#[ Thank you!!!!!!! ]

[datcravat]

god's worst mistake and precious angel baby <3

[lunaticpebble]

Love your work! Can you maybe do springtrap?

Boo :)

[heraxic]

Your wintersfield, especially your Rose and Eve bring me so much life 😭😭😭 thank you

my god theres two of them,,

[mistressneo]

mystery of lack, stabbing stars through my back;

forwards, beckon, rebound,

forwards, beckon, rebound.

[kvothes]

spirk kiss on a scar 👀 bonus points if it’s the scar on jim’s chest from amok time 👀

The door to his quarters has barely closed behind them when Spock says, “I must apologize, and beg your forgiveness.” 

It’s perverse to think of a Vulcan begging for anything. “You don’t, Spock, really,” Jim says gently. He stands with his arms loosely crossed, watching his first officer. 

Spock is not to be placated. “I would never have requested your presence if I had known it would endanger you,” he says. This is the downside of starship duty: they had to finish out their shift on the bridge before they could speak of the day’s events. Jim has been holding his tongue for hours. So, it would seem, has Spock. 

“I’m glad I was there,” Jim insists. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to go through it alone.” Spock turns his face away. Jim understands suddenly: Spock was humiliated today. He was declared an unfit mate in front of a Vulcan priestess. He became a wrathful thing in front of his captain. His pride, if he has such a thing, has been annihilated. “My friend,” Jim says quietly. “What can I do?”

“I hardly remember it,” Spock confesses. “When I emerged from the fever, I had the ahn-woon about your neck. I assumed this had killed you. But you had more wounds.” One of his hands drifts up to his own chest. “To harm one’s captain is a grave offense.”

“Bones fixed me up all right,” Jim says, and he’s exhausted and wired and desperate to fix the look on Spock’s face enough to do a stupid thing: he pulls his gold command tunic and his black undershirt up and over his head. He drops them to the floor. He lifts his chin and he stares at Spock with his chest bared.

Spock is green-flushed and awkward. His eyes dart to Jim’s chest and away. Dermal regenerators can work miracles, but some healing can only happen in stages. Jim has a white scar across the span of his chest. It looks like an old wound. It is clean and thin. Jim reaches up and touches his own sternum. “Bones kissed it better, see?” he says, aiming for levity.

Spock’s expression changes into something he can’t recognize. “The doctor kissed your wound?”

“No, he—” Jim laughs, he can’t help it. “It’s a saying, Spock. You kiss something that hurts to make it feel better. A gesture of care. Mostly for Terran children.”

Spock takes a step toward Jim. Then another. “I see,” he says. Another step. He is toe-to-toe with his captain. “You were valiant enough to enter a Vulcan ritual,” he says, and his voice is a low rumble. “Permit me this human idiom.” And he stoops, and tilts his head, and kisses Jim at the very center of the scar.

Jim takes a step back out of sheer surprise. Spock steps away and straightens. They regard each other. “You would be within your rights to have me court martialed,” Spock says.

Does he mean for the events on Vulcan, or the kiss? “That’s not going to happen,” Jim says firmly. “I have no reproach for your behavior.” He can double-speak with the best of them.

Spock looks him over. “Captain,” he says finally, inclining his head. “I should leave you to your rest.”

“As long as your get some yourself, Mr. Spock,” Jim says, dismissing his first with a nod. Their eyes catch again. Catch, and hold. A beat passes. Jim can feel his own pulse in his neck. He wants to reach for Spock. With his eyes, he dares Spock to move first. To come to him, or turn away. The beat lengthens. Spock’s eyebrows lower. He takes a single step.

[imposterogers]

Important image of Eddie Brock I felt you should see

he's perfect

[anticidic]

Many a moons we have spoken,

Stories told with our emotions,

Passing glances and sunshine eyes,

Tell me the thoughts you picturize?

"Every song, every sunset, it all just reminds me of you."

“You and me. Together.”

He was young and it was summer when they were down by the water, hand-in-hand. Dazai looked distant, casting his gaze out to the lonely sea with such longing that it smelled strongly of salt and felt like the seaweed slime washing ashore. Chuuya got down on one knee and cupped his hands around sand. Warm. The grains slipped from between his fingers the same way opportunities and the concept of them slipped from their future. The past. The present. And the future. Infinite possibilities condensed into a single moment beneath the sun with a flock of seagulls circling above, searching for a place to roost. The waters lapped at their feet and soaked their toes.

