so it's up to you to guess who~

The Hogfly’s kind of… spacey so it took me a while to realise it keeps using female pronouns for Hiccup because he raised/trained it and it thinks he’s its mother.

It’s also canon that Hiccup has rescued a lot of orphaned dragon eggs and looked after baby dragons.

how many dragons are there on berk who get into an argument and say that they’ll have you know their mother, the King,

i want to write relationships that are complicated.

i want to write the on-again-off-again relationships. i want the screaming matches and the cancelled dates and the hurt feelings and the second guesses and second chances. 

i want to write people who completely shake up each other’s daily routine and flip their entire world on its axis. i want them to drive each other crazy and question why they bother sticking around and then remember the way their partner laughs or see them in a moment of vulnerability that tells them ‘this is is why i stay. this is why i love you.' 

i want to write relationships with struggles. with class differences and financial divide. two people who are so completely different they somehow complete each other. i want the jealousy and the feelings of inadequacy that goes with it. 

i want to write people who aren’t afraid to be honest with their partner. who aren’t afraid to say 'yeah you’re being an asshole’ followed by 'but i still love you, you idiot.’

i want the first time they see their partner cry and the morning after their first intimate night when everything feels so right.

i want people who get so used to one another that they stop going the extra mile. i want the 'you don’t make the effort because you already have me’ argument.

i want relationships that challenge each other to be better people and make each other question their beliefs and moral compass. 

but most of all, i want to write relationships that are real. that make you feel something. i want to go on the emotional rollercoaster right along with them.

that’s what i want.


Do you have your own mood lighting now, because, frankly, the accent is enough.

OK SO THERES THIS RLLY CUTE BOY WHO WORKS AT THIS COFFEE SHOP I GO TO ALL THE TIME and hes always smiling at me and knows my name and today he was working at the register and i went up and ordered and he handed me my receipt with my name on it and i said “oh do you know how to spell my name right?” and hes like “Oh oops i guess not” and then i was like “its kinda hard to remember bc its spelt weird you might wanna write it down, its [my phone number]” AND THEN INSTEAD I TOLD HIM MY PHONE NUMBER AND HE STARTED SMILING AND LAUGHING AND HES LIKE “can i get your reciept back?” AND I GAVE IT TO HIM AND HES LIKE “alright how do you spell it again?” AND THEN HE WROTE MY NUMBER ON THE BACK OF IT AND WHEN I WAS TAKING MY DRINK I WAS LIKE “most people call me lexi but u can call me anytime” I AM S O GOO D


”- Well, we all know what was happening last Monday and who you were with. So I’m assuming…
- Dad, what the hell was I supposed to say? ‘Hi, that’s Derek Hale but he’s deaged. Because that can happen. Oh, and by the way, Agent McCall, your son is a werewolf?!’

Sterek AU: When Derek gets hit with a temporary deaging curse, the pack does it best to hide this fact. Stiles thinks he did a great job but the “cousin Miguel” thing gets out of hand and soon half of the town thinks Stiles is secretly dating some guy (including “cousin Miguel,” the actual guy that Stiles wants to date).

You can’t tell me that Pre-Kerberos Shiro and Keith didn’t do sappy dumb embarrassing stuff when they go on dates. LOOK. AT. THEM. Friggin matching shirts. How gross can you guys get? Even Zarkon can see that blush of yours Shiro. Keep it together. They’re so cute I can’t stop drawing them. OTL

Redbubble Shop

813 Month Day 4 - Road Trip (word from rosiedenn)

“Jesus Christ, What the hell is going on up there?”

“I don’t know, but we just had to go and visit that market, didn’t we? Now we won’t be able to get to the resort until tonight, or I guess in this traffic, next year.”

“Rox, you’re the one who missed the exit and several turns because you insist on using that goddamn GPS that gives its directions at the shittiest times. We were already getting antsy stuck in the car, I was trying to make the best of a bad situation, alright?”

“Ax, stop swearing in front of my nephew–Sora, I told you twice already, sit down properly or you’ll fly out the window if we get in an accident–”

“Oh right, yeah, because scaring the kid with promises of death is notably better than him hearing my potty mouth, right?“

“Axel, I’m in no mood for this right now, can you just shut up and find the way to the Park?”

“What the hell do you think I’ve been doing all this time? Singing ‘Hakuna Matata’?!”

“Uncle Roxas, I, um…I need the bathroom.”


I guess you won’t be able to remember who I was after all. Back when I was in middle school, I went against you once, and lost. It frustrated me so much I kept practising even after I quit… and when I came up to high school… The guy I swore I would defeat was standing right in front of me as my teammate.

