#Alina Not

[alina-is-hollowing]

everytime i get dysphoria over my height, im quickly reminded of how freaking tall fromsoft women are, which instantly cures my ailment

[elainiisms]

female protagonists will literally go through 30 life altering traumas at the age of 16 and you ppl still have the audacity to call them annoying bc they cry about it and act like teenage girls

[chai-penguin]

On Isolation

[sonokido]

average mirror selfie

[pansy-picnics]

HAPPY TANGLED ANNIVERSARY!!! i didnt have time to add all the characters i wanted to last year so this year i made sure i planned ahead 🫡

ft oc cameos by @heyitsjetstream (nadia, ophelia, ariel) and @/a_tangled_odyssey on insta (opal, rodolphus, faith)

[greensaplinggrace]

I actually like it when ships hurt each other in long lasting and unforgiveable ways. I like it when they leave vicious, glaring scars. I like when they leave traumas. I like when they stab each other and torture each other and ruin each other’s lives and violate every inch of each other’s values. and I like it when they fucking kill each other permanently dead. 

[ithurtswhennn]

Alina LaPorte 🔥🔥

[thecutiecollective]

💙 Alina Alexeevna 🤍, a sweet cutie!

IG: Liinaliiis

[zewarudo]

Vinnegal & Alina Becker

[feminineambrosia]

Happy Fourth of July

[shadowandbone]

[reggieslocket]

[sonokido]

post workout

[realismovisceral]

Alina Lando

by Mavrin

[yawnderu]

I need a soft könig 😔😔

He is like a grizzly, lethal but tender

Despite how insufferably cocky the behemoth of a man can be, there's a single person in the world who gets to see a soft, tender side of him— the sweet little thing who always welcomes him home with a big meal and a wide smile.

His growing exhaustion and aching muscles are almost screaming in agony as his arms wrap around your waist, leaning down to catch you the moment you jump on him for a hug. Your legs wrap around his waist out of pure muscle memory, hundreds of times welcoming him from his long deployments created a routine that none of you is willing to change or drop.

His large hands cascade down your back before grasping the back of your thighs firmly, wanting to give you an extra support despite the way you're clinging to him like a flea, your face finding shelter on the crook of his neck, taking in the smell of sweat, gunpowder, and burnt tobacco that always seems to stick to him even when he showers before coming home, not wanting his pretty wife to smell the gore and dirt on him.

“Oma invited us over for dinner tonight.” His voice is softer, kind. A contrast to the absolute beast he is in the field, a tone reserved only for you, sweetness seeping through his words and actions as his fingers absent-mindedly trace circles on your soft, plush thighs.

“I know. She kept talking about how much she missed her sweet boy.” He may be a killing machine— a human battering ram with enough sins to do penance for a lifetime, yet his wife's teasing words make his blood rapidly rise up to his cheeks, thankful for the mask concealing his features, yet you already know he's flustered by the way his gaze drops to the floor and his shoulders drop, the chaste kiss you plant on his clothed nose making the corners of his lips pull up into a bashful smile.