He held Dazai's hand a little tighter. Because if he didn't, Dazai might drift out to sea and be lost like all the other sunken ruins and forgotten treasures down, down at the bottom of the ocean. The way Dazai looked at him and the way Dazai felt—felt so right and looked positively brimming with adoration by evening but by day poisoned with envy—Chuuya ached. Envy for what he couldn't be, but it mattered not to Chuuya. He cared not for what Dazai could never be. He loved what was.

Then, he caught a whiff of cinnamon: reminding him of some bygone spring when they took a dive. Chuuya surfaced first with a gasp, sucking breath into his lungs and coughing out water. To his left, nothing. To his right, bubbles on the surface. A reflection of messy brown curls. Then a hand on his ankle.

It pulled him down under.

Chuuya fought to keep his eyes open underwater, but the salt stung. Almost too much. Dazai held a finger to his mouth. Be quiet. If he could speak. And then a playful smile with hidden intent played on his lips and Chuuya understood.

When they resurfaced, they heard the faraway calling of Chuuya's parents. The king and queen. Wanting their prince back at home. Safe and sound. Where he belonged and where Dazai did not and never would. Dazai was a worker at the end of the day, in suit and tie with tray in hand going around asking members of royal families the same, persistent question: "Refreshments?"

The sun tickled his cheeks with a pleasant warmth. This was their little secret, after all. The same secret they planted and protected from the snow and flooding rains. The secret that blossomed and became soft as rose petals and embraced them in longing. The longing smelled of apricot among the reeds. Of dozens of little fireflies half past dusk. And they were gazing up at a starless sky on a hill with the grass beneath them, bodies touching.

“Chuuya!”

This time, his father called. They always called for him, but never for Dazai.

At the end of the day, Chuuya and Dazai were one. Two entwined souls torn apart by day that always found their way back to one another after sunset.

Dazai was the world by day. Needed. With great expectations upon his shoulders that he sometimes tired of them all. But he lived for watering the garden beneath Chuuya's balcony if only to listen in on the prince humming the quietest melody whisked away on the wind.

By night, he became nothing. An exhaled afterthought once the king and queen put their heads on their pillows and the lights went out.

And by night, he became Chuuya’s everything.

“Forever?”

Home. There was a time when Chuuya wouldn't question that word. Home was here, where his mother and father were. But now? Everything was different. Draped in absence, void, memories of the past. He would never see his mother again fixing her hair at the dressing table. No one browsing old books in father's study. And in the hallways, there was only the spirit of the carefree child who now tried to find himself in a new reality.

“And ever. And ever.”

[citrusdevill]

OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOUR ART AND I LOVE JUSTIN X NOA OH MY GODHSHS

they could've been so cool... if fresh tv weren't COWARDS!!

[mod2amaryllis]

pregnart? pregonate?/ pergenat? praganant? pregananant? congratulations!

yippee!!!

[arecaceae175]

Hello!

Goodbye <3

!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SKY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ITS SKY!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

This is so cute!!!!!!!!!!! It’s amazing how you made him so cute with so few lines!!! I love the round face, and the little heart above his hair, and his eyes look so sweet and happy!!!! He’s so beautiful!!!!!

THANK YOU FOR SHARING THIS LITTLE GIFT!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HIM!!!!!!!!!

[goldencuffs]

"Condoms don't exist in this universe bc Laurent deserves to be bred" you're truly so fucking real for that one. Thanks for feeding us a delicious meal again

i speak for the people!!!!!!

[leonardcohenofficial]

12. if you could hear any album performed live in its entirety, which would it be?

presuming i could travel time and space back to 1983 i would love to have seen the stop making sense talking heads tour i remain eternally jealous of anyone who got to see them perform all those songs live

[ask-the-queen-beelzebub]

OMG! 50 FOLLOWERS?! THANK YOUUUUUU!

"Shout outs to the first ever followers!"

Wha- okay.

@fattocatto-wizard @voxtechsmells @queen-of-vees @wrencatcatcat @trainbot20 @h3llsr1ngm4st3r

[heraxic]

your art is so good is like a tornado who took me to a strange land with talking animals and witches

im stealing you away anon

[muzzlemouths]

Hiiii I've been following you for awhile and I finally got the space and time to read DFtR and OOOOOOOOOOOOO it's so good I'm captivated :) the little hints here and there and everythint that's been revealed .. im so curious as to what all we don't know and I love the interactiveness of it all. Your writing is incredible and beautifully visceral <3

SNIFFLES. I'M GLAD YOU'RE ENJOING IT