#this ended up really shippy

[bargainoriley]

Here’s a piece I drew inspired by my thoughts/analysis on echoes (specifically about the interplay between the guitar and keyboard/Rick’s and David’s voices). I wanted to draw what the keyboard/guitar outro sounds like, so I drew Rick and David dancing intensely

The background is supposed to represent meddle’s colors/the relationship forming, and also includes pictures of a guitar and keyboard to symbolize the harmony of the instruments in the outro (and also to symbolize Rick and David respectively of course). Their clothing is based on outfits they wore in the live at Pompeii concert movie! :)

Here’s a version without the musical notes

[kittykalliarts]

Leviathan and Cerberus with their lil Husband

I do have like a more complex design for both of em but I got sick and I really wanna draw some cute sticker stuff for my computer hhhh

[windydrawallday]

I enjoy sharing with @cometchasinglove headcanons about how Earthspark Starscream tends to be a flustered mess... but keeps most of these reactions to himself.

Except if taken by surprise... breaking his no-touchy personal barrier is the easiest way to achieve that.

[m0thwinged]

[swan2swan]

Absolutely incredible how I went into both Camp Cretaceous and Chaos Theory fully ready to commit to a gay ship but both of them wound up giving me next to nothing in the first season.

[elvenbeard]

Road Trip 4/4 🌃

V: "And next you'll draw me like one of your French girls!" Kerry: "Wow, impressive... really brushin' up on your early 2000s meme knowledge!" V: "I'd watch the original extended version of Lord of the Rings for you, babe..." Kerry: "Nerd, you'd do that anyway!"

Every trip has to come to an end, but that only means the next one can start :D Nothing better than winding down on clean sheets and with a long shower after a day-trip through the desert!

Honestly, I had so much fun with this little project, I might do something similar again in the future XD See where else they'll end up on this or the next journey :3 Hope you also had fun following along!

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Hungarian Grand Prix - Lewis Hamilton(ft. Martin Whitmarsh, Mark Webber & Kimi Räikönnen)

+ Seb & Fernando post-DNF

[amelikos]

"Maybe they actually liked their pseudonyms, after all?"

[certifiedwerewolf]

Isn't Riz like canonically aro/ace? Why are there so many fic shipping him with Fabian?

[vexcraft]

hello op who i dont know bcs how could we possibly know of each other

id like to give you a prompt, a fish related prompt, a prompt that involves fish

more specifically, mermaid scar trying to be closer to cub so that hell let his guard down enough to be able to eat him but then realizes hes formed feelings for the guy

thank you for reading this totally not from someone you know ask

hello anon who is definitely not one of my friends mhm. here is some fish stuff for you (warning for some descriptions of violence but nothing very graphic)

-

When the sun started to set, Scar began his usual hunting routine. 

Calling it a hunting routine was rather generous, considering it hadn’t proved much success yet - others would have given up long ago and moved on, but the more time passed, the more determined Scar became. This was going to be his catch.

He let the waves guide him, flicking his tail to stay in the gentle rhythm as he made his way towards the docks.

Maybe today would be the day - Scar had spent way longer than would be generally acceptable waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His people would laugh at him if they knew, tell him he was getting too sentimental and that he needed to get out of his head and pick a new target.

Scar, however, was not about to lose this competition to some weak human that happened to have the power of too many watchful eyes on his side whenever Scar thought he had a chance.

Theoretically the man should have been an easy target, considering the circumstances. Despite being close to the docks that were filled with fishermen and their nets, the man always seemed to sit on the rocks to the side, out of the areas that would have been the most dangerous for Scar. 

He didn’t seem scared either, always coming by even on days like this one, when the wind was slowly starting to pick up and the dark clouds covering the sky made the water look inky black, rays from the setting sun painting the edges of the clouds gold.

Yet somehow, every time Scar thought he had the perfect chance to grab the other and drag him underwater to meet his fate, there was always someone else too close, someone that would either see him snatch the man or hear him struggle in the water. Scar couldn’t afford to get caught.

The docks seemed more quiet than usual today, only a few people around making sure everything was tied in place and any important spare items would be stored away - they were preparing for a storm.

This could be his chance, the golden opportunity he had been waiting for, if the man would show up even with the threat of a storm, that was.

He did, eventually, just like he did every day.

A black haired man sat on the rocks, closer to the dark water than anyone else usually dared to sit. All kinds of rumours travelled around in towns like these, stories about the dangers that loomed below the surface.

Every day Scar listened to the man talk as he waited for his chance. He wore a serene look as he glanced out to the sea, too calm to be aware of Scar’s sharp gaze on him. 

He seemed peaceful as he spoke. He talked about debt and cruelty, death and sickness. Scar listened, waiting below the waves.

It would be easy, to give the man the death he so often spoke of. 

