#i hope i got the vibe right :)

[chloesimaginationthings]

Michael and Vanny had wild teen years in FNAF

[paintedcrows]

"Bill... Can I call you that?" / "You can call me whatever you want except 'My Love'!"

"Ha ha! That's a joke! Everybody loves me!"

Y yo a ti Ford, or whatever. @fearoftriangles pointed out that in the Spanish version of The Book of Bill: Bill says Ford can call him anything but "Mi Amor" instead of anything but "Late for Dinner" and-

...I swear, Spanish translators cannot keep getting away with this

[gordonfreemanspussy]

happy october :]

@scienceteamtober day 1: before the game

with lovely beautiful awesome forever character art by @winkreallyisntable goes CRAZY!!! full art below the cut.

[codes-and-stuffs]

getting back into lifesteal and this came to me in a dream..

[boar-cry]

January – ¿Cómo te va?

(context for this under the cut)

Yay! This is another project I've been planning since last October, where I draw a piece based on a song that I associate with the twins! Tones and genres will vary (I promise not every piece will be sad 😭), and it'll be tagged as Twins, Tunes & Tonics.

I'm going for at least one song a month until December, but we'll see if I can actually keep up with this ^^;

[nekrosmos]

"Nikolai had shattered Yegerov's friend's skull with the wrench propped up against the wall nearby. The blood had spattered up his bare torso, matting his chest hair, stained the side of his face. Shirtless, with a buzzcut he hadn't worn since his time in the Russian Air Force, he looked every part the madman he had become."

From this fic by @on-a-lucky-tide

As you can see, the image staid with me.

Alternate versions ( No blood, Nik with hair, lineart) under "keep reading" ⬇️​⬇️​⬇️​

[prisma-palace]

⭐️ hermit-a-day may — day 1-4

sorry im late! i wanted to chip in for hermit may but i didnt actually start *before* may so im a little behind. i plan to draw 4 hermits in this format every week and then do all the bonus sunday stuff near the end of may :)

closeups ⭐️

[kyo-mei]

Very haphazard doodles of HEARTSTEEL's Ezreal

A friend made me listen to PARANOIA; I am a changed person now.

bonus: my 2.2k pins of skz stuffs in pinterest is now finally put into use again.

[applestruda]

VOTE JOE

[garygoldenbignaturals]

hellooo @lavenderinkart apologies if i made you wait, but i was your tes secret santa! opted to draw your gorgeous character valiah in all her vampire glory. hope you like it <3 and thank you to @scorchedcandy for hosting the event!

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[raindropren]

Welcome to, The art I've been working on all afternoon is taking to long and I wanted to go to sleep cause it's 1am so i drew the Juppet Puppet, the joe hills, to have something to post on DA.

Yipppee!! Joe hills!! :]

Honestly i do find this quite cute tho. it's fun. i like it. yup

The bigger piece I'm working on also has joehills in it btw. which is why,, i,, drew him, now. yup!! I'm tired!! :)

[darkxwolf17]

j, v and uzi being gay together.

anything would be nice, though something like this image could be fun

flustered by pretty women = do raptor arms

[coffee-at-daybreak]

a fate with you | miraak x reader

"I had forgotten what it looked like."

Your cheek rests against his shoulder as you turn your head towards him. "What?"

"The sky." Miraak pauses to take a deep breath, and you can hear the inhale near your ear. "The stars, the moons."

Your head shifts as you follow his gaze up. A fortunate night for there to be no clouds, so you can see it all. And being out in the plains of Whiterun, without a tree or mountain nearby to block your view, the sky stretches beautifully all around you.

"The sky in Apocrypha always remained the same." Miraak's voice is soft but somber. "For so long, it was the only one I knew - the only one I could recall."

Sympathy squeezes at your heart. You press closer to him, your side curled against his own and your head brushing his shoulder. You're lying flat on your backs, barely fitting on the single bedroll you'd situated on a small clearing. Not that you minded a reason to be this close, where you can feel his warmth seeping into you.

