#They’re both dorks

[bonesbunns]

Doodling the boys… can’t wait for the 29th!!!

[lenny-zesty]

Thad sometimes calls V “schnookums” as a joke

V calls Thad “bubkins” in response

they just keep making stupid pet names like that because it’s really funny to them

- 💛💚

I EXPLODE INTO A MILLION PIECES

[dogsstew]

Quick WIP sketch thingy of …. Them…..

When times were better for us all.

[the-coffee-fandom]

Mattholomule 😂 Varian vibes

LOOK AT THE OUTRO ART!!!

[star-goose]

Them <3

My Pilot character Aloysia “Beans” Jammer and her faithful observer Charlie!

<3

[harbingerofsoup]

garashir is incredible because you have an exiled spy for an oppressive state with fucked parentage who doesn’t want to let himself be happy, but also can’t resist temptation; then you have a genius doctor who comes across as naive and too optimistic, but has had an ongoing identity crisis since the age of 15 because he learned his parents’ solution to his childhood disabilities was eugenics

and yet somehow they are so lame, just so embarrassing

[whaliiwatching]

a rendezvous beyond

and a halfway closeup just bc im rlly happy with how the bg turned out lol

[swatchlings-art]

this is my ideal blitzbee dynamic honestly 💜💛

[multirptrash]

Christine was not about to be a person who was thrown off by a look in return. He was clearly Vulcan…and she had only seen a few Vulcans in her lifetime, and none of them were…well, he was certainly not half bad to look at.

Careful to not be rude (or, well, more than she might have already been on accident) she smiled softly, and sat right in front of him down on the sand. She tilted her head curiously, the smile staying put, and she asked, “You new here?”

Never Say Never

multirptrash​:

Christine Chapel. Twenty-one years old. Studying to be a doctor. She came from a loving home, with supportive parents, and already had a best gal for a best friend one year above her in the Academy. She was heading into it with a near-perfect grade-point average, a fantastic work ethic, and she was intelligent to boot.

But Christine was also coming off of one of hte worst breakups o her life. The getting-together had been messy, the relationship had been messy, the breakup was messy. A year of pure emotional torture, dragging her heart through the mud. The only comfort she had was that it was over, and he wasn’t going to be anywhere near the Academy.

Another bright spot, she surmised, stepping with bare feet into the cool sand, was that the Academy campus was a mere mile away from the pristine beaches of San Fransisco.

Christine too spotted the bonfire, but wrinkled her nose at the idea…bounding over there with endless energy only to likely get rejected was not what she needed right now. So she instead began a slow trek down the rocks…hoping instead to not run into anyone, but moments later, she spotted a dark, tall figure…and against her better judgement, her hand tilled on the railing, and her eyebrows climbed high in her forehead. Sure, it was hard to tell from here…but tall and dark was certainly a step leading to handsome.

Spock, carrying his cloak over his left arm and his shoes in the same hand, was still wandering—both down the beach and in his own mind. He didn’t catch sight of the young woman standing among the rocks until just a few yards separated them. The same intense evening sunlight that had gilded the sea also bathed her in gold, making a halo out of her bright hair. Light-colored hair was such a recessive trait on Vulcan that it no longer appeared in the population. Therefore, Spock had been fascinated to observe a variety of such colors, from flaxen to amber to fiery copper, during his first visit to a space station full of humans as a child. The visual appeal of hadn’t diminished in the intervening years, and his eyes lingered somewhat appreciatively on the woman now.

It was only fair, since she already seemed to be staring at him. He’d grown accustomed to being stared at from an early age and attached no particular emotion to the experience, though he had found the best response when among humans was to calmly return the stare. Most often, it seemed to make them uncomfortable and got them to look away in short order. 

The sun behind him threw his profile into sharp relief as he approached her—including his distinctive pointed ears. He wasn’t dressed for a trip to the beach; not in any classic human sense, anyway. He wore long, dark trousers and a long-sleeved charcoal shirt with an angled, asymmetrical neckline. His bare feet were the only beach-appropriate aspects of his whole ensemble. By now, they were of course covered in sand. Spock said nothing despite them now being close enough to exchange a verbal greeting. He simply inclined his head in acknowledgment before taking a seat on one of the big boulders to slip his shoes back on.

[kubosai-central]

Imagine Kuboyasu still in his pining era and he’s discussing it with Kaidou and Kaidou, being the way he is, goes, “Oh, we should probably create some distance so that Saiki doesn’t think that you like me instead.” but, being the way they are, they take it to such an extreme that Saiki starts getting the idea that they don’t like each other anymore and asks Kaidou about it and since that man can’t keep a secret for his life, he tells Saiki about the whole spiel.

