#hiii if you read it

[myayayakish]

I'll never get tired of drawing him,,

[comfort-character-central]

Imagine your f/o placing reassuring hands on your shoulders, giving you a kind smile. "I just wanted to tell you that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'd be lost without you."

[zodoods]

drew a scene from @peachcitt’s metamorphosis (ch8) bc it has a death grip on me rn

[jellynotbees]

Deadly Devotion

Hi I had the idea for this in the middle of my Calculus homework and honestly it’s a miracle I managed to finish it before jumping onto Procreate to work on this.

[basketobread]

i just had to reupload an attack like 3 times. my first year of art fight is going really well

[shimmershy]

Kris motivation of the day. Did you guys know you can whip and nae nae yourself out of anything? Well now you know. Keep being poggers out there.

[itsticklishme23]

Happy Friday!! 💗🌸 starting off the day with a sensitive tummy has gotta be a form of good luck somewhere lol or like taking your vitamins 😌

[spinjitsuburst]

oh i wonder what this is

[chirpfinch]

aradia !!

[witchkittymeow]

Would you eat pancake Eugene

[comicdez]

and then he got a school as an apology yay !

[ruvviks]

Following the chilling conclusion of All That's Left's first season, Mac and Layla and their friends find themselves scattered across a divided Los Angeles a year after their successful return to town. Matrix Corp has taken control— "With humanity's best interest in mind"— but with our protagonists' knowledge of Opportunity's destruction and Houston's unexpected fall, they know better than to trust the corporation and its near military-sized security force. Closed district gates separate them from one another and a new threat lurks just outside the city's walls— but resistance is on the rise, and it is only a matter of time before truth comes out. [SEASON ONE HERE]

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @roseeway, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree;

@kanos, @swordcoasts, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf, @strafethesesinners

[official-time-loop-posts]

a time boop

wow you all are so good at being original

Genuinely though… this booping thing? So fun. I love booping my mutuals over and over again {LIKE A TIME LOOP???}. We’ve tried to boop back everyone who boops us (if you got a boop from @raynestormss, that’s us!). We are going to miss this so much on april 2nd.

Thank you all for the time boops :)

[faaun]

we sang in the aeroplane over the sea tgth ☆

[98wingwing]

bringing you a WIP <3

[lordundying]

• WIP WEDNESDAY.

tagged by my beloved @lilywatt for wip day, thank you!! first wip day in a hot minute and i'm sure i've missed tags so i'll get back on the tag train next go-round 🫶

been working on a fantasy romya eldritch fic so! happy spooky szn

“I am going to get another glass of wine,” Varya’s saying to him, yanking him out of the bloody-disgusting murder fantasy his brain had just embarked on. The dark-swathed shape of Ra’s al Ghul is temporarily nudged aside for conversation with a partygoer, offering them only a brief moment of isolation. “Do you want any, darling?”

“Sure,” Roman replies, but makes no move to loosen his embrace. “I could use a drink. Take the annoying old man with you and leave him there, though.”

“Roman.”

“You’re saying my name like you didn’t like my joke. Well, don’t worry—it wasn’t a joke, at all. I’m serious.”

“As am I,” Varya says, two parts amusement and one part exasperation. “Play nicely, please.”

“Why?” The affront bleeds into his voice, nearly a scoff. “You never play nice.”

“I am the nicest player.”

“That isn’t even close to being true.” Roman presses his face into the crook of her neck and sighs, lamenting the idea of releasing her. “You rushed me to the altar only to spend our entire reception running away from me.”

Varya turns in his arms so that she’s facing him fully. Something thrums between them, when she looks at him through curtained lashes; like someone plucking a cello string wrapped in antler velvet, vibrating and rich and muffled, two steps to the right of their existence but no less real. It makes him feel like something inexorable is pulling up on his insides on marionette strings, a pleasant fish-gutting, like he’s going to twist and writhe as he’s made inside-out and it will feel so good.

Lips brushing his with each word, she says, “I would never run from you, Roman.” A flutter of satin lashes. “There is nowhere for you to go where you could be absolved of my love.”