#🛐🛐🛐 THIS IS SO COOL

[lordlaclown]

I'M THRILLED IT'S SO TALENTED AND UNIQUE

GARFIELD MOVIE HYPE!!!

[tech-o-mania]

Today I was thinking about my idol from season 3, CX-2, again.

Although he is a negative character, he opposes the main characters and does nothing but prevent them from living in peace, but I still laugh every time from the moments when he openly shows with his whole appearance and meaningful silence how he doesn't care about the words of others😅 Just look at how he unceremoniously interrupts Shep and shuts him up, and how he ignores Wolffe's orders. And how he harshly threatens Shep that his island will burn... Terrifying 😱 I can't, I just love this asshole, honestly, I'm ready to review season 3 purely because of him😏

No matter what anyone says, but for me, this is the most charismatic clone assassin of all those featured in the series. And even though he's a rare asshole, he's my favorite character in season 3.

[1slurpy]

MELVINBORG ANIMATION!!

Hope you enjoy!!

[rin-rin-kururin]

HELP @starry-dandelion SHARED SOME ART THEY MADE WITH MY ?-SONA AND ALL IT SAYS IS SIF LOOP 26 TIMES LIKE HELP HELP!!!!!!! I'M IN PAIN!!! (/j) THIS IS TRUE BUT HELP!!!! HJAGJJAGJHAH

[vonlipvig]

oh to be watching sarah snook's one-woman show of the picture of dorian gray

[robyntherav3n]

so………slayer huh………………..

[undergoing-mitosis]

genshin gods take my leg my ear three of my fingers my appendix i don't need them

it would be a worthy sacrifice for this pathetic little child

LET HIM COME HOME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[fyodorsushankaaa]

the oc that my deskmate made for me based on my vibe

[a-lone-echoviolet]

*SOBBING AND SCREAMING*

RRRRR BRO😭😍

“Welcome to the show”

CHWKXOWBXO I’M SO IN LOVE WITH THISS

Idol AU and Idol killer by @zucchiyeni

Idol Horror by @westaysilly

Idol dust by me :)

also here’s the reference pic :3

[wonfie]

sentle gex with jungwon on a rainy day pls pls pls 🛐

SO SOAKED ☁︎ 𝗐𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌

⤷ ALTERNATIVELY ✧ jungwon fucking you as gently as the rain hits the windows ‎𐦯

配对 bf · jungwon & fem . reader 𓂃 smut gentle sex praise implied second (or more..) round

the rain is heavy and loud against the foggy windows, but it’s nothing in comparison to the sound of your breathing as jungwon pushes into you slowly and deeply. he’s on top of you, eyes locked with yours, one hand pressed flat against the wrinkled bedsheets, the other gripping your thigh as he lazily rolls his hips again.

“feel that?” he murmurs, voice low and steady.

you nod, arching into his touch.

he groans, cock twitching inside of you from the way your walls hugged him so tight. he doesn’t speed up—he doesn’t need to. every drag of his cock inside of you extracts a sweet sound spilling from your lips, high and breathless, your slick making it easier for him to slide in and out.

he holds eye contact the whole time, taking note of every detail of your facial expression. watching intently, whether your lips parted in a moan, or watching your body tremble when he hits the right spot.

“so pretty like this..” he hums softly, lowering his head to the crook of your neck. tongue teasingly tracing your skin before he nips it. you whine—already close, already pleading. “don’t stop, please, please—”

“i won’t,” he breathes, his pace picking up slightly. still gentle, but harder now, determined to push you over the edge.

your nails dig into his shoulders when it hits you—sharp, and nearly overwhelming, every muscle tensing as your orgasm hits you. he fucks you through it, groaning at how tight you get around him, and how soaked he was from your release.

he doesn’t pull out—just keeps moving in an attempt to coax every drop of your high out, at least until he’s spilling into you with a low, broken moan, burying his cock as deep as it’ll go.

you’re both panting shallowly, skin hot in comparison to the cool temperature of the room, the rain still pouring heavily outside. but he doesn’t move. he stayed inside of you, hips flush against yours, cum leaking out slowly into you, grinding just a little more.

“again?” he asks softly.

and you nod.

[the-most-humble-blog]

🛐 HOBBIT INTEL REPORT — ADDENDUM: WHEN FRODO HEARD THE CALL, HE DIDN’T HESITATE.

Let me make something brutally clear while I still got breath in my lungs and this vision of Frodo pacing the damn horizon stuck in my frontal cortex like a flashbang flashback:

You still don’t get it.