A few moons had passed and there is still stark reminders of his time in Apocrypha. He seems to be learning - and relearning - rather well from your travels together, but there are still shadows of his past looming relentlessly. And in the case of restless, anxious nights, much like tonight, you do your best to stay up with him, hoping your companionship will triumph over that of his haunted memories.

"It makes you feel small, does it not?" You ask, reaching a hand out and stretching your fingers. "Puny, like ants on a log."

He huffs. A brief chuckle, but a chuckle all the same. "Indeed."

You start to slowly move your hand, fingers tracing the stars. You squint as you try to visualize the connections between them. The constellations merely twinkle back at you.

"You are anything but puny, Dovahkiin." Miraak announces gently into the silence. "A hero known amongst men and mer. Your power and influence reach beyond this plane."

A weight forms in your belly, a small stone of uneasiness. "I know," you murmur. "But sometimes I welcome feeling small, and feeling ... insignifcant."

Your hand drops, limply lying at your side. Miraak's arm shifts slightly, his hand seeking yours. Rough, warm fingers glide over your own.

"Why?" He questions.

You look at all the stars again. If you had no responsibilities, perhaps you could lie here forever, until you'd counted every star and speckle, until you could recognize every constellation.

"I can envision a life where I am just ... me. Not the Dragonborn, not any other fancy title. Just another simple soul, without any power or destiny to my name." An emotional tendril wraps around your heart but you keep going anyway. "It seems so quiet. So peaceful."

Silence stretches on for a moment. Miraak's fingers still from their lazy strokes along the back of your palm. He tenses ever so slightly against you.

"Do you long for such a life?"

He tries to deliver it as an innocent question and nothing more, but you hear the tension behind his tone. The worry.

You hum. "Sometimes." The pause that follows is brief, but you still feel the weight of his anticipation.

Your hand stretches, twining your fingers with his own. It feels like a perfect fit, and no matter what, it fills you with a sense of comfort and ease.

"But then I realize I would have never crossed paths with you, and I long for this life more."

He breathes a silent sigh of relief at your words, and a smile graces your lips. You lean your head further against his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath your ear.

"Perhaps in this life, we were fated to meet because of your power - our power." He gives your hand a squeeze, the pad of his thumb brushing your own. "But I wish to believe than in any life, in every life, we are fated to meet anyway."

There is a skip in your heart rate, and a warmth blooming in your chest. "You do?"

"Yes." Miraak's voice is so low and soft that were he not right up against you, it might be drowned out by the distant sounds of the plains. But despite its hushed volume, you can make out the sincerity behind his words. Like he is drawing them out from somewhere deep inside him, like his very heart is bringing them to the surface. "I would find my way to you in any plane of existence. Were we mere crop farmers on Skyrim, or grains of sand on the shores of a sea, or stars out in the endless sky. I would find you, and we would be two halves of a whole, much as we are now."

His body shifts, turning a little as he brings his free hand up to your head. He brushes away any hair that had fallen onto your forehead, placing a feather light kiss there instead. "My fate is you. It has always been, it always will be."

Tears prick at your eyes, and you wish to say something back, but you’re unsure how the words will come out past the lump in your throat. Instead you grasp at the shoulder fabric of his robes and lean your head up to find his lips with your own.

He returns the kiss like it is the most natural thing in the world. It is easy to believe his words about you two being the halves of a whole when his lips slot so perfectly against your own, or when your bodies seem to piece together as you lean in to each other. You break apart for only a second to catch air, drawing in the same unsteady breaths before you are colliding again, the familiarity of his taste and touch conquering your own consciousness.

[wwillywonka]

happy birthday @tea-earl-grey! have some silly janeways!

[mdverse]

@glartswap for @james99999!! couldn't resist trying to draw ur boys for u :)