#and it's all so bittersweet

[mercymaker]

✶ 𝐇 𝐀 𝐋 𝐒 𝐈 𝐍 & 𝐌 𝐀 𝐋 𝐄 𝐀 𝐍 𝐄

he brought something softer, sweeter out of her—the twinkling remnants of a person she was, perhaps, supposed to be. not a drow raised by a lolth-sworn spy—ever-scheming, trusting no one—but a dark elf who had a place on the surface that wasn't hiding deep in the forest.

[donutdrawsthings]

People all over the world are thinking of you!

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

For moment, you are home.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[maplebars]

beyond journey's end

[lotus-pear]

"feels like we could go on for forever this way.." (x)

[batsyart]

so i read the newest update of @somerandomdudelmao‘s incredible apocalyptic series and i’ve been crying ever since-

[letoscrawls]

To honor Akira Toriyama i drew future Trunks aka my first ever crush

[woah-there]

I can't wait for when the Foxes face off with the Trojans in the next season. Kevin and Jean have never played against each other when they were both in peak condition. Sure they must have done scrimmages against each other with the Ravens but they've never played like this- with Jean not being beaten and broken everyday, with Kevin left-handed and finally with his real family, with both of them on their way to becoming whole again. The best offensive and defensive players of Class I Exy.

[ace-and-ranty]

Everyone talking about Ariana's "I hope you're happy", but to be honest, this was the shot that killed me:

You have the "Unlimited" notes playing behind this. Elphaba is off flying in her big superhero cape into the literal sunset. And then we pan down to Glinda.

In this moment, finally, at last, she's got the whole, undivided attention of Mrs. Morrible. She's got everything she ever wanted. And still she turns back, and she looks absolutely miserable. As Elphaba is soaring the skies, Glinda is getting pulled down the darkened stairs.

Already, the regret is starting to set in.

[dirtytransmasc]

I think I need MelVik connecting when Viktor was on his sick bed. they had been amicable before, maybe a little more than that due to their connection through Jayce and her presence around Hextech and such. but they weren't entirely friends. not yet.

and she goes to see him. perhaps she feels a tinge of guilt at assuming the worst about Jayce, or her bleeding heart makes her feel responsible for keeping Jayce out of the lab when Viktor had needed him. maybe Jayce needs to step out for a moment, and she soothes his worry by promising to sit with Viktor. maybe she just wants to be closer to the man that's so painfully important to the one she loves, wants to befriend him, wants to know him, all before it's far too late.

maybe it's a little bit of each.

but she goes to see him. she sits in the chair that Jayce has nearly worn a hole through, and keeps a semi-awkward distance between them, not knowing what is too close and too far.

this man is dying. he is dying and he has accepted that. he looks like a corpse. cold emanates off of him. he is something she doesn't fully understand.

she doesn't know how to approach.

but she does.

she greets softly and speaks softly and hesitates to touch, but rests a hand over Viktor's and feels how cold he is, even as a sickly warmth brews in his bones, leeching the warmth from his skin and the energy from his body.

he seems surprised she's there. it feels out of place. like the song and dance of their dynamic has shifted, and now he needs to relearn the steps. and now this is a dance of two, not three.

she will tell Viktor, in enough detail to be understood and not enough to be awkward, where Jayce was. because it feels right to confess. it's not an apology, but the avoidance of keeping something like a secret from a dying man.

Viktor will probably just nod and say something self deprecating, because what else do you say when your body is already making a joke of itself? before assuring her that Jayce is not his keeper, that she is not to blame, but even that comes off as some twisted attempt at humor. sue him for being sardonic as he lay dying.

but unlike Jayce, who will cringe at the jokes, she will hide a smile behind her fingers, muffling a soft, if not saddened, chuckle in her palm.

Viktor's eyes will light up ever so slightly.

she'll feel awkward once more. should she have laughed? was this playing into a complex? was this right of her?

Viktor will smile weakly.

she'll feel a little less awkward.

she will realize Viktor needs someone to laugh with. that Jayce, bless his soul, cannot be that person for Viktor. his worry has brewed too long. it's too strong.

but maybe a fresh face like Mel's can be there to smile when Jayce cannot. will laugh when Jayce cannot. can make cheeky jokes and pokes and prods.

the three fit together like 3 pieces of 3 broken puzzles. they fit together, not perfectly, but they fit, and create a finished object, even if off kilter her and uneven there. but it's ok, they're making due.

[hinamie]

new official illust of them with puppies healed something in me

[canisalbus]

I've actually been brainstorming the circumstances that Machete could conceivably use to fake his death and run away with Vasco. I was thinking that it would take "divine intervention" levels of luck (as while faking one's death is generally planned in great detail, I almost feel like the opportunity would have to land in Machete's lap for him to consider it.) I'm embarrassed that I didn't think of burning a corpse sooner. Also, he would need to take a new name, which provides a nice symmetry to his story. I wonder if he might choose Sebastian, based on those paintings he and Vasco enjoy so much? (I hope this isn't presumptuous, I'm just very invested in your characters.)

I didn't even consider the need for a name change, you're totally right. I don't know what he'd pick though. Sebastian would make sense, but I've been thinking of the possibility of them getting a cat in modern AU and naming him Sebastian, so that one is kind of taken.

