#and slashy

[ikoarchived]

Slash and the basher wip

Blood warning on the wip!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Ik slash doesn't use a chainsaw, but since it's modeled after lollipop chainsaw and chainsaw weapons r dope, she gets a weapon switch.

.

A mask off and on version! Most of the scars I gave her are under her clothes, but I definitely gave her some facial ones. My super tragic story for her explains them but ima put that under the finished product

.

Escaped if you see this pls tell me if I did basher dirty or not I Lhms I couldn't handle doing him dirty/hj

.

.

.

Slashes outfit is basically a copy of this concept design for the pig from dbd because it eats so fucking HARDDD it's literally so fantastic, I'm not a DbD player because id suck ass at it, but the game is basically a gallery of monsters I can simp over 🤭

[sparkoflena]

Kon: Why are you staring at me so intently?

Tim, completely casually: I think I want to stab you with Kryptonite a few times. In different areas. For science.

Kon: ...why is my best friend considering torturing me?

Tim: I'm wondering if it takes you down so badly because it is truly that dangerous to you or if the invulnerablility of Kryptonians gives you a weak pain tolerance.

Kon: And you're asking me, a half human, instead of Clark or Kara?

Tim: They'd start telling Bruce about my "concerning villainous behavior" again.

Kon: And I won't?

Tim: I've kept fighting through pneumonia, a gunshot wound, and broken bones. And you go down when I poke you with a rock. Come on, you've got to be curious.

Kon: ...okay, I am a little curious.

Tim: YES! You won't regret this!

Kon: I will absolutely regret this.

[halothanic]

dumb yet irresistible sticker design a beautiful melange of these two legendary tshirts

[wyervan]

currently thinking about walking around with sun n moon wearing collars on their skinny lil necks 😵‍💫 scary dog privilege on another level

C-collar😳….

shazam! i change style on you again!

[munster0us]

It’s All in Your Head

[ozmosiis]

Ash Williams is insane because at literally ANY POINT he could’ve just said “not my problem” and dipped. But no. Dude got his hand possessed, chopped it off, strapped a chainsaw to the stump like those noodle and glue hacks from 2019, and said “groovy.” He got fucking launched back to 1300 AD, looked around at literal knights and castles, and decided he was still the most qualified person in the room. He’s not saving the world out of duty or destiny. No, he’s doing it because he’s too stubborn to let some crusty ass book and a few thousand zombies destroy the shelves he just stocked. Like my guy, you are not the divine chosen one. You are a stockboy with a grudge and a boomstick, and I respect the hell out of that.

[lorenzonuti]

Cabin Dream.

Twitter (X) | Instagram | Artstation

[tone-chan]

Tevis ain't playin', Cayde, pay up.

[twoflowers]

Sentimentality - Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: The newest addition to the Straw Hat crew grapples with their easy affection, and especially with the attention from their doting cook.

Tags: SFW, character study, slight slash, scientist reader, no use of Y/N, female reader. First impressions, nakamaship.

Word count: 1397

Special thanks to @mere-mortifer for the encouragement to post my Sanji fics. I love your Sanji very much.

This one isn't very slash-y and honestly feels a bit incomplete to me, but I'm obsessed with this man in a psychological way and need to post at least something, even if it captures only an ounce of my insanity about him and the crew.

Also: thinking about making this into more of a series (as the reader is kind of based on an OC of mine...!). Please, please, Sanji fans: give me any and every prompt you can imagine.

__

Sentimentality

Every morning you settle into the golden-glowing comfort of the breakfast table: the press of arms against arms, the jostling of bodies to the time of the waves, the hard wooden bench softened despite it all. 

The captain is not at all what you expected. He’s a kid, and a downright grabby one at that. You have to slap his rubbery hands away from your plate at every meal, and if you don’t catch him, Nami always does.

You sit next to Chopper, whose tiny, furry body is so very warm. He likes to plan the day over breakfast, still thrilled to have another scientist on board. You watch him nibble at pancakes with his blocky teeth (it really is hard not to coo over him, but he has his dignity to uphold, so you restrain yourself!) and sip his milk and grin, white mustache and all. Robin leans over with a napkin to clean Chopper’s mouth, and he fusses, but concedes. Some of his drawings hang on the fridge, secured by magnets. You think of siblings with a pang in your chest every time you see them.

Roronoa Zoro is inexplicably softer than you imagined. There’s something about the curve of his cheeks, the careless sprawling stance, the way his nose whistles lightly while he sleeps. He barks laughter at Luffy, leans on his swords like they’re children, even smells better than Nami likes to say.

Robin terrified you at first, but you quickly became a sucker for her mellow gaze and old book smell. Besides, educated women are always of interest to you. Nami and Robin are incredible, always encouraging: proof that somehow, someway, a woman who has been chased out of her old life and hunted by the darkest parts of herself can uncurl and be seen. 

