You’re sure? No wandering up or downstream from here?”

Lan Wangji lowered his head.

“I mean if you say you won’t, I believe you, of course, just…” he trailed off weakly. 

“Will not dishonor Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji swore, looking up with golden eyes that were WAY too intense considering the frivolity of the subject matter. Unfortunately, that actually was the level of intensity he needed Lan Zhan to bring to the table on this particular promise.

“Right.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat. Lan Zhan’s face was very close.

Very close.

//

 “I really need to bathe,” Wei Wuxian insisted hoarsely, pulling back from Lan Zhan’s mouth.

Lan Zhan’s throat bobbed as he nodded. His fingers released all at once from Wei Wuxian’s ass, then he disappeared back towards camp in a swirl of white.

Wei Wuxian pressed a hand to his face, allowing himself twenty seconds to just stand there breathing heavily before pushing his way downstream. 

Alright, Lan Zhan has to be the one who’s unusual here, not me, he thought mournfully. He came twice last night and once this morning, same as me! How is he hard again? I mean, I’m not not impressed but seriously! Chafing!

Mind gradually warming up to the day, he resolved not to spend overlong mulling over the cutsleeve stuff between him and Lan Zhan. Based on how the last few days had gone, there were even odds everything would dramatically change between them again by tomorrow morning. In any case, he had bigger things to worry about  — namely the trial that had started all this.

Even with an increasingly credible and scandalously appealing alternate story, there were a hundred different ways it still might come to a fight. And he wouldn’t ask Jiang Cheng to spend sect lives and honor defending him.

It was entirely possible that they were approaching the point where Jin sect would give up on subtlety in their quest to seize the Yin Tiger Tally; they might already be there, if it turned out this whole “conference” was just a trap to lure him into prepared killing grounds.

Unless he chose to run and leave behind this mess entirely — something he couldn’t quite bring himself to do while there was still a slim chance of returning home — he was walking into that tower. Into terrain that the Jin would have ample time to prepare against him.

He whistled idly — a few lost spirits perked up in the distance, but nothing strong enough to be worth the effort of hunting down and trapping. What he really needed was a proper unsanctified mass grave, or a powerful ghoul. 

Ooh, maybe if I finish that tracking tool? Where was I with that? Oh yeah, multiple sensitivities… okay, if i give up on distinguishing between types of resentful energy and just amplify power…

By the time he made it back to camp, he was so lost in his thoughts that he barely greeted Lan Zhan, opting instead to immediately spread out paper on the conveniently flat stump, frantically trying to get his thoughts down before he lost their pattern. He definitely meant to say something to him at some point, but then he had an idea for amplification riding off the connection between iron and dragon lines…

It wasn’t until he finished charming a shaved iron needle floating in a cup of tea that he realized he had no idea where the tea had come from.

Blinking, he looked around. Another crude yet level table had appeared to his right, already covered with paper. Damn, Did I miss Lan Zhan chopping down a tree? Again? He looked around. More tables. Ok, not all stumps — I missed Lan Zhan chopping up a tree. Maybe two. And also carrying the pieces around.

What the actual fuck, he thought, flummoxed. 

Sure, he had gotten into this sort of flow before, but to where he completely ignored his surroundings? Only behind a dozen layers of wards — an actual mo could have walked right up to him and cut his head off for all the attention he had been paying.

He stood, popping his fingers and cracking his back. Lan Zhan wasn’t far, seated on the ground a short walk away. He was doing something with his hands. Grinding ink. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t remember pausing to grind ink. Despite having clearly been writing for hours. And his fingers weren’t peeled open. So he obviously hadn’t absentmindedly started using blood.

His heart did something funny. 

Lan Zhan looked up.

“...I’m finished,” Wei Wuxian said, not sure where to begin with the tea and the tables and the ink  and the pants and the egg. “At least for now. I’ll need to pick up some decent copper for a casing. I guess I could use wood, but it wouldn’t maintain… anyway.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan put down the inkstone. His fingers were stained black. Wei Wuxian looked down — his own hands were a lot worse, though the black of his robe did a lot to hide mess beyond that.

If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other, he thought.

“If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other,” he said.

The whites of Lan Wangji’s eyes ran red even as gold was edged out by black. 

“Wait, you can hold me up with no effort?” Wei Wuxian asked a minute or so later, heels wrapped around Lan Zhan’s back, Lan Zhan’s hands forming a seat with no apparent strain, and apparently enough extra energy to do a fair amount of pinching. 