[zipsunz]

universally loved 💐

here's a version with all of the senders labelled!

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy IV

a yandere art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... ->chapter map

IV.

You’re a little alarmed, until the passenger side window rolls down, and you see Professor Wick behind the wheel. He’s dressed for a night out, driving gloves and all, and a wave of desire nearly takes you out at the knees. This man. 

Does he have to look so goddamn edible all the fucking time?

“I thought I recognized you,” he says with a half smile that nearly stops your heart. You wonder if he’s implying that he almost didn’t recognize you, with clothes on. The thought sends an unreasonable spear of longing right through your center. You press your thighs together out of self defence, praying that he will just think that you are cold.

You tilt your head, curious what he’s doing here, even while your heart clamors like a brass band in your chest. “Hi.” 

“Need a ride?” 

“I’m ok.” 

He frowns. “You really shouldn’t be walking around alone this late.” 

You shrug. Despite what the talking heads love to yell about on the news about the rampant violence in the inner city, you’ve never had a problem in your neighborhood before. 

When he sees you’re unmoved he sighs–you’re not sure if at you, or himself. “Humor me?” 

The fact is…you were more unsettled by how much you wanted to jump in his car from the moment he asked. 

“Alright.”

Ensconced in the buttery leather seat, you have to admit it’s a lot warmer inside the Porsche. You look around the interior. It’s an older model, but you can tell, lovingly maintained. “Nice car.” 

“Thanks.” 

You didn’t think professors got paid so well, but maybe he has other sources of income. One has to diversify in today’s economy, you know very well. There’s so much you want to know about him–you’re too shy to ask. 

He works the gears to pull away from the curb, and you feel yourself relax in the cozy atmosphere of the car at night. It’s intimate, but not uncomfortable, even if it feels surreal that he’s here, with you, like you conjured him purely out of the strength of your longing. 

“Big night?” he asks, maybe with a glint of teasing in his dark eyes, because it’s not even yet twelve.

“Hardly,” you laugh. “Just a drink with a friend. You?” 

“Dinner out.” He doesn’t specify if he was alone. Somehow, looking at this man…you doubt it. He’s dressed well, as usual, in a crisp shirt, dress pants, and a long wool overcoat, so handsome you could eat your hands. You think about this, a stupid jealousy stirring inside you that you know you have no right to. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, maybe because you have been quiet, watching the street as you zoom by, trying not to stare at the man beside you. 

“I think so,” you say absently, thinking about how you’re sure now that you invented the sight of him at the bar, and turned down a strapping young man to boot, all because of this silly forbidden longing for your boss you’ve managed to ball up like a tangle of barbed wire inside you. “It’s just…been a weird night.”

He frowns at this, a thunderous expression that makes your heart skip a beat. “Did someone hurt you?” 

It startles you, how quickly he bristles in your defense. You're not used to anyone worrying about you so much. “No, nothing like that,” you quickly assure him. “I’ve just…” You don’t even know how to describe your problem, much less how to tell him in a way that doesn’t make you sound utterly pathetic. “I’ve just felt emptier than usual, is all.” You cannot meet his eyes as you say it, but he nods all the same. 

“I think…I know what you mean.” 

Hardly five minutes go by before you arrive at your apartment building, a blocky old brick structure from the turn of the century. You stare at your hands in your lap, pick at an imaginary pill in your tights. “Thanks for the ride. Do you…want to come inside for a drink or something?” 

You hold your breath in the eternity it takes for him to answer. You feel him look at you, the weight of that heavy dark gaze like a blanket upon your skin. Is it possible, to choke on desire? You feel like your heart has been replaced by an angrily pulsing sea urchin covered in merciless little spines.  

“I do want to,” he finally answers, staring fixedly at his eloquent gloved hands upon the leather wrapped steering wheel. “But I shouldn’t, y/n.” 

You nod, knowing he’s right, heartbroken anyway. You’re so good at doing that to yourself that you should receive a trophy, and you suppose there is an amusing karma in this mirrored situation with young Matthew. 

It sucks, to say the least, to be on this side of rejection. Now all you want is to go hide under your covers–and maybe not emerge for ten years. 

“Ok. See you in class, then.” 

“Goodnight, y/n.” 

He waits until you’ve made it through the security door before he pulls away. You watch with your cheek pressed to the cool glass, as red tail lights disappear into the night with a growl. 

It slips your mind, that you never told him where you live.

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[thelilylav]

He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

(He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother, The Hollies)

My art, The World at Its Beginning (Dustin Pearson), The Tyrant's Tomb (Rick Riordan), The Fall of the House of Usher (Steven Berkoff), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), Leto and her Children (William Henry Rinehart), The Moon Had No Light of its Own (Imaginary Future), My Love Mine All Mine (Mitski), Untitled (Lyra Wren), The Tyrant's Tomb (Rick Riordan), Electra (Sophocles), To Forgive (The Smashing Pumpkins), Unknown, The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), The Sun is Also a Star (Nicola Yoon), Doomed From the Beginning (@/veniennes on tiktok), On learning to write professionally (Interview with Jazmine Hughes by The Creative Independent), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), My art