The first few sleepless nights aboard the Going Merry, you stared at the ceiling, heart pounding at the vulnerability of sharing a room. You are a scientist. You’ve long denounced the need for sentimentality, though Luffy manages to wring a few spare drops out of you every day. How could you have accounted for the love that permeates every board of this ship? How have you gone your entire life wondering if belonging like this could exist, only to find it among a notorious pirate crew- a crew who, really, is more bumbling than you could have imagined? How can Luffy stroll into any place- town, restaurant, heart- and break down every wall without a second thought?

And the cook… 

You have to look away from him sometimes. The first time he made a meal for you, he sank to a kneel to present it, like he was a servant and you were a queen who could take his head at any moment, and have it willingly. You took the plate with shaking hands and nodded a thank you. When he stood back up, there was a bit of dust on the knee of his fine-pressed pants. You kept your eyes on it as he fluttered around, crooning to the women and brusquely serving the men. What were you supposed to make of that?

Sanji squeezes your heart like it’s an old rag. The way he remembers your favored flavor profiles makes your toes curl. You’re not even sure you’ve managed to smile at him yet, even a month after joining the crew, because he throws you so off-balance you’re left feeling like you’ve been thrust into a hurricane without any solid structure to grip onto.

His… whatever it is- admiration, loyalty, devotion, all of the above and more- has only gotten stronger in the past month. He floats into the lab as if on a cloud to tell you he made you a snack and left it outside, mindful of the potential for contamination. He tells you how lovely your eyes look that day, and every day- that you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and that he lives to serve you.

“A snack for you is outside, miss,” he says today, like he’s itching to bow. “I prepared carrot cake and spiced milk for you, with turmeric, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Let me know if anything is not to your liking.”

You side-eye him from your bench, pipette paused in midair. Miss, miss, miss. Every time he says it you’re left breathless. As usual, you nod and mutter a thank you, still focusing on your work, lest you do something stupid like offering him your hand to kiss or backing him into a wall to taste his neck.

He usually leaves right away, but you don’t hear the door close today. When you look back at Sanji, he’s beaming, eyes practically heart-shaped. 

“May I make anything else for you?”

“No. That will suffice.” Something in your chest is shouting at you for being so formal with him. 

“I like carrot cake,” you add.

Sanji’s smile turns tremulous and melty. A hand moves to cover his heart. “I will keep that in mind. And I don’t wish to disturb you- your work is very important- but it will be best eaten soon, while it’s still warm.”

You surprise yourself by setting down your pipette and moving to the sink to wash your hands. Sanji is still lingering at the door as you scrub between your fingers and under your nails, similar to the way he washes his after handling raw meat. You take extra time drying off, the feeling of him behind you prickling at your neck. 

In the hallway, the cake and milk are placed carefully on a table. The mug is to the top right of the plate, handle tilted at the perfect angle for you to grab. A dainty dessert fork leans against the plate, next to two sprigs of mint forming a heart.

“I almost don’t want to eat it,” you say. “It looks perfect.”

“I can make you as many as you’d like, all with love. Please. It’s my pleasure.”

You lift the fork, and Sanji leans forward with the eagerness of a child witnessing a magic trick. When you take a bite of the cake, his visible eye widens.

“It’s delicious. Thank you, Sanji.”

Sanji lets out a shaky breath. “Of course, miss. I can make you anything your heart desires, provided I have the ingredients. And if I don’t, I will make sure to procure them as soon as we make landfall. And if you want them before that, I'll swim to shore.” 

Why does the man have such puppy-dog eyes? You know with certainty that he would do anything you asked of him, or else die trying, and you’ve hardly spoken to him. There’s a string of tension in his body when he’s around you, loosened slightly now that you’ve complimented his food. Is he just that eager to please?

You have met many men happy to go through the motions of wooing you for one reason alone, but something about Sanji tells you that he would be at your beck and call for the rest of your life, even if you never said “thank you” again.

You nod, moving to try the spiced milk, which is, of course, perfect. 

“I noticed that you like cinnamon, so I tweaked the recipe to add more.” He sounds hopeful. “You don’t find the turmeric overpowering?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, lowering the drink. “It’s good. You’re very… perceptive.”

“Of course! I pay special attention to my lovely ladies.”

You’re included in this group, somehow. Why does that make you want to push and prod at him, despite the measured indifference you’ve culminated?

“Sanji,” you say, and he snaps to attention.

“Yes?”

“Could I have some marmalade with this?”

This is the first time you’ve requested anything from him. A broad smile spreads across his face. 

“Right away.” He falls into a bow before walking down the hallway. When he’s out of view, you hear him begin to run, legs pounding the wooden floor strong enough to rattle the pictures frames on the walls. 

You pluck a sprig of mint from the cake, grinding it between your teeth. It’s refreshing, new, with a bit of a kick. You smile to yourself, imagining Sanji in the kitchen, carefully scooping marmalade into a dainty dish, heart thrumming with the thrill of receiving an order from his newest object of affection.

