#with background

[thequillpill]

Wings of fire x Mlp

[fircirrus]

Full Body Illustration Commission + Background Completed ~ 🍓🍰

Melia the Strawberry Deer for Lara on Discord

I haven’t done backgrounds in a hot minute but it was really fun to get back into and try out new things. It’s always a struggle with backgrounds lol I want to keep adding more to fill space, but gotta stop before it gets too cluttered.

[non-compositional]

more motogp pacific rim from this — wasn’t originally planning to do uccio pov but then read the feminine mystique and this 500 word snippet and it was over. my mind was taken over. i have a huge massive weak spot for being compelled by weird codependent relationships.

using this to get my new pairing badge for rpf summer camp (not quite sloppy seconds. hints of only one bed? i wont push it. new pairing for sure!) ~950 words

Valentino is with that boy again. Márquez.

Uccio knows. Knows it by the thrill that’s running through their dual-threaded psyche, shivery with secondhand delight and the familiar pulse of Vale’s hot, fevered hunger.

It’s been a lifetime of this: sharing a body, sharing a mind. A body and a mind are something to wield, during wartime, and Valentino and Uccio have known war for a very long time.

It took forever and not too long at all to get used to the lingering effects of the Drift. The psychosomatic hangover brought on by intertwining two selves into one and then tearing them apart, perfunctory, giving way to the ghost of a bond; the fingerprint-unique impressions left on one another like a claim. A promise. Vale’s eyes on Uccio’s, the brilliant blue sky above the liquid-dark Pacific.

Márquez’s eyes are darker. Deeper. All-consuming, of a creature of the depths. Where the hell did this kid come from, anyway. Crawled out from the Breach like an ungodly 168 cm alien kaiju, probably, come to shore to terrorize the Shatterdome and to shake apart Vale and Uccio’s carefully managed ecosystem. A nightmare unable to be awoken from.

Uccio shifts, sluggish, pulled halfway out of an afternoon nap. The air of their insulated room is tepid. Susceptible to heat. He flips the pillow under his head to get the cool side, ignores the faint suggestion of warmth trying to pool at the base of his spine, throbbing in time with Vale’s quickened heartbeat. He can feel his own flutter to catch up, stuttering in his bared-open chest. The bedsheets – their bedsheets – are twisted around his legs in an impossible arterial tangle. He kicks them off the bunk entirely, surgically imprecise. Presses his eyes shut and tries to sink back into unconsciousness.

The pool of warmth is giving rise to a simmering ocean.

Uccio heaves a sharp sigh of annoyance into the pillow, more awake than not. He exhales, breath hot like a curse, shoves his shorts and underwear down his thighs to wrap a dry hand around himself. He has better, more important things he could be doing right now, like sleeping, Márquez is so needy, and fucking inconsiderate of Vale and Uccio’s time. Bastard. 

He tugs his softish cock once, twice, harsh like Vale likes it. Rolls the reddening tip between the pads of his forefinger and thumb like Vale likes it, pinches and winces in the same breath.

It’s uncomfortable, is what it is. In the same way that stepping into someone else’s skin is uncomfortable, except Uccio steps into Vale’s skin all the time, and Vale into his. For every kaiju alarm that rings, and every Jaeger drop that follows. Comfortingly familiar, then, in its discomfort. Reliable. Valentino likes reliable.

Uccio is reliable. Marc Márquez is not. 

He takes himself fully in one hand, irritation swelling in his gut. Would Márquez even know, without having to be told in so many words, what Vale likes? How he likes his coffee in the morning and in the afternoon, what size cup to use? How he likes his shirts and pants folded after Uccio’s done the laundry, once he’s separated the whites from the colors, and picked out which items need to be air dried after going through a wash cycle in one of the Shatterdome’s communal machines? 

Uccio strips his dick faster with a yawn. He’s beginning to be bored. He looks up at the Valentino-yellow shirt on its hanger across the room, at the large, circular damp spot slowly shrinking at its center. He’d gotten up early to do the wash today – the machines are always full by midday on the weekends. Does Márquez know? About the full washing machines at weekend midday?

