#Walls Need Love

[hinamie]

post-graduation trip airport looks

[tediousmalcontentt]

my favorite scene in all of literature is when Neil Josten wakes up in Columbia after being drugged, hurls an alarm clock at Aaron, dumps his water on the floor and throws the cup at Aaron, stuff his clothes down the toilet and squeezes out through the window, has the foresight to call Matt from a pay phone to protect his shit, hitch hikes back to campus, eyes back to brown?? shows up on Wymack’s door like 😜 and reveals he could speak German the whole time?? CHARACTER OF ALL TIME, that is a protagonist who knows how MOVE THE MFING PLOT ALONG

[kitamars]

hhhnhhghgjjghgugujgutuutghn piskin……..

[bberetd]

PIGTAIL DAISY ACQUIRED!!!

[isatartdump]

Slides in with my sifloop since I didn't draw anything else that I am willing to share (gatekeeping my isa and odile drawings forever)

And these stupid little things

[noodles-and-tea]

Yooo! Who's your favourite Over the Garden Wall caracter? And who is the easiest to draw? You are so talented, by the way, sometimes I just look at your art and... Look. Nothing else, just stare at the screen. Because they are just so ✨beautiful✨

Wirt for both!!!

[osamucide]

NSFW—MDNI

boyfriend!Toji who swears he’s out of the game. he’s done the thing, got married and had a kid—when he starts dating you he promises himself it’s for companionship purposes only. he’s a lonely old man; he wants someone to fuck on, someone to kiss at night, someone to fill a certain void he’s got trouble placing let alone admitting to himself. you make him feel young and hot—the way your fingers creep up the faint trail of hair on his toned stomach, the way you lick his pecs and suck on his nipples and draw sounds out of him he’s not sure he’s ever heard before; you beg to ride his toned abs, beg to hump his muscular thigh, beg to squeeze his big ol’ tittes because the more of him to love, the better. not soon enough, it seems, it’s you begging him to fuck his fat load into you with his even fatter cock—you’ve got your hands on his abdomen, his hips, his chest, not pushing him away but pulling him ever closer, wanting to feel him, more, more, more; you want as much of him as you can get.

only when he’s fiancé!Toji does he really realize what you’re doing—you’ve done some sort of witchcraft on him. you’ve had to. no matter how much he hits the gym, he’s filling out in ways he never thought he would. you notice, too—but it doesn’t seem to bother you. quite the opposite, actually. when he turns to the side in the mirror, analyzing his gut—all the beer must finally be catching up to him, or maybe it’s your cooking—you just wrap yourself around him and dig your fingers into the layer of plush forming around his waist. the pretty little rock he put on your finger glints in the mirror and steals his attention for a second until you’re burying your face in his shoulder, your hands dancing beneath the waistline of his sweatpants—beneath his tummy—to tease the thick bush you insisted he stop grooming so vigilantly because you don’t mind, you had said with a hint of something else behind your coy smile. you hum as you take in his smell, grin as his cock twitches to life between your fingers, laugh a little when his back arches the slightest bit into you.

husband!Toji’s aware of what you’ve done, but he loves you too damn much to care. all of his musculature is soft and full, no longer hard and sinewy, and he’s never clean-shaven. you even implored him to let the tuft of hair on his chest—the one he was so unsure about—sprawl across his (now squishy) pecs and you just bask in him. you take your time with your husband—you bite the stretch marks on his biceps from his years of training, now cracking further, prettier, pinker under your hand. you grab on his lovehandles while you ride him—there’s far more room to dig your signature in with your nails after you’ve fed him so well. you bury your nose in the thick happy trail on his cute, round stomach before you suck him, seemingly worshipping every hair on his pelvis prior to taking him in your mouth. his fat balls seem bigger, saggier—you love fitting your lips around them, hearing him croon and call you dollface. his thighs, still strong but fluffier with both hair and chub, squeeze your head so lovingly when you go down on him; you squeeze them back with just as much adoration.

it’s no wonder Toji let you pull him off the bench. not only does he still feel young and hot, despite everything he thought would go out the window the second you started making him pasta in exchange for your orgasms and begging him to stay home and cuddle instead of going to hit arms—he feels okay with getting old, because you still think he’s the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on as long as you’ve got all of him to love.

