hope you like it

C O U R A G E - a neverhappen Ichigo & Rukia fanmix

i. massive attack - teardrop // ii. alarm will sound - avril 14th (aphex twin cover) // iii. carter burwell - ride to death // iv. arcade fire - black wave / bad vibrations // v. blur - battery in your leg // vi. mic christopher - what a curious notion // vii. valley maker - by my side (everlasting life) // viii. coldplay - o // ix. edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros - all wash out



Personal Aesthetics | @lhzthepoet

a writer’s mind of creativity, seeing the world through eyes of practicality; you are half in love with the words on the page, imagined figures more familiar than the faces that blur past you day to day; finding new ways to string the same twenty-six letters together; discovering novel methods to heal and to break, to kill and to revive, using only what your pen conjures to life; ‘what is that perfect cocktail blend which creates a human being? is it all chemicals and compounds, or is there something more to the formula’


Part III: The Pack Meeting

Stiles pulled the Jeep up to Derek’s loft eyeing his best friend in the seat beside him and then checking the mirror to see his other best friend Emery with a huge smile on her face.

“So Derek didn’t say why he wanted to meet us?” Stiles asked Scott finally.

“Nope, just said it was important,” Scott shrugged.

“And you don’t know anything Em?” He studied her face closely as she shook her head.

“Well something’s up,” Stiles huffed, “if he brought us here to tell us he’s having little werewolf pups with wild eyebrows and sass for days with Nora, I’m out.”

Emery giggled from the back seat, “you’re such a drama king Stiles.”

“What ever it’s weird,” Stiles rolled his eyes getting out and heading up to the loft.

Keep reading


“…The rabbits are so soft, so small, that it’s hard to gauge the appropriate amount of pressure. It would be too easy to break them, he realizes, and knows he wants nothing to do with them. Before he withdraws, however, Genos pets them one last time, deliberately letting his fingers brush over Saitama’s at the end of his stroke. It’s only a slight touch, but he pulls away immediately, feeling a brief, illicit thrill for what he’s just done.

“You did fine,” Saitama laughs again, apparently oblivious to the touch….”

Salvaged- Chapter 6  by @guardiandae



First half  | The second half (you’re here)

Ink!Sans: @comyet 

Error!Sans: @loverofpiggies

Thank for my friend help me translate this comics!! She is so nice!! Hope she can past all the exeam LOL.

Of coure, here have to thank comyet and loverofpiggies! They created INK!SANS and ERROR!SANS, and they are so amazing! Also let me draw so many stuff about them.

But…seriously, about creation, I consider it for few days(includ some situation about my life).

Drawing fanart make me very happy, REALLY happy, I even has happyness time of my life in these months! I never crazy about some character before…so, I think it’s too over this time.

Everyday, every stuff I posted almost about them…I didn’t mean I hate them now, I still love them…it’s just make me feel like I can draw nothing but them…honestly, I don’t’ like this feeling.

So, I will try to draw something else, like my OC and story by myself(and try to solve some problem about my live), please understand and give me some time to collect my thoughts.

Thank you everyone <3








my tøp album aesthetics
  • twenty one pilots:dark, wooden floors. old, almost-empty wood houses. frosty mornings. half-melted candles. dried salt and sand on seashells brought home from the beach weeks ago. old grand pianos. fingers aching when you've cut the nails too short. mirrors in places too dark to use. flickering yellow lights with pull-chains and no covers. the smell of books. the bite of the cold. hiding from your family. thick sweaters.
  • regional at best:late spring fading into summer. long grass. papercuts. three-quarter-sleeved shirts with holes and tears in them. bike rides to the ballfields. middle school. having too many notebooks. homemade popsicles. brick walls. glue residue on your fingers. writing your own poetry. hiding it from everyone. writing your name in a tree. cassette tapes.
  • vessel:the color sky blue. silver ink. long car rides through sunny mountains to a city. self-help. family reunions. gold rings. outdoor concerts. roller coasters. long, hard cries. holding hands. first kisses. sitting in the dark. learning a new instrument. writing not quite poetry but not quite non-prose. little cuts on your hands you don't remember getting. driving through thunderstorms. smiling through pain. forgetting how to feel happy, then finding it again.
  • blurryface:coming home from college. late-night walks down roads. trying to hide your shaking. tattered notebooks with soft pages. headaches. bitter tea at two in the morning. playing your music too loud. new attempts at self-help that even you don't believe in. red pens. smudged ink. the smell of sharpies. crying in front of an old friend. lying on the floor for no reason. cold pizza eaten alone. trying to remember how it was to be okay.