It would only be a splash of water as Scar would reach out to drag him underwater. The man would freeze for a second from shock, before starting to thrash around, trying to escape his sharp hold. Scar would sink his claws into him, preventing him from struggling, before ripping his throat out with his teeth and letting the blood turn the water red.

It would be so easy. No one was around to see, to help. 

Yet Scar hesitated. 

This was the last step of his plan, the last piece of the puzzle. Scar had spent weeks waiting for his moment. What would come after this? Was he supposed to just… forget everything? Pretend like nothing had happened at all, like the man before him never had existed?

Scar was not attached. His people didn’t get attached, not to other beings, not really their own people either. Definitely not humans.

He could feel the storm now, even in the water. It must be cold above the surface, yet the man hadn’t left. It was like he had already accepted the fate he didn’t even know of and suddenly Scar was curious to know more.

He had never questioned why the man did what he did, why did he come here to talk about such things with no one but the wide ocean to listen to him (or so he thought, at least). Scar had always been too busy planning and trying to spot the perfect moment to really think about what all this could mean.

Scar felt intrigued by the look in the dark green eyes that stared off into the distance where the waves had started to grow higher. He wanted to talk to the man, ask him every question he could come up with, but now was not the time for that.

So he decided to wait. For another right moment.

[goat-shoe]

Get Back Up

Platonic(?) HoneyCorn drabble, 302 words.

Honeybee weaves across the roller rink like a salmon through a stream, fighting against the current for a chance to mate in the same pool it spawned in. Her twists flow and twirl behind her. She likes to call them leg warmers, though they suck at their job- they flutter in the breeze around her ankles. Her legs slide across the floor, knees twirling to the rhythm of the rink's music. Hits from the 80's: her favorites.

She rolls to halt at the edge of the rink, stopping with the toe of her skate.

Capricorn sits on the edge of the neon carpet, blue skates donned, perched nervously. (He's never skated before- maybe once as a child, only to fall and scrape his knee on the cul-de-sac's pavement.) 

He looks up at Honeybee.

Honeybee smiles. She holds out a hand to him.

It takes more effort to come to terms with how silly he'll look than it takes just to stand. Both hands grasp Honeybee's glove, squeezing as she helps him to his feet- which slip and slide in the skates along the waxed floor.

Honeybee laughs at him. "Ready to try again?"

Capricorn finds himself blushing, glancing to the floor, embarrassed. Honeybee pats his hands, glove soft and assuring.

"I'm not gonna let you fall this time," Honey promises.

Capricorn manages to push out a laugh, rolling his eyes. "No, I- Okay. I- I think I've got it this time."

Like nothing, Honeybee starts moving, rolling backwards. Still holding Capricorn's hands steady, guiding him to the whirlpool of skaters.

The song ends, and another begins, as Capricorn cautiously kicks her feet against the rink floor.

♫ Like a small boat on the ocean...

♪ Sending big waves into motion...

♫ Like how a single word...

♪ Can make a heart open...

[bragganhyl]

on the note of something i recently rambled about

[fivekrystalpetals]

Lottie @ everyone in the series:

Lottie @ Break:

[raeathnos]

Sketchy dump!

Trying to get better at drawing humans/humanoid creatures by sketching shippy art of my two ocs. Bonus- updated ref sheet wips :P

This is Sky-Shifter (left, bottom) and Night-Stalker (right, top) two of the main characters from the webcomic I want to eventually do. They’re both half-demons, hence the human and feral forms.

Humanoid forms above, feral below.

I’m a messy sketcher, I’m sorry guys Dx

[astersatdawn]

Landmarks of Promise

Relationship: Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto (Tododeku)

Rating: T

Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Established Relationship

Oneshot | 1.1k words

Shouto rubbed the fading scar tissue beneath his thumb. It’s simple skin now, years of healing leaving an almost non-existent white line. Time heals all wounds they say, but Shouto wondered if this little scratch would forever be a tiny road bump. 

-

[Or, over the years, Shouto learned about Izuku’s scars.] 

ao3 link: here

Shouto had seen all of Izuku’s scars, but he wasn’t familiar with most of them.

He’s familiar with the criss-crosses coating Izuku’s hands like a mangled glove—Shouto couldn’t forget. He will always remember how Izuku looked at him, teeth grit and eyes wild as he yelled in that moment, his hands bruising purple for each broken bone he’d given himself to make a point, and Shouto remembered the view clearly even if the vision in his right eye was hazy with scar and flame. 

He suspected he’s familiar with one of the slashes on his body, though Shouto wouldn’t be able to tell which one. Izuku never told him if their fight with Stain had given him any scars, so maybe Shouto was creating a destination on Izuku’s skin that did not exist, not in the same way he witnessed how his hands twisted under the weight of saving Shouto.  

