May all of you find jobs and careers to support yourselves, your families, your pets, and may you never spend a single night dreading going to work the next day. May your jobs be fulfilling, safe, rewarding, prosperous, and healthy for you and your goals.
I’m finally able to post my comic for @monsteranthology
! It’s from 2014 and I haven’t looked at it for awhile so I see a lot
of mistakes @w@ It contains some nsfw so make sure you’re in a safe
place before clicking in and reading!
One AM in a deserted, neon-lit laundromat called Laundropalooza is not exactly when and where Peter thought he’d run face-first into Wade Wilson again, but it is.
–
“I think I’m growing on you,” Wade says. “Like a mold. Or a lichen.”
Peter has a lot of mold in his bathroom. “I don’t think that’s always necessarily a good thing.” But he can’t deny that Wade is right. Peter is absolutely screwed: Deadpool has grown on him, an awful lot. But he’s not about to tell Wade that.
“Sometimes it is,” Wade says. “Like with blue cheese. Or penicillin.”
“I’m allergic to penicillin.” Or at least he was. Peter probably isn’t allergic to anything, anymore.
This bad idea looks a hell of a lot like a rocky cliff from where Peter’s standing, the whole thing just waiting to collapse. But Peter’s still climbing it, eagerly grabbing fistfull after fistfull of crumbling rock, hoping it doesn’t collapse under the weight of his own stupidity. He literally cannot seem to stop himself where Deadpool is concerned.
When the Goldstein sisters take Credence as their date to MACUSA’s annual Halloween ball, he meets a man in a mask. What happens after that? Well, it’s like something out of a motion picture.
In lieu of the new tumblr settings, can I make yet another plea with those of you who read fics and consume art on tumblr to please reblog them?
Fics and art will die on a creator’s dash if they aren’t reblogged. It’s never been more true than now.
If you want to keep receiving content from creators, reblog the the content. If it’s something you enjoyed? Reblog it. It’s not hard. I am going to make a point to reblog everything I read from now on. (With the proper tags of course), as well as all the art that I see on my dash.
I cannot make it simpler. Posts WILL die unless they’re reblogged. No one will see your ‘like’. Your like is a bookmark for YOU to find it later. Your reblog means the world to a creator because it means you are willing to go the little extra distance and recommend this to your followers.
Don’t let creations die on the dash of those who created them.
Reblog to save a creation.
Reblog to keep a creator creating.
Reblog, please.
Ironically, Tumblr ate my last attempt at this post, so I’ll keep it sweet:
1. It makes content creators’ day when you interact with us, especially reblog.
2. Comments and tag blathering are really, really special to me, and I look at allllll my reblogs just in case someone said something interesting in the tags.
3. It works. @dresupi reblogged something of mine and I immediately got more notes.
Wade’s brain was doing the boogie-woogie again, which was hardly a surprise considering he was piloting a fucking Jaeger without a partner. His nose was bleeding by the time he returned to base, and the veins in his eyeballs had swollen, popping a few of the subconjunctival capillaries and giving his vision a reddish haze.
And that wasn’t all. Dizziness gripped him in wracking waves, sending bile climbing up his throat. Wade’s guts churned and his mind fizzed like a bottle of cola, but hey, at least he’d killed Thanatos, the infamous Kaiju whose entire head was made of teeth. Yard-long teeth. Now that was a creature in need of an emergency dental job.
Except that it was dead, so… less dental job, more dissection. Stark would have a field day with the remains.
“Wilson,” said Marshal May Parker. She was waiting for him on the landing bay, stern and in uniform. “You’re still alive.”
“Eh, I’m already healing. I’ll be okay. After all, I’m the only freak around here who survived a Kaiju’s poison. And that was worse. Way worse.”
Marshal Parker fell into step beside him as Wade headed to the medbay, as was routine after a skirmish. “Dr. Stark argues that your body metabolized the poison and converted it into a healing serum. I hope he hasn’t been pestering you overmuch for tissue samples.”
“Tissue samples are sorta meh. Fluid samples, though? Those can be fun. I offered to jack off for the sample if Stark had a nudie magazine lying around.”
The marshal huffed out a startled laugh, her diminutive frame somehow managing to exude both authority and amusement. “Did he?”
“’Course he did. He’s Stark.”
“Well, let’s all hope he’s making progress with simulating your metabolization of the poison. If we can figure out how to replicate that process on a cellular level, all the Jaeger pilots will be able to heal themselves.”
“Aw, I’m gonna miss being the resident freak.”
Marshal Parker frowned. “It’s a pity you’ve been ostracized by the pilot community.” She paused. “I might have a remedy for that situation.”
“A cure for my personality? Sorry, Marshal, but not even Stark has a serum for that.”
“I mean,” the marshal said, “I might have a partner for you.”
Wade stopped dead in his tracks. “A what?”
“A copilot. His epigenetic sequence matches yours in the relevant categories, rare as your sequence is. He’s only just graduated from the pilot program, so he’s eighteen and without a partner. I’m going to suggest you two spar in the Kwoon Combat Room to determine whether you’re as compatible as your genes suggest you are.”
Wade’s heart began pounding. An agonizing, terrifying hope bloomed within him, a hope he’d never dared to entertain. “Who… Who is he?”
A wry smile curled Marshal Parker’s lips, and that itself—the sight of the marshal, smiling—was astounding. Her voice changed, too, into a gentler version of the cool, confident, commanding tone Wade was used to hearing. “My nephew.”
a paper mache bucket ... tumblr mirror 