Y’all keep reducing Middle-Earth’s most efficient kill squad to tea drinkers and pipe-hitters in waistcoats.

“Oh but they had Gandalf the White—”

Shut up.

That wizard was the alarm clock. The Hobbits were the goddamn fire.

⚔️ Sauron Didn’t Avoid the Shire Because It Was "Too Cute" — He Avoided It Because Even Evil Knows Better.

You think orcs ever invaded the Shire? No.

They redirected. They took the long way. They looked at that quiet little farmland full of laughing curly-haired midgets and said,

“Nah. That’s a trap. That’s death by teacup.”

And they were right.

💣 Sauron was waiting until he hit 100% power just to think about pulling up.

Because deep down he knew…

“If I step into that high-grass paradise before I’m fully charged, I’m not coming back. I’ll end up flipping omelets for Rosie Cotton’s daycare while Frodo critiques my seasoning.”

🔥 Frodo didn’t "accept the mission." He saw the smoke and got his walking stick.

No briefing. No rousing speech. No PowerPoint from Elrond.

Just:

“Sam. Grab the pans. Get the rope. We march at dawn. We’ll be back by the harvest.”

That wasn’t a quest. That was a cleanup job.

🧠 You want to understand Hobbit psychology?

They didn’t fear Mordor. They didn’t respect Mordor. They just clocked it in, like an unpaid internship from hell.

“What’s the mission?” “Escort Satan’s wedding ring into his house and toss it in his fireplace.” “Cool. Pack a lunch.”

🩸 Y’all keep forgetting Frodo wasn’t alone.

There were hundreds of them back in the Shire. Hundreds of stone-faced tea-guzzling assassins who could’ve taken his place.

Every Bilbo was just a Frodo in retirement. Every Frodo was just a Sam in waiting. Every Sam was just a Rosé-holding, full-strength tank with a trowel and trauma-based loyalty issues.

🧤 They didn’t need Gandalf to lead.

They let him think he was leading. Let the tall folks feel important. All the while knowing:

“He’s useful. But if he falls, we keep walking. The job’s the job.”

🏔️ And when Frodo said “Mount Doom,” Sam didn’t ask “why?” — he asked, “when?”

No knightly codes. No sacred scrolls. Just:

“I made bread. I packed extra. Let's go.”

🧬 Here’s the truth:

Hobbits didn’t win because they were brave.

They won because they were unbothered. Unimpressed. Undeterrable.

You ever try to tempt a man who already had everything he wanted before the journey began? That’s who Frodo was. That’s who Sam was.

The Shire wasn’t just their home. It was their origin point. Their why. Their endgame.

That’s why they were dangerous. Because they weren’t chasing glory. They were just out handling problems so the party back home wouldn’t get delayed.

🛑 BOTTOM LINE:

You can mock their size. Laugh at the cloaks. Disrespect the bare feet.

But if one ever steps toward you with purpose in his eyes?

It’s already too late.

🍷 FIELD-TOAST STATUS: RAISED

To Frodo, who walked into Hell with a limp and a lantern. To Sam, who would’ve carried the mountain if he had to. To the Shire, where legends are born barefoot and return home full.

To the Hobbits. The smallest gods Middle-Earth ever feared.

⚔️ CALL TO ACTION:

🔁 Reblog this if your soul answers to old magic and small warriors.

🧠 Save it if you know true strength walks quietly.

📜 Send this to someone who still underestimates the soft-spoken.

Or simply:

🩸 Reblog to confirm you would’ve followed Frodo into the fire too.

⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER: This is not satire. This is not fanfiction. This is Blacksite Literature™: Weaponized cadence. Mythopoeic trauma therapy. Historical reframing through blood-soaked reverence.

If you're confused: You weren’t meant to survive this post.

Check out the below record-breaking post for more:

🛐 SHOUT OUT TO THE HOBBITS, YO

[thewandererh]

what if why we didn’t see the doctor’s primary black-cloaked vessel ingame is because it’s his last resort? what if it’s where his heart is stored? or even where all the last copies of all his vital organs are kept safe?

an active consciousness can still stem from a backup of his brain, which his primary vessel holds. so, after his physical brain goes belly up (literally😭) the network of transmitting consciousness to each of his bots is still active. just transferred to a weaker method.