  • so we’ve both come to the same party in accidentally matching costumes and now everyone thinks we’re dating
  • that black lipstick is mine, bitch 
  • ewww, pumkin spice lattes are so gross…. i said that out loud, didn’t i? rip me, about to be killed by a horde of hipsters
  • you’re the only one that believes me when i say this is real blood and i need to go to hospital
  • please hang with me and be bitter about halloween
  • yes hello this is the egging police
  • you see me buying all these candies and you think its for the trick or treaters and im too embarrassed to tell you that im taking advantage of the discount to stock up my stash
  • ive been hired to do some scaring and youre the asshole who punched me in the face
  • hello, fellow chaperon. let me guess, your cousin is the frankensteins monster. i can see the resemblance
  • you think your fake spider is funny, huh? watch me while i shove it down your throat
  • so i was planning on impressing you with my mad pumpkin carving skills but i ended up cutting my self pretty badly, but hey, youre driving me to the ER so i guess it kinda worked
  • “arent you a little old for trick or treat?” “no, do you have king size?”
  • i dont know you, but holy shit how did you get your fave to look like its been ripped in half? awesome
  • i thought i could go through the haunted house by myslef, which was a terrible mistake. please be my cuddle buddy even though i dont know you i just need to get through this
Letters that Ed never sent 2/? 1 

car707  asked:

Was the lost fry (2014) ever reunited with its owner?

sadly, he never tracked down the careless one who once held his fried fate in his hands. but alas, no matter, shed no tears for the estrangement of the lost fry and his absent owner, for the fry continued on and built a life of his own, rose up off the ground, literally and figuratively, and made something of himself. that fry now manages a cellphone store, bowls an average 220, and drives a pretty sweet ‘81 trans am. so there you go, i guess happy endings really do exist.

Someone mentioned AUs and so I thought of this AU idea I have been brainstorming and thought I could try some concept art from it!

As you can probably guess, it’s a Medieval AU! (I love Medieval times.) The kingdoms of Humans and Monsters are at war.

Toriel is the former Monster Kingdom queen who is now living as a simple maiden on the outskirts of a forest between the human settlement and the monster one. Abhored by the war that the King declared, she gave up her crown and went into hiding. She is also a powerful sorceress, but does not use those powers to aid in the war and instead takes in wounded that she finds, monsters and humans alike, and tends them back to health with magic. She rarely goes into the monster city, except to gather supplies for tending her house guests.

Sans is a squire and has been a squire for an extremely long time due to having no drive to become or study to become anything, despite his clear capabilities to do so if he wished (though there are rumors that he once studied beneath a brilliant sorcerer (alchemist?) by the name of Gaster). He does not actively help in the war, but he does practice sorcery in secret, specializing in time and motion magic. His brother Papyrus strives to join the Royal Knights of the monster kingdom, led by Undyne, and Sans supports his brother by taking odd jobs to pay for his training and other needs. His love of jokes and puns makes Papyrus often question why Sans does not simply become a Court Jester.

…There is more to my ideas for the AU, but I will leave it at that for now, since I am only showcasing these two here.


I’M not a pro or something at drawing eyebrows, I just tend to have too much time… *cough*

Anyway! This little tutorial/guide-thingy is really only MY opinion about eyebrows in face-ups (or drawing/paintings in general), so if you are a face-up artist who makes crisscross eyebrows please don’t get offended.

I guess I’ll do a second part - this one is more  ‘understanding’, and the next one would be 'how to do it yourself’.

I hope its helpful!


Sebastian Michaelis & Ciel Phantomhive || Kuroshitsuji


So after tweeting about larry, Igor ( from the brazilian band that opened their concerts on Brazil ) also made a post on his oficial facebook page telling people to calm down because he wont tell what he saw anyway,here’s some screenshots:

Translation : I’m not telling what i ended up seeing of larry in the backstage hahahahaha but it’s real, too much real 

Keep reading

With Me

Will lingered in the hallway, watching the firelight lick over Hannibal’s arms, his face, the book in his hands. He made no motion, did not go to him and sit beside him on the sofa. He stood, breath held tight, wrestling with himself. He wanted to go sit there, but-

“Will,” Hannibal’s eyes looked up, then flicked towards him, turning his head to find him in the doorway, “come, sit down.”

And he’d been trying so hard to avoid detection, standing down wind and everything. Still, Hannibal had invited him, no point resisting now. He stepped forward gingerly, making his way consciously into the room. Here came the tricky part.

There were many seats to choose from, a sturdy rocking chair, a winged arm chair with its own ottoman, and the sofa, of course. Without looking too deliberate, too tense, without warning Hannibal, he hoped, he measured his steps and sat down next to Hannibal. He sighed with the cushions, making himself lean back in the posture of relaxation and stared into the heart of the fire, unblinking. He felt Hannibal start, pause, felt his eyes skip over the page, onto him, then back, afraid of being noticed for his watching.

“What’re you reading?” Will asked when he was sure Hannibal had read the page fifty times but not taken in a word of it.