[myslashyvalentine]

My Slashy Valentine 2025: Sign-ups Open!

From the Years of the Trees to the Fourth Age, from sultry tales of the Silmarillion to romances in the Ring Wars … sound familiar? That’s right, Slashy Swaps are back and it’s once again time to make your Tolkien fanfic dreams come true.

My Slashy Valentine is a hand matched slash fiction exchange focused on the people of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle-earth. Sign ups are now OPEN so spread the word, recruit your friends and fellow authors, and get ready for MSV 2025.

Sign-up Period: December 6th to December 20th Assignments distributed: by December 28th Deadline for first time participants: January 31st, 2025 Deadline for veteran participants: February 7th, 2025 Archive opens: February 14th, 2025

Take a look through our rules and FAQ – or on AO3 if you’re on the mobile app, because Tumblr – and then come along to our SIGN UP PAGE and share the adventure.

[sirswagsalot1]

Where are the evil dead/Ash Williams tumblr fans? Why are there like 5 of you.

[halothanic]

firmly believe this is the cutest ash i have ever drawn.. another addition to the sticker pack, he'll have a glitter border, bringing to mind that glimmering morning light

[notaplaceofhonour]

imagine being an employee at S-Mart, and your coworker that everyone is like 87% certain went insane & killed a bunch of his friends & gf, is just chilling, talking up customers with wild stories about saving a fantasy kingdom from the undead. it’s a little annoying that he’s slacking off while you have to pick up the slack, but you’ve learned with this guy it’s more trouble than it’s worth to complain.

he tells the same story to every single girl that comes in, and every single time he acts like it’s something the girl he’s talking to should actually be impressed by—as if it’s something that actually happened. and you can’t tell if he’s joking around and just committing to the bit really hard as some weird form of flirting, or if he really is crazy enough to believe every word of what he’s saying. but bizarrely it’s working for him? she seems into it somehow?

and you’re not sure what to think. should you be worried for this girl? he can be incredibly charming, but he’s just a complete & total weirdo (and sometimes he really creeps you out).

like you remember this one time he literally told you he hacked up his girlfriend—an actual missing person that he is THE top suspect in the disappearance of—with a chainsaw attached to his hand. but he said it like he’s some kind of pulp fiction action hero, and (again) you can’t tell if he’s joking? (who would joke about something like that? who would just casually admit to that if they actually did it?) it’s so bizarre you tell yourself you have to have imagined it.

but there’s other stuff too. he refuses to wear just a normal prosthetic hand to work—he has like a whole medieval ass gauntlet for a hand?? clearly he’s read way too many comic books, and has a really demented sense of humor, but you’ve worked with this guy enough to know he’s a total incompetent loser. there’s no way he’s actually dangerous, right? he’s just a bit weird, that’s all…

and as you’re trying to figure all this out there’s this lady on bath salts that comes out of nowhere and she’s jumping around the place like she’s yoda, growling and yelling about how she’s going to swallow people’s souls and attacking people?? and to make matters worse your crazy ass coworker breaks a gun out of the display case and starts jumping on carts shooting at her??? and then the next day you come into work and have to just check people out at the register with this guy like nothing happened???????

[wyervan]

In the least creepy way possible, what do smoon smell like? What kind of cologne do they wear, detergent they use. Maybe even their favorite scents?

Mucho amor ❤️❤️

*Morgan Freeman voice* I can smell you

I don’t think either are really the type to wear cologne regularly. Sun might pick up something he likes the smell of in the fragrance department at the mall, but then talk himself out of actually buying it because it’s “silly” and he’s a bit of a penny pincher.

So they probably both smell mostly like their shared bottle of 3-in-1. Irish Spring is the usual culprit. Their deodorants are similarly common drug store flavors. Eucalyptus or citrus for Sun, cedarwood or pine for Moon.

underneath it all, an unmistakable sharp metallic smell

Sunny loves the scent of coffee and freshly washed sheets. He finds the orange or lemon of cleaning products soothing (and he often smells of them himself). He’s prone to headaches when someone’s wearing too strong of a perfume around him, but he likes subtle floral or herbal scents like lavender or rosemary. Sometime he’ll light a candle while unwinding before bed. The smell of cotton candy and dust remind him of his circus days.

Moon has a sharp nose. He might be able to tell where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing or who you’ve been doing it with just from a couple of whiffs. He’s extremely averse to strong artificial sweet scents. Prefers musky, spicy, and earthier smells. Patchouli, fir, incense. Wet earth, decaying leaves, the static coming off a CRT screen. Cigarette smoke makes him nostalgic. He doesn’t hate the smell of weed either, but it’s probably mostly positive association.

[cometecti]

Still probably my favorite cosmetic for Dwight even if I don't own it

[foxlecter]

I love patch pants so much. I wear them at least twice a week XD