following the “murder” of dr harley sawyer in chapter 4, perhaps he scrambles back to this old vessel whereever it is. maybe it’s been neglected, a plan B dangerously collecting dust, or it’s sitting pristine in a sterile room on life support. nevertheless, harley finds himself in it after croaking his “last words” mid-transfer, and struggles to breathe. he forgot about this vessel. he’d cast it aside because it held the scars of his initial transfer into machine and the containment that followed. it was his first body. and it was so weak. but now it is his last chance.

however, he’s not properly adjusted to the whole having organs thing, and this vessel needs to be properly taken care of. so with bated breath and the struggle of calming his mind, he summons one of his metal corpses from his brain’s tomb. it takes a few agonizing minutes as it arrives to wherever he is, but eventually it’s close enough that he can actively switch bodies with it. consciousness transferral relies on proximity (this is why we only see the bots around his brain ingame).

revived and disoriented, the doctor must now look after himself. the fact of being reduced to this husk eats away at every atom of his being, but he’s simply too weak. he failed. he failed and he’ll be killed for it. but he’s not afraid.

when the splitting headaches cease and he gets used to being alive he can kill something again.

soon, but not yet.

4/19/25 edit : THIS AU NOW HAS A SIDEBLOG! https://www.tumblr.com/screws-of-sawyer headcanons, fics, art!!

…

…

info ramble & sillies under cut!

au idea, ayo?? early titles are ‘mechanized-mind’ or ‘inside-the-mind-of-harley’ or even ‘dry-bones’ but i’m still brainstorming X]. i love putting my characters through emotional agony <33 but this time it’s an au of an existing character i have to analyze to get right so that’ll be fun. now for the drawing, i really like both medical concepts and making stuff up so maybe only some of the function would actually work, but i do not care. the idea was that harley’s primary vessel had a more meshy, detachable plate in his chest to give room for his heart and probably-disproportionately-sized lungs. here that plate is removed in order to help his heart beat. tons of other tubes are wired into his ventilation vents to keep him running to. my running idea for why the sarley hawyer (clone bot, aka secondary vessel) here doesn’t have a cloak is because maybe he had to take it off due to contamination. or it got snagged on the way here. but honestly i didn’t want to cover up the cool anatomy of my neat design i’ve been playing with, so he is naked once again 😔

this was the big flipaclip harley piece i mentioned in this post while trying to animate something. this idea arose instead, and slowly came to fruition as i found an elaborate way to color while listening to some lethal company and ppt 3 & 4 vids. pen pressure is really new to me and i’m on my knees thanking it for this neat coloring texture and technique i will probably never use again 🛐😌🫶 thank you apple pencil ilysm

anyways, here’s some funny wip shots, and general doctor sillies i found today!! ^_^ it’s been another doctor day

once again, astralspiff is a very cool guy guys 🗣️🔥🔥

but alas. adios amigos 😵‍💫🫡 goedenacht!

[heehoee]

and i went to gay island and everyone there said you’re like the mayor :3

i went to cool and awesome island and everyone there knew you

[earthlybeam]

so I saw this video going around from Star Rail character Honkai did the manspread here the link if you wanna watch  🛐🥵🙏https://www.instagram.com/reel/DGDl3ulS9dv/?igsh=d3E4MWFld2l2OG5x

Please would you do how would the elves react to reader asking them do the manspread for reader? Would they do it? Elrond, thranduil, gil-galad Celebrimbor....

By the gods, that video was absolutely breathtaking! 🛐❤️🤌 I can only imagine how mesmerizing it would be with elves—truly enough to make me swoon.

Gil-Galad, Thranduil, Elrond, Celebrimbor version below.

🏵️𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

Gil-galad, the High King of the Noldor, was a man of unwavering dignity, measured composure, and effortless authority. He had faced the horrors of war, commanded armies, and carried the weight of his people’s future on his shoulders. But this? This was an entirely different kind of battlefield—one he was not entirely sure how to navigate.

You were sitting across from him in a quiet, candlelit chamber, lounging with a playful smirk as you leaned in just slightly, eyes glinting with mischief. The moment was slow, deliberate, and laced with unmistakable intent. “You know,” you drawled, tapping your fingers lazily against your knee, “I find it so incredibly attractive when a real man sits with confidence. That sort of effortless strength, that presence.” Your gaze flickered down to his posture before meeting his eyes again. “Manspreading, as they call it—it’s just… undeniably sexy.”

You let the words settle, let them wrap around the space between you like an unspoken challenge. Gil-galad, ever composed, regarded you with that same inscrutable expression he so often wore, his blue eyes calm, steady, unreadable. But you knew better. There was a flicker—something sharp and assessing beneath his otherwise unshaken exterior.