The rest, though, began as strangers. He learned the textures of some of them: smooth parallel lines and waxy burns of differing depths but all the same starry shape. There was a history behind each scar, another story Shouto didn’t know, even as he traced the lichtenberg scar on Izuku’s stomach or kissed the ridges on his wrist. 

Izuku would tell him about them, sometimes. It started slow and simple. 

”I was being kinda careless,” Izuku said with a wistful smile. “I was at home, playing heroes with my mom. I stood on the back of the couch, thinking I’d be okay, and my mom, well, she didn’t even have the time to scold me before I fell off. There was a box there… I don’t remember why—I think it was a package or something? But I hit it and it somehow… did that.” 

He glanced towards his feet which were on Shouto’s lap. Shouto rubbed the fading scar tissue beneath his thumb. It’s simple skin now, years of healing leaving an almost non-existent white line. Time heals all wounds they say, but Shouto wondered if this little scratch would forever be a tiny road bump. 

Others were tinged with hints of stories he’d originally heard second-hand; raids and internships and battles Izuku was willing to further divulge upon his return from the hospital. In those initial explanations he’d talk about the adrenaline of the moment, blows recounted in that fast-pace manner not quite distant from the heat of battle itself. 

It was only in the months after, once day had quieted into night, curtains drawn shut to keep out snooping stars, legs tangled and covers drawn to their chins to muffle their secrets, that Izuku would tell Shouto about them in another way, of the emotions so easy to bury for someone else’s sake, a personal moment rather than one meant for flashing cameras and dazzling spotlights. 

“I was scared I wasn’t going to make it after getting that one,” Izuku admitted one of those nights as Shouto traced thick zig zags from Izuku’s collarbone to his waist. 

Those words were said more often between the two of them than Shouto would like, for braving the fear of death was the unspoken truth of their chosen occupation, and an undeniable emotion to pair with each battle scar. But that fear never diminished the pride that came after as Izuku, with a soft smile, spoke of a memory of another person saved. As much as fear lingered, the scars were equally badges of honor neither of them would give up. 

Most of Izuku’s scars were from battle. Few were from training accidents, and even fewer were from childhood games gone wrong. Yet it didn’t mean much, not when Izuku always had more scars than anyone else their age, from their teenage years to long after they outgrew the dorms. 

The collection obtained during their years at UA hid the ones lying beneath, the ones strategically placed on Izuku’s flesh. “I did these,” he had whispered with lingering shame. Shouto had simply cradled his elbow and kissed the healed razor’s edge. 

There was another set that Izuku didn’t divulge for the longest time, even long after the confessions of self-harm. The distant constellations on his skin—his shoulder, stomach, back, and calf—were the stories Izuku refused to tell, even long after Shouto knew how those scars had to come about, considering a training accident led to Shouto earning a freshly branded star for himself.

For a while, he wasn’t sure what his silence meant. Maybe it was Izuku’s way of letting Bakugou keep his place, from being incriminated by his past. Or that, somehow, keeping the past unspoken was meant as a sign of forgiveness, or maybe even as a symbol of a quiet grudge Izuku kept locked away from all, including himself. 

But eventually, he did tell, on a night they laid side by side after nightmares latched onto every good thing they’ve ever held, reminding them of the wounds they carried between them.

“When he gave me that one he told me to jump off a roof and pray I’ll get a quirk in the next life.” 

Shouto set his head on Izuku’s shoulder as if it’s the place he could hear a pulse. Yet, it was too far away for that, so Shouto buried his face into Izuku’s neck and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Sometimes it feels like that’s what happened that day—to get here, I mean. I’m still afraid one day I’ll open my eyes and realize I jumped off the roof All Might left me on, dreaming of the life I would never get to live before losing the one I had.” 

“You’re here.” Lips brushed against sensitive skin, and Izuku shivered in his hands. Shouto squeezed his waist, and drew Izuku closer. Izuku buried himself deeper into Shouto as he clung onto the weight of the present. “I won’t let you go.”

The fabric of his shirt was tugged down further, knuckles dug into the edge of Shouto’s spine. “But if I wake up there and—”

“I’ll catch you. I’ll find you, whatever it takes. You’ll live.” In the past, today, tomorrow, every day after—when doesn’t matter as long as it’s forever. “I promise.” 

Shouto’s hand drifted up and traced the roads crawling up Izuku’s back, following his map out of order. Each gentle touch was a draw to a memory, each one painful, but real and unforgettable. They’re landmarks for Shouto’s travels to stay by Izuku’s side, even if it meant their time must go out of order for Shouto to meet Izuku there. 

These were the moments Shouto would never know the true depths of, wounds of both soul and bone meant to be carried by one. But he would memorize each for these were the symbols of Izuku’s journey. Wherever the beginning and ending was meant to be, Shouto would find his way there, for that was his vow to keep. 

[funshinebf]

i love thinking about younger vash and wolfwood meeting cause. i think they could both benefit from having a friend during those times in their lives