Yes, says the version of Valentino who has lived in Uccio’s head since before either of them had ever laid finger on a Pons headset, before the first kaiju had risen from the ocean and dragged Marc Márquez up with it like a brine-born curse, sickeningly salty and sharp on the tongue when you drink him in, irresistible to a drowning man or even a god.

Yes, of course Márquez knows. Marc Márquez knows everything that Valentino knows, and that Uccio knows, too. Márquez knows all of it now: how Valentino likes his cock sucked and his coffee made and his laundry folded. Because they Drifted, Vale and Márquez, they fucking Drifted, and then Valentino went and lost his damn mind. Their mind.

His hips give a sharp thrust without his permission, cock twitching in his tight grip. He’ll regret not using lotion, maybe, later on when Valentino appears back in their doorway from whatever shadowy corner Márquez had lured him into to leer at Uccio, loose-limbed and unchafed, unconcerned in his afterglow.

Vale is coming. A tidal wave of pleasure crests then crashes, flooding through the channel of the ghost Drift in a hot saline flush. Uccio swears and follows at once, a beat behind, spilling over his knuckles and onto the fitted sheet below, unsatisfying and short and not fully his own.

In the emptiness of their shared bunkroom, buried deep in the bowels of their Shatterdome – yes, theirs, because it has been a lifetime of this, Uccio has made sure of it – he wipes his hand with a tissue and slumps back onto the soiled bunk, alone. He yawns again. His solitary heart rate has slowed to a stationary dawdle, no more flutters. The air is a few degrees too warm now after all his moving about. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple.

He’ll get up to change the sheets in a minute.

[the-pantry-of-art]

Fleet [unofficial pl translation: Chyży]

He/Him Gay. Age 6,75 yrs (start of AT)- 7,5 yrs (end of AT). The 'runt' of Alpha's first litter.

Affiliations/ ranks: Deep-Woods Pack (family member)

Parents: Alpha, Beta.

Siblings: Bold, Noble, Graceful, Daring, Strident.

Other Notable Kin: Wise (uncle), Omega (grandmother), Brave (nephew), Quick (nephew), Half-Wolf (nephew), 3 unnamed desised pups (niblings).

{cannon description: Fleet is a smaller elder male wolf with brown-and-cream fur.}

Design Info: He's unnusually small in comparison to other members of his family, to the point hes hight hardly reaches Alphas shoulder, and he can still hide under her belly 🤗like a pup would. I also made his design to look kinda fast, if u know what I mean. + his tail markings are like a cross between his mama's and dad's.

(Backstory) & other changes: none

Character summary: He's not an asshole, but still he's pretty mean to Half-Wolf, for nothing really 😔

(New design stats:)

Full character design- #5

Erin Hunter character- #5

Survivors character- #5

______________________________________________________

Bold [unofficial pl translation: Śmiały]

He/Him. Age 6,75 yrs (start of AT)- 7,5 (end of AT). Born first into Alpha's first litter.

Affiliations/ ranks: Deep-Woods Pack (family member)

Parents: Alpha, Beta.

Siblings: Fleet, Noble, Graceful, Daring, Strident.

Other Notable Kin: Wise (uncle), Omega (grandmother), Brave (nephew), Quick (nephew), Half-Wolf (nephew), 3 unnamed desised pups (niblings).

{canon description: Bold is an elder, male wolf with shaggy light gray fur.}

Design Info: He inherited all the Rocky-Slopes Pack genes: he's big, bulky, tall, thick furred, has a really pronaued mane and light 'ghost like' coloration.

(Backstory) & other changes: none

Character summary: I don't have a lot to say about him, other then that he's an asshole.

(New design stats:)

Full character design- #6

Erin Hunter character- #6

Survivors character- #6

[joanie-88]

Big piece with background in process! Stay tuned!

[kritzelhalde]

Let's give smaugust another try!

prompt list by subjectively on youtube

Day 1 Fearful - Threat display

Day 2 Gilded - Lost in the sauce

[pleasedonthurtcjstar]

Makes me wonder...

One of these days I’m gonna actually publish the “funky” stories in my head but you guys better promise not to freak out. Thankies