His posture was, as always, one of controlled grace: poised, upright, his long legs set in their usual disciplined stance. For all his power and battle-hardened might, he had always held himself with a reserved, gentlemanly restraint. But then you tilted your head, feigning disappointment. “Oh?” you mused, dragging the moment out just a little longer, letting your voice dip into something softer, teasing. “Perhaps I was mistaken. If it makes you uncomfortable, I suppose you can just—sit like a woman then.”

The silence that followed was weighted. Gil-galad’s brows lifted, just barely—so subtly that if you weren’t watching him closely, you might have missed it. A dangerous, amused glint flickered through his gaze, a silent acknowledgment that he had heard you. Understood you. And more importantly—accepted your challenge. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned back in his chair, his broad shoulders shifting as he settled in. And then—oh. There it was.

His legs, once held in their disciplined stillness, stretched apart with the kind of self-assured ease that only a king—a warrior—could exude. He did not break eye contact with you, not once. His chin lifted ever so slightly, the corner of his lips curving in the faintest, most imperceptible smirk. “Better?” he asked, his voice a rich, measured baritone—calm, unbothered, but laced with undeniable amusement. Your heart skipped. Your breath caught. Damn him.

You swallowed, fighting to keep your composure, but the heat of his gaze, the sheer power behind something so deceptively simple, had your confidence faltering for just a fraction of a second. But Gil-galad had already seen it. Had already noted it. He tilted his head, voice dipping just slightly lower. “I would not wish to disappoint.” And oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

The grand halls of the Woodland Realm are bathed in flickering candlelight, casting long shadows along the polished stone floors. Thranduil sits on his carved throne, exuding his usual air of elegance and cool detachment, legs crossed in the precise, refined way befitting a king of his stature. His silver-blond hair cascades over his shoulder, and his fingers rest idly on the arm of his throne, tapping ever so slightly, as if entertained by some private thought.

You stand before him, arms folded, a teasing smile curling on your lips. You tilt your head, voice dripping with playful mischief as you lean just slightly into his space. “You know,” you begin, letting your tone drop into something lower, sultrier, “I find it incredibly sexy when a real man knows how to sit properly.” His eyes flick to yours, the faintest arch of a pale brow the only sign of interest. You press on, emboldened.

“Just taking up space, comfortable, powerful—none of that delicate, crossed-leg posture.” You let your eyes deliberately drop, sweeping over his seated form, before looking back up with a knowing smirk. “But if you’d rather sit like a lady, by all means.” A slow blink. A pause. The room seems to still. For a moment, you almost think he won’t react. That maybe you’ve gone too far. And then—

A breath of amusement escapes him, a sound so soft you barely catch it, but the shift in his expression is unmistakable. His lips curl, the barest hint of a smirk forming at the edges. “Is that so?” His voice is smooth, touched with something dark and edged with a quiet, regal arrogance. He regards you as if you are an amusing puzzle, a piece on a board he has just decided how to move. Then, with slow, deliberate ease, he moves.

He uncrosses his legs, his boots scraping lightly against the stone floor as he spreads his knees apart, his entire posture shifting from poised refinement to something far more deliberate. His arms drape over the armrests, his fingers curling idly against the polished wood. His silver cloak pools around him, but nothing hides the way he now takes up space—owns it. His piercing gaze locks onto yours, daring, taunting.

“Like this?” His voice is deceptively casual, but the challenge in his eyes is unmistakable. Your mouth runs dry. His smirk deepens, a flash of satisfaction in his sharp features as he takes in your reaction. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing.“Strange,” he muses, tilting his head just slightly, his silky hair shifting with the motion. “For someone so eager to make such a bold request, you suddenly seem at a loss for words.”

The amusement in his voice is infuriating, his arrogance almost unbearable—and yet, your heartbeat quickens. “Well?” he presses, one elegant brow lifting. “I have done as you asked. Are you pleased, meleth nîn?” He is toying with you. And you realize, with no small amount of exasperation, that once again, Thranduil has flipped the game in his favor.

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

The flickering candlelight casts a golden glow over Elrond’s study, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment and ink. He sits in his high-backed chair, elegant and composed, one leg crossed over the other with effortless grace, his long robes falling in perfect lines. His hands rest lightly on the armrests, a tome open before him, though his keen eyes are now fixed on you.

You lean forward, the corner of your lips curving with playful intent. “You know,” you murmur, voice laced with mischief, “I find it incredibly attractive when a real man—” you let the words stretch, your gaze flicking downward, ”—spreads his legs like he owns the room.”