[superiorsturgeon]

First Date Regrets

Jaune: *on his first date with Pyrrha, eating Vacuan spicy noodles* So, tell me more about where you grew up! 😄

Jaune: *internal* OH GODS THESE NOODLES ARE HOT!!! I wanted to impress Pyrrha by ordering something cool but this was a horrible mistake!! 🥵

Pyrrha: *takes a bite of her Valian gravy-smothered sausage* Oh, it was lovely! A bit warmer than Vale in the summer, but very comfortable the rest of the year! ☺️

Pyrrha: *internal* Oh, no! I forgot that Valian sausage gives me gas! I can feel my stomach gurgling right now! I hope I can hold it in until I can get away to the bathroom! I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Jaune! 😰

Jaune: *sweating* Did you get any snow during winter? 😰

Pyrrha: *clenching and squirming a bit* Oh, not really! It mostly just got rainy and misty! 😖

Jaune: It sounds very nice! Maybe someday I’ll get to visit!

Jaune: *internal* MAYDAY!!! 🔥🌶️ 🥵

Pyrrha: That sounds lovely!

Pyrrha: *internal* Oh, LORD…! 😫

Jaune: *shakily edges his seat back* Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom…!

Pyrrha: *knuckles white from gripping the table* Oh, take your time! I’ll be here when you get back!

Jaune: *sprints to the bathroom*

Pyrrha: *waits until Jaune has rounded a corner before sprinting to the other bathroom*

Nora: *peeks out from her hiding spot in a potted plant* Dang, I thought they were doing well until the moment they both ran out of the room!

Ren: *disguised as busboy* Do you think they’re okay?

Nora: Probably, but in the meantime why let their food get cold? *already eating Jaune’s noodles*

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

TTD - And then They Were Roommates ™

Before Villain was their roommate, Hero never had any peculiar feeling about their apartment. They were grateful to have a roof over their head, but were not particularly picky about how it looked like under. It wasn’t like they had the kind of time to arrange the place. To be honest, with their working hours, they didn’t see why they would find energy left for this. As long as they had a bed and electricity, it was fine. The result was a reasonably clean room, but a rather bland place. The only thing that was really personal was the vanity in the bathroom, covered with hair products and beads of all colors. At Villain’s displeasure, Hero spent hours in front of it, because unlike some people whining from behind the door, they had their priorities well in order.

True, Hero had felt a bit insecure when Villain had entered for the first time, stopping in front of every furniture with such solemnity you’d swear they were staring at a masterpiece in a museum. Flustered, the not-so-proud owner had explained that they were not that rich, but Villain had seldom made any comment, and well, with their shadow covering them it wasn’t like their body language was readable. Maybe they were tired too, and after their place had just been destroyed by Supervillain it was understandable. They’d glistened towards the guest room and locked their door without a word.

The agency had called in the middle of that night for news. Hero, toying with their blanket, had assured their superior on the phone that yes, Supervillain had been destroyed for good, no they weren’t making it up, and oh by the way, Villain had reformed and changed their ways, hmmhmm, yep, definitively. On the other side of the line, that declaration was met by no little skepticism. After one hour of pleading, they’d at last convinced their interlocutor not to send a team to eliminate the threat. The next day, they were ordered to keep Villain under lock and key. Villain had stared when they’d shyly explained the situation to them, brandishing a padlock they didn’t really know how to use, and had only said:

“I could open this pathetic thing in my sleep.”

Given how gifted Villain was with building tools and machines, it was probably no idle boast. The good news, though, was that they’d accepted to stay in their room whenever they were left alone as long as Hero would give them an old game-boy left in a drawer for years to keep them occupied. As time passed, it became evident that Villain was an indoor creature who was delighted at the idea of not stepping outside ever again. In return, Hero had given them pretty much whatever they wanted, including scraps of metal and lots of tools. At first, they’d said nothing, but when parts of the room had began to be covered with sinister forms, they’d felt they had to put their foot down:

“You are not building a torture room in my place.”

“What else am I supposed to do, you oppressor ?”

“I’m the one paying the taxes.”

Villain had sulked for a moment after that, but then they’d suddenly asked:

“Aha, but what if my torture tools were also useful appliances?”

Hero had stared and said:

“No.”

“No as no or no as it can’t be?”

“Both.”

“You have little faith.”

Villain had immediately put themself to work. In an alarmingly short time, they’d built a tiny guillotine for the kitchen. It could cut even coconuts properly, in one strike. Hero couldn’t use it much, because it made them feel sorry for the poor vegetables (especially after seeing Villain do it, yelling “death to all of you, you feeble preys!” at a bunch a carrots), but they had to acknowledge it was a decent tool to slice a loaf of bread. Actually, Villain was good with the kitchen in general. Being disturbingly fond of cutting vegetables and fruits, it was no surprise that they’d fallen in love with the blender Hero had never used before:

“For what it is but a miniature death trap, where my innocent victims are trapped in a transparent prison and melted into oblivion by unforgiving blades?”