[queerdraws]

projecting on luffy again. get bited.

[dadvans]

i just love that this show was like "we will not leave it up to the imagination that these two had playful, aggressive, stupid into each other sex that was so good it made them both look stupid"

[bklily]

Something about the history book on the shelf.

[pipfrankenstein]

hi i’m coming out as a huge frankenstein nerd. i love them more than my own family

[nouverx]

A very specific idea/scenario I have about Alastor's sleeping habits

He barely even sleeps in the first place. He sleeps like only a few hours a week, in one go. He locks himself up in his room once a week, sleeps for 4 hours straight and that's it. And since he doesn't sleep much, each time he does he falls into a deep slumber and it's absolutely impossible to wake him up he's straight up passed out until he gets fully recharged.

He does this because the idea of being in a vulnerable position where anyone could do anything to him while he's completely defenseless is too unsettling for him, so he sleeps as little as he can and always makes sure he's locked up first, away from everyone else's eyes.

HOWEVER, one time he's playing cards with the rest of the hotel, and because he got unconsciously so comfortable around them, he accidently falls asleep on the couch during the game. Everyone is shocked because they didn't even know he actually needed to sleep (they always hear him walk around the hotel humming at night like an absolute creep so they just all collectively assumed he didn't need to sleep).

Charlie panicks a little because nothing seems to wake him up, but he's still breathing and seems fine, eventually they all just let him sleep there and keep on going with their card games since the noise doesn't seem to bother him. Charlie even put a blanket on him, and Angel initially wants to draw something on his face as a prank but in the end everyone agrees not to try anything like this, because who knows how the radio demon would react,,, could be dangerous.

A few hours later Alastor finally wakes up, immediately understands what happened and plays it cool like "Oh dear, looks like I passed out, too bad I couldn't finish the game :) oopsie" but internally he's SCREAMING

EDIT: greykolla was faster than me and made a comic about it it's so so good 😭 crying

[aria-greenhoodie]

I fucking HATE them.

Click for Quality!

[secriden]

It’s the way that Fadel was able to be unconscious and vulnerable like this -- with his waist half pinned by one of Style's thighs as his other leg is likely tangled with Fadel's under the blankets -- in an unfamiliar space and showed absolutely no evidence of being troubled or startled or fearful in the situation.

It’s the way that before he even blinks himself into semi-coherent consciousness, Fadel is already running his hand gently up and down Style's calf and knee, touching him in a way that shows such thoughtless familiarity and easy comfort with the warmth of Style's skin.

It’s the way that Fadel processes whose bed he's in, the fact that he stayed the night (and all the implications of that choice), and calls his name (for the first time!!!) with zero evidence of any internal conflict about the situation.

This is a man who we know locks his own bedroom door to keep everyone and anyone out, including his own baby brother. A man who appears to attend a support group with regimented regularity, but who we have yet to see actually say anything at said group. A trained assassin, a meticulous planner, and someone given to caution and suspicion before just about anything else. Someone who has spent years operating outside the law and successfully evaded detection because, in part, of his ability to see the warning signs and get himself out of dangerous situations before they escalate.

Only he missed the warning signs this time (because they weren't actually there) and when Style said "One day, I'll be your 100%," neither of them understood that those words were already true. Because the way Fadel woke up that morning -- half underneath the spread of Style's body and utterly content -- told us that Fadel's heart was already completely won.

Which is why Fadel is left with nothing but tears and an aching heart in this moment. Because Style is already behind his walls, already part of the very fabric of his soul, and to unleash his anger on Style now would be the same as plunging a knife into his very own chest.

[erros429]

OHHH MY GOD THEIR ANGEL WINGS LOOK LIKE BROKEN HEARTS WHAT THE FUUUCK

[sainz100]

carbono 🩵🩵💫