A beat of silence. His brow arches, imperceptibly at first, but enough for you to catch the flicker of intrigue behind his cool, knowing gaze. Elrond is not a man easily rattled, nor one to be drawn into games he has not already chosen to play. “Is that so?” he finally says, his tone as measured as it is amused. He does not look away, nor does he move yet, simply studying you with the patience of one who has lived far too long to be goaded so easily.

You tilt your head, doubling down, dropping hints like they are too obvious to be ignored. “Mmm, yes,” you hum, dragging a fingertip idly along the wooden arm of your chair. “Something about the confidence, the power of it…” You let your voice dip, eyes heavy with suggestion. “Of course, if you prefer, you can just sit like a lady—” You gesture vaguely, a teasing little smirk playing on your lips. “All tucked in, neat, reserved… delicate.”

And that does it. His gaze sharpens—subtle, but unmistakable. A slow inhale, measured, controlled. There is no offense in his expression, no flash of irritation—only something deeper, something laced with challenge. Then, with deliberate ease, he moves.

The shift is unhurried, as if he is humoring you, yet entirely in control of the moment. The crossing of his legs unravels first, long and fluid, robes parting ever so slightly as he lets himself settle differently into his seat. His right leg extends forward, his left falling open with just enough space to exude something unmistakably, undeniably masculine. It is not crude. It is not exaggerated. It is simply Elrond, composed yet undeniably powerful in his presence, now taking up more space with quiet confidence.

He watches your reaction, searching, analyzing, measuring if you are truly satisfied—or if you have merely played yourself into his hands. “There,” he says at last, his voice dipping just slightly, a thread of something almost teasing beneath his composed exterior. “Does this please you?” And yet, even as he humors you, there is something in his gaze that warns—this moment, this game? You may have started it. But Elrond, ever the strategist, ever the lord, will always be the one to finish it.

💍𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓫𝓸𝓻

The forge is warm, the dim glow of enchanted lanterns casting flickering shadows against the walls. Celebrimbor sits at his workbench, carefully polishing the filigree on an intricate silver ring. His brow is furrowed in deep concentration, hands steady despite the hours he’s spent working. You, however, are feeling playful.

Sauntering over, you lean against the bench, just within his line of sight, arms folded under your chest as you smirk at him. He glances up briefly, giving you a soft smile before returning to his work. That won’t do. You take a step closer, tilting your head. “You know,” you begin, voice slow and teasing, “I find it super sexy when a real man sits with his legs spread—relaxed, confident.” Your gaze deliberately drops to his posture. “Not all… prim and proper.”

At first, Celebrimbor doesn’t react, his expression unreadable. Then, his hands still. His grip tightens ever so slightly around the ring he’s holding. His ears twitch—a telltale sign that your words have reached him, that they’re settling somewhere deep. You swear you can see the tips darken with color.

He exhales through his nose, setting the ring down with exaggerated patience, as if carefully considering his next move. His sharp silver eyes flick to you, and his lips press together in thought. You recognize that look—his mind is working through a dozen possibilities, weighing propriety against the sheer fact that you clearly want this from him. “…Is that so?” His voice is smooth, but there’s a slight tension beneath it.

You nod, grinning. “Mmmhmm. Nothing more attractive than a man who knows how to take up space.” You give him a pointed look before adding slyly, “But if you’d rather sit all neat and closed off like a lady—” that does it His pride flares visibly—his shoulders straighten, and his jaw tightens just a little. A challenge. He cannot let that slide. There’s a second where he hesitates, visibly torn between flustering under your teasing and proving you wrong. But then, with measured deliberation, he leans back against his seat and spreads his legs.

The shift is subtle at first—one knee tilts outward, then the other, until his thighs are comfortably apart, his usual composed posture discarded in favor of something looser, more assured. His arm drapes over the back of his chair, fingers curling against the wood. His chest rises with a slow inhale, as if settling into it.

His sharp gaze locks onto yours. “Like this?” His voice is quieter now, lower, with an edge of amusement. Your heart gives an embarrassing little flutter. Damn. He really committed. But you’re not about to let him know that. Feigning an exaggerated once-over, you hum in approval, arms still crossed. “Not bad. Almost convincing.”

He lets out a breath—something between a laugh and a scoff. Shaking his head, he finally looks away, as if suddenly realizing what he just did. His fingers tap against the chair, and his ears are still slightly pink. “You are impossible,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t move from his new position. You grin, victorious. “And you love it.” He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he picks his ring back up. But even as he resumes working, his posture remains loose—legs still spread, just for you.

