#the flight is short

[sparkles-and-trash]

sitting around the hotel lobby waiting for the cab to the airport, part of me is heartbroken to leave, and part of me cannot wait for my pets, bed, shower and home again ♥️

[sonicreferencephotos]

Rouge the Bat; SONIC X SHADOW GENERATIONS: Dark Beginnings

[nataliesscatorccio]

YELLOWJACKETS

[tomswifty-fr]

Tundra face notes

[girlw-amermaidtattoo]

The feel of nylon-clad legs grazing over your skin—soft, but just out of reach. You squirm, hands trembling to touch, but you know better. Only good subs get that kind of attention. And you? You’re lucky she even lets you this close.

[autumnalmess]

To anyone struggling with their mental health this holiday season: read Les miserables by Victor Hugo

it won't help, but at least then you'll know about the sewers

[smallerdelusions]

Dinovember Day 20: Yi Qi

[rosywave-art]

doodled my main coli fighters in ms paint just for fun

[demonslayedher]

No, it did not fly far.

[bob--and--friends]

Exits are here, here and here. - Bobbi

@bobbiisbobbi

[ynseeun]

BALLOON IN LOVE 🎈 240613-240616

[s0fti3w1tch]

This is a ref for Leo I have for an upcoming fanfic, but this is probably generally how I'll draw post-movie ROTTMNT Leo half the time now.

Also Leo uses a cane because I use a cane because of injuries sustained— not too severe, but mobility aid is needed to make things easier after that

He still has his other blades, but this is to showcase the more headcanonny art. And yeah, on the combat cane, the height adjustments are replaced with buttons to (1) active the shocky-shocky! and (2) detach the top. I'll probably update it bc I think Donnie would go ham on upgrading it for Leo.

And out-of-context spoiler for the fic:

[gimmethemprimals]

🌊 wavecrest-confessions  Follow

whenever I see someone making fun of the tidelords disappearance I get SO angry. Its just so insensitive to water dragons, and it ALWAYS comes from a wind, earth, or ice dragon. Like I don’t think you have any ground to stand on guys, your deities are still more neglectful than the tidelord and he’s not even here

❄️ ice-ice-baby  Follow

Dude your god has been gone for so long his long lost children came back before him

🪨 freshpebble-deactivated

Aren’t you the one who carved your fanart of femboy Icewarden into the side of the pillar.

❄️ ice-ice-baby  Follow

???? You’re literally a shade apologist

💫 see-the-stars  Follow

HOW ARE THERE SHADE APOLOGISTS ON DRUMBLR IN THIS DAY AND AGE I THOUGHT THEY WERE ONLY ON DRITTER

🍃 riding-high  Follow

are we gonna just brush over the femboy icewarden thing

🦅 talonafan2477  Follow

@ see-the-stars the Arcanist is the ORIGINAL shade apologist what are you talking about

🦅 talonafan2477  Follow

btw “ice ice baby” is apart of from clan froststep that has a history of supporting the gaolers during the freezeflash war and thus the destruction of the banescales

🌑 walkingshadows Follow

Yeah but what about the femboy icewarden thing

🔥 its-gettin-hot  Follow

you can excuse genocide but draw the line at femboy icewarden?

🌑 walkingshadows Follow

im not drawing the line i just wanna see it myself

🌺 bug-claws Follow

thats fair

[knightowl-studios]

Portrait commission for Avmire on Flight Rising. This one took much longer than I expected, but I think it really turned out well in the end :] Getting to draw an Undertide for the first time was so fun, too!

[soscarlett1twas]

Flight Home

↳ Andrew and Darling make their way back to London. ↳ 664 words

A month and a half. 46 days. That was how long Andrew had been abroad.

For a man who had never left the United Kingdom before, he took to travel quite easily. Darling joked about him being in “vacation mode” quite often, as he exchanged overcoats for tacky button-ups, glasses for contacts, and his usual demeanor of propriety for laxity. Andrew had gone off the deep end for their vacation.

And what a trip it was. The Caribbean, and each island which made it, was beautiful. They had run away and ended up in Wonderland.

But all good things must come to end.

As the plane moved down the runway, Darling shifted their headrest to place their head on it comfortably. They sat in the middle seat, pressed between Andrew, who had the window luxury, and a kind older woman who boarded before them. Andrew had offered his seat, but they declined. The flight home was for them to sleep.

He intended to sleep as well, of course — but island hopping and all the flying which accompanied it did not acquaint him well to airplanes. Only long into a flight, with a stagnant incline and smooth air, could Andrew find himself able to close his eyes for a few hours.

Darling’s hand laced into his, pressing lightly into his palm. He smiled as they closed their eyes, dropping limp into the seat, prepared to rest for the night.

After he whispered ‘goodnight’ and kissed their hand, he turned his attention back to the window. The harsh lights above them morphed to a more appropriate blue, darkening the internal cabin.

He watched the runaway lights as they became quicker and quicker, eventually forming into a singular line as the plane angled itself upwards. The takeoff was smooth, barely a jolt, taking them into the air.

Beating air silenced any other sound as the airport became small beneath them, its surrounding trees becoming shrubs as they furthered the incline.

Jamaica — their final destination, and now their waypoint before home — had their airport on the coast. So water, in its clean, cerulean colors that struck Andrew, a regular viewer of the Thames, as heavenly, quickly exchanged the concrete scenery. He watched it fade beneath them with fondness. London had many things. Clean water was not one of them.

When he turned his attention to the landscape however, his reverie lapped into his throat, making it feel hollow with emotion he couldn’t describe. Constellations of lights painted the ever-distant island, marking exactly where each city was, swaths of dark forests between them. Winding roads around the shoreline were trailed by sparkles, not unlike the runway. Cars moved to a steady pace along them.

And Andrew realized how much he had missed this.

Escaping was what he dreamed of. Still, he clung to it, his eyes holding onto the island as it got smaller, his neck hurting from craning to watch the window. But for all the love he had for him and Darling’s adventures, for all their memories made, it was the familiarity of home that kept him glued to the sight.

As Jamaica departed from his view, he turned to face, back straight, the seat in front of him. Darling’s eyes remained shut.

Andrew squeezed their palm, and their weak return confirmed their fatigue.

He watched them, a sight unable to be taken from him — their lashes against their face, the curve of their lips, the crown of their head — and sunk into his own chair.

He loved their travels. He loved them, peacefully dozing away to whatever dreams. But, finally on track to returning, he could not help but crave the physical location of his life. The one he could confidently say was his, not a “vacation mode” spectacle of his chaste lust for adventure.

Andrew scoffed to himself, shaking his head, his glasses, finally saved from their case, slipping down his nose. Home. What an easy thing to hate. What an essential thing to desire.

[bakathief]

„On our way to the US someone was killed in a toilet cabin of the plane but my best friend of who is still in high school solved it, because I explained to him how bras work. When we arrived in NY my friend‘s mom did some crazy stunt that had her oldtimer only drive on 2 wheels for a while while my friend used that opportunity to drag me halfway through an window of a moving car at high speed. However, just when we thought the police caught that crazy stunt it turned out the police inspector was an actress, perfectly disguised as the police chief. Crazy! Then we went to the play at night and after witnessing some private drama I almost got smashed by stage equipment. That was something. Then it was time for the play but the lead actor got shot midair so the play got stopped and my friend got to solve another murder case.

Anyway, on our way home we got almost assaulted by a different serial killer we ran into but he spared us because we saved his life. I passed out somewhere along the way because of a fever.“

— Ran Mouri telling her family about her first trip to the US