“Mn,” Lan Wangji confirmed, switching to one hand to show off, which incidentally settled more of Wei Wuxian’s weight onto a few spread out points across his ass.

“Ngh,” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan used his now free hand to work at a somewhat tangled red hair ribbon. “Wait, I had a point — so tha — aa — at means you didn’t even nEED to pin me against things! You just did it because you wanted to!” 

“Frees my hands,” Lan Zhan argued reasonably.

“Yeah but think about it —” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan walked them towards the tent. “You didn’t even have to wait until I was up in that tree to tackle me, back at the hunt! You could have just grabbed me and held me up in the air like this.”

Lan Zhan froze. “Shameless!” he hissed through clenched teeth. Down below his cock jumped, nudging at Wei Wuxian’s ass somewhat left of center.

Wei Wuxian cackled. “Oh man! Does that always happen when you call me shameless?! If I had sat in your lap back when I was studying at cloud recesses would we have figured this out a lot sooner?”

Lan Zhan finished pulling the ribbon free, and Wei Wuxian felt his hair fall down on his shoulders.

“Not…always.” 

Wei Wuxian cackled some more.

Did Lan Zhan’s eyes soften? Wait, was that an honest, intentional joke?

“I knew you were funny,” Wei Wuxian crowed, delighted.

//

Yunmeng Zhi Mo sat leaning against a tree, watching with amusement as Hunguang-Jun methodically worked mostly white pants along a washboard. 

“You know you really don’t have to do that.”

“Mn.”

“I mean we’re even on orgasms, aren’t we? I feel like things are pretty fair, as far as that’s concerned.”

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan, I’m serious,” he said, exasperated. “Grinding my ink — cleaning my clothing— you’ve been acting super weird since we started, you know. Why are you doing all this stuff for me?”

Lan Zhan dunked the cloth in the water. “Want to,” he finally said, not turning around. The back of his ears were pink.

Wei Wuxian sighed heavily, rolling his eyes.

I guess this is what happens when someone that repressed gets to start having orgasms, he thought ruefully. He’ll get over it once the novelty wears off. Probably. 

“Oh!” he said, snapping his fingers. “Did you pack my tent?”

“Mn.”

“Why?”

“...Wanted to be ready to travel.”

“Okay…” he said slowly, eyeing the clothing on the line.

“Dried it first,” Lan Zhan added, misreading the look.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Dried? What, you actually wasted spiritual energy on that?”

“Not waste. Prevents mold.”

“I —” Wei Wuxian laughed. “Alright, thanks I guess?”

“No need.”

“But you strung up clotheslines for our pants, because…”

“More delicate fabric.”

“Right, sure, but why — you know, whatever, it doesn't matter. How do you feel about detouring a bit towards Chang'an? One of the trade towns that direction should have some decent metals.”

“...Not the way to Carp Tower.”

“How long would it take you to fly us to Lanling, if you went fast? At most it would be a few hours from here, right?”

“Mn.”

“So why bother rushing! Worse comes to worse, we can leave the night before. I don’t want to stay in that snakepit any longer than I have to, and I strongly suspect the feeling is mutual."

Wei Wuxian paused, grimacing at the idea of actually showing up early for this thing.

"I’m not saying we shouldn’t generally move that direction," he added quickly. "To be on the safe side, and its probably not a great idea for us to be spotted flying all over the place together — I think the element of surprise will work best to avoid giving the Jin too much time to prepare —  but, anyway, my point is — wouldn’t you rather spend the next couple weeks enjoying ourselves while we prepare for the shitshow?”

Lan Zhan glanced back, eyes raking up and down Wei Wuxian’s body.

“...Mn.”

Prev (Chapter Ten) MDZS AU Masterlist Next (Chapter 12)

[yyink]

maze runner tweets cause I cooked🙏

tbh this is because im not ready for school tomorrow

ALBY APPRECIATION CAUSE HES NEVER IN THESE 🗣️🔥 (hes barely here either…)

Also I declare September 19th Albys birthday idc what the canon says 🙏 also if Newt is the Glades mother, Alby is the strict Father that absolutely no one goes too unless they absolutely need to (other than Minho)

I’ll probably never post like this again but hey

[complimentaryculler]

my froggie army begins... I've got to clean them up a bit and then paint, but ive got a lovely bushel of berries- cranberries, blackberries, blueberries (waiting on her sister), raspberries, and blackcurrants!

the .stl are for sale at https://sorrelssouls.com/collections/stls ! She's an amazing artist, with fully printed and painted versions too and a lot of other kinds of frogs and bats and little mushroom guys!