Hannibal’s fingers hesitated over the page, trying to read for him. “The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám,” he let the pages fall open towards Will, “In translation, unfortunately. I plan to learn Persian to read it properly.”

“All that for a book of poetry?” Will mused, tilting his head back.

“It is beautiful,” Hannibal explained, “and deserves to be understood in its native tongue.”

Will nodded thoughtfully, “Well, that’s one project for the future.” He winced; they hadn’t discussed the future yet. At all.

“Yes…” Hannibal hesitated, feeling the elephant in the room, “if I find myself with enough time on my hands to-” He silenced abruptly as Will’s arm came down around his shoulders.

Will gulped, feeling like a high schooler on his first date, all stilted movements and anxious energy. Keep calm, relax; it wasn’t as though they weren’t both mature adults who had done this a million times before with other consenting adults. There should be no problem, no awkwardness, and yet… his heart beat in his throat like a bird thrashing at its cage.

Cautiously, Will stroked his thumb against Hannibal’s shoulder, almost to remind himself it was there, real and solid. Hannibal jumped, nearly dropping his book, “Will, your arm-” he fumbled, trying to turn to Will without turning in to Will and finding the proximity made this almost impossible. To look him in the eye he’d have to get closer.

“I’m nearly healed,” Will swallowed, his voice sounding high and foreign, “besides I should be stretching it anyway, so I’m not so sore. So the muscles… heal the… the way they’re supposed to.” He tried not to watch Hannibal, curving into him, pressing against him. He tried to focus on the fire as Hannibal gave in to the position Will had put them in with the softest sigh. It couldn’t be done.

Hannibal turned his head to reply and found his cheek brushing against Will’s shoulder. His eyes closed instantly, his lungs involuntarily inhaling. Will felt his bicep tense with nerves, there was a painful yank at the still closing wound, but he gave no sign of pain, transfixed on Hannibal.

“Physical therapy,” Hannibal returned abruptly, lifting his cheek, voice rough and low, “will be the hardest part of the healing process. It will be… lengthy and very painful for some time.” He licked his lips, trying to open his eyes all the way and failing, “You should still be resting.”

“I can sit here.” Will felt his hand come around Hannibal’s shoulder, palm flat against his arm. His body decided before he did that he wanted Hannibal closer.

“Could we… just… come here,” he mumbled, squeezing Hannibal to him with one long pull.

Hannibal’s last restraints broke. Before Will knew it he felt arms wrapped around him and a face pressed into his collar. Stunned, he put both arms around Hannibal and held him. Hannibal fit into him like a warm, heavy blanket, pressing against him everywhere he felt lonely. Though he’d been alone, he’d never felt lonely… until Hannibal. Only made sense that being with Hannibal could soothe that ache, maybe the only thing that might.

Hannibal’s hands skirted the edges of his bandages, wary of pressing too much, of being too much. Yet, he held tight, squirmed half into Will’s lap, as close as he could possibly get. Will could feel his heart beat, a skittering patter in reckless time, and he was sure Hannibal had no idea Will knew about it. The moment reeked of desperation, and yet… his arm curled tighter around Hannibal. And yet he pressed closer and yearned to feel Hannibal melt against him, melt completely.

Hannibal gave, he shuddered, he kept perfectly silent, but he shook like a leaf. Will held him close and never once thought about letting go. Hannibal gave so beautifully, he pushed and melted and succumbed so perfectly in his arms. This… this was nice. It was actually… really nice, holding Hannibal. He hadn’t expected that.

Will let his head fall against Hannibal’s, let himself breathe in his hair, press skin to skin, rest together like this. He listened to Hannibal breathe and slowly their breaths fell together. He lost track of time and was on the point of sleep when Hannibal murmured something in his ear.


“The fire’s all but gone, we should go to bed.”

The words struck a bell and cracked Will’s eyes open. He was still holding onto Hannibal, smushed together in one corner of the couch. “N-No, don’t go,” his voice croaked, groggy. The implications of it didn’t register immediately, too tired to remember to care too little.

Hannibal paused. “I won’t. But wait here, I’ll get some blankets.” His legs hit the floor and he slowly rose, untangling himself from Will’s arms with unfair grace. Will whimpered, freezing where his Hannibal blanket had been. He closed his eyes and curled onto the sofa completely.

Hannibal returned. He knew he returned because he felt warm again, he felt welcome pressure and weight on the sofa, covering him, slipping up beside him and into his waiting arms. Will’s lips lifted, pleased to be embracing Hannibal once again.

“You’ll regret sleeping like this in the morning,” Hannibal muttered into his chest.

“Won’t,” Will grumbled, one hand stroking idly at Hannibal’s back.

“We could sleep on the bed… still together.”

Will heard the request in his pause. His arms tightened, “Too tired. Drag me to bed tomorrow.” And he hunkered down, pulled Hannibal close, and silenced him for the night with a kiss.