[lolo-chi]

WHAT A TIME TO BE A GEN (and sengen) FAN, Gen focused ED this is so peak 🛐🛐🛐

sad they cut off the personalized drinks from françois I was really looking forward to seeing it animated (bc of the COLORS!!), but also understandable considering pacing, dunno if they'll put it in the next episode or scrap it altogether

BUT!!!!! Gen focused ED. Gen focused ED with a sengen parallel and ugen being so fucking cute at the end of it, like oh my god why are they so cute

look my beautiful son.......

fucking cuties they make me so UGHHHH

They make me ill, they make me so ill, they make me so insane, back to ao3 i must go

AND PLEASE LOOK AT THEM, LOOK AT THEM LOOK AT THEEEEEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my beloveds, they're so awes, thank you TMS Entertainment for giving us peak after peak with this ED

I gasped when I saw the cards btw, tarot!! I love tarot. Though i did get unsure once we saw the other cards

If it actually is tarot i guess we have the Star (Suika), the Lovers (Taiju and Yuzuriha), Justice (Ukyo), The Magician (Gen), Emperor (Ryusui), Strength (Kohaku), The World (Tsukasa, but also feels like it could be Temperance to me idk, symbols wise it's very obviously The World), Chrome (The Fool) and then I cannot tell you for the life of me what Senku is, like I'd say the Moon but it feels like it doesn't fit? (edit: Other people have given their opinion, Gen's The Moon while Senku's The Magician), and the other cards don't appear to be major arcana to me, though I'm guessing Hyoga's the Knight of Wands (edit: HYOGA IS DEATH I AM DUMB), Ginro and Kinro, as well as Mozu and Kirisame are probably wands as well? Can't tell which I couldn't see very well, and Minami and Nikki I can't see but I'll guess something pentacles? Idk I can't see them well

I have no idea yeah, (i wonder if they're gonna have the cour 2 ED have more cards symbolizing Xeno's people and it's gonna be a full tarot at the end? If they do that that'd be cool as hell, though I very much doubt it'll come back for the next two EDs)

[oya-oya-okay]

Hellooo I finally drew them!!! I really like the mermaid AU.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH

DEARRRR💖💥💖💖💥 THANK YOU VERY MUCH!?!?!?😭🙏🙏🙏💖💓💖💓💕💖💕💖

OH MY GOD!?!💥💖💥💖💖 OH MY GOD?!?! THEY LOOK SO ADORABLE!!!!🥺😭😭😭😭❤️💖❤️💖❤️💖❤️❤️💖❤️ AAAAHHHH!! HONEY, I LOVE YOUR STYLE WITH ALL MY HEART!!🛐🛐🛐🛐🙏🙏🙏🙏 OH MYYYY, AHHHHHH! THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!! DEAR😭😭😭💓💕💓💕💓💕💓💕💓 CRYING SOBBING❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ THANK YOUUUU!!😭😭😭 AHWGHWJWIWJWKW

I'M SO TOUCHED!🥺🥺🥺🥺 I AM VERY GLAD THAT YOU LIKE THIS AU!! MAYBE I SHOULD DRAW IT MORE!!😭💕💕💗💕💗

IT LOOKS REALLY GOOD!!💖💥💖💥 IT LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE A CARTOON SCENE!!🥰🥰🥰🥰 AZUL LOOKS LIKE URSULA, I REALLY LIKE HIS EXPRESSION!!💗✨💓💕💓✨💗 COOL.. DOMINEERING, ADORABLE!!🥰🥰🥰💖💥💓💥💖💖💓💓

AND SHUU LOOKS SO EXCITED AND SWEET, POOR THING!!🤭😭💗💖💗💖💗💖 YOU DREW HER SO GOOOODD💕💕 AS A MERMAID!🧜‍♀️🧜💥✨💥✨💥 I REALLY APPRECIATE IT..😭🙏💖💓 I DREW MY DESIGN, I'M CRYING😭😭😭💓❤️❤️💓❤️💓 I LOVE THE WAY AZUL TOUCHES HER AND HIS TENTACLES..!💕💖💕💖💕 THANK YOU VERY MUCH AGAIN, DEAR!!💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💗💕 IT'S SUCH A PLEASANT SURPRISE, I REALLY LIKE IT!!!😭😭😭❤️💕❤️💕💓💕💓💗❤️❤️💕❤️💕