Hero had asked what kind of blade would be forgiving, and they’d got lightly tapped on the head with a cardboard tube for their trouble. But the outcome of all of this was a fridge always filled with bottles full of drinkable food that never got Hero’s stomach upset. Villain had even made a damn acupuncture chair which spikes looked deadly, but were in fact quite soothing. After that they’d stood up, and Hero just knew that they were puffing their chest behind their shadow:

“So, have I succeeded in my impossible task?”

And Hero could do nothing but answer:

“Yes. Completely. It’s genius.”

And it was. Really, the biggest beef they had was the time when Villain had stolen their two favorite magnets on the fridge. They’d stopped dead in front of the aro and ace pride flags that fixated the to-do lists of the day, declared that green, purple and black were traditional colors for villains and so they were “bound to have them”, had yoinked them and flied back to their room before Hero had time to react. And as much as they were for people exploring their own identity, how were they supposed to keep their groceries list in sight now?

But none of this was the weirdest thing. It was the fact that whenever Hero returned to their place with all these strange additions, it didn’t feel bad or crowded. It was the strange new and warm feeling that finally they were home, they were home, they were home.

(Though they still wanted their magnets back.)

*

Check the These Two Dorks Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with this Hero and Villain. This is how they met and now they’re roommates.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[inaris-pokemon-world]

(@askopuntia) Opuntia@Mochi "You really do like technology, don't you? Aside from abandoned and ancient structures, we don't have much technology where I'm from. What got you interested in it?"

The Mewtwo finally pauses in his rant, stock-still for just a moment before a fond look appears on his face. He levitates over an item from a shelf and holds it up.

”One of these, actually,” Mochi said, looking fond. “When I was still pretty little, I asked Ma and Uncle how Poké Balls worked. Pokémon were so much bigger than the little orbs, so how did they fit? They didn't know the specifics, so I took an empty one and… started tinkering.”

Mochi laughed. “Within a week, I'd figured out how they functioned, and after that I made some modifications… ended up turning a Poké Ball into basically an Ultra Ball with a Poké Ball shell. Then I took apart a toaster and just never stopped fiddling with tech!”

Some of the excitement returned, and Mochi retrieved a bunch of games from a nearby shelf.

“I have a whole bunch of games in my collection. What kind of games do you like?” he asked. “I’ve got Super Smash Bros, Mario Kart, Among Us, Kirby Star Allies, CoD… um, maybe not that last one!” Mochi said quickly, noticing the age of the asker. “I’ve got just about any genre you might want.”

Mochi slowly turned around, a smile appearing on his face as he leaned over Ume.

“Not everyone had thumbs, dummy,” Ume huffed.

“And not everyone has an attitude, but here we are,” Mochi retorted.

The two maintained their serious expressions for a few second before they both started laughing. They both clearly enjoy the banter.

@askopuntia @kutsukispast

[emotionalsupportsoccerball]

Megan so clearly making fun of Sonny kills me

[peaches2217]

There’s a well-worn painting of Peach in Mario’s left pocket. It’s about 4x4”, and there’s two seams running perpendicular along it from where he’s unfolded and re-folded it into a two-inch square countless times. Her image is battered, smudged, faded, you name it; it’s been exposed to elements of every extreme, brushed with his fingertips, held against his chest, kissed in the quiet of the night. When his heroics take him far from home, that painting brings him back, and he calls upon her for strength like the devout invoking a patron saint. When he’s by her side again, it sits idly in his pocket, unneeded for now but always within reach.

There’s a locket hidden in the back of Peach’s brooch. She spent many hours on the painting of Mario that occupies it, licking her brushes to fine points to squeeze in as much detail as possible, but every day she’s grateful for her efforts. He stays close to her heart whether he’s on the other side of town or the other side of the world. And every morning, she looks upon his face and vows to do her best, kissing his dimpled cheek before pinning her brooch into place. She worries it’s terribly silly, this little secret and the immense comfort she derives from it, but we all have our sentiments, don’t we?

[vintagelilies]

Fully believe Matt got that tattoo because Gus had seen kids drawing it literally fucking E v e r y w h e r e in the human realm and decided that it was cool and taught it to Matt and Matt just. Really wanted Gus to think he was cool.

Motherfucker was like “I gotta keep up my bad boy demeanor!!!! Ksnsjs if I’m not cool then what am I!!!”