#hope you’ll love this

[poolnoodling]

wip wednesday!

The arrangement was simple. Cleaner once a week. Gardener every two. Swim practice on a Friday, Japanese tutor every Tuesday, dentist appointments marked with a sharpie’d molar on the calendar squares. Eight weeks of summer to see them through. It was predicted the hottest on record.

cookin up a draft in which gojo’s the family babysitter and getou’s the unfairly hot older brother of said babies

ensue a long hot summer

[arcanegifs]

This is the last time I'm going to be annoying about this, I swear.

A few examples of that I, a gifmaker, personally love seeing under the tags:

Analysis of said scene, show, or character, especially the long ones going in depth that span like 1000 words

People saying how crisp the GIFs look and how nice the coloring is THANK YOU. ILY GUYS. That's always huge praise for me.

Reacting with how emotional you got with the scene. How painful and emotional or how touching a scene is.

People making funny jokes, memes, comments, etc.

Literally ppl horny posting LMAO. It's super funny to read and I love seeing all the unhinged comments.

Seeing how much you loved the show and its characters

Things I don't like seeing under the tags. And these are just two very specific things:

How much you hate the show, how much you think a scene is bad, how much you hate a character, the ship, the creators, etc. or how much you dont like this ship anymore, calling a ship horrible because ____ reasons. OKAY! I get it! But I don't want to see that. Make your own hate post on your own blog! You're free to have an opinion on how much you hate something. Just do it on your own blog.

Asking why I leave out certain scenes out, why I decided to gif this scene, or not gif more of these characters. Sometimes, I'm just exhausted. I can overlook things. You guys don't know how draining making gifs can get to me, especially the scenes that are really long. But I do it because I LOVE Arcane, the story, and the characters, and the particular scenes that I make gifs of. I have my own biases too. Of course I’m making them first. Please, just make them yourself instead of complaining under the tags of my edits. Yes, I can see them.

Don’t get me wrong, I wholeheartedly appreciate everyone who supports and follows the blog. I want to make a million more HQ gifs of this amazing show, but sometimes, the very rare negativity can still get overwhelming, to the point where it demotivates you.

Arcane is extremely special to me because it's such a fantastic show, and that alone motivates me in trying to create more GIFs. Honestly, if it was any other fandom or show? I would've probably left already. Arcane is THAT great.

I know the block button is there. I use it too, but sometimes, the amount of effort and time you exert to create FOR FREE just isn’t worth it. And that’s why gifmakers and creators stop making things for fandom. It’s not fun anymore. It’s not worth it.

Some people think that making my style of GIFs is easy. Then great! Since you think so, then do it yourself and help create for the fandom too! I wholeheartedly encourage you to do it!

TLDR: Don't be rude on people's fanwork, especially when they are created FOR FREE. If you don’t like their fanwork, you can make them yourself.

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

[doodlingfoolishness]

A little talk, between a brother and a sister. ❤️

[mrfroag]

The Emerald and his Ruby!

[designs as always by the lovely @/chrisrin]

[bruciemilf]

Couldn’t defeat the rapist cheeto through votes? Kay. Murder it is!

[kataracy]

Kataang Week 2024 DAY 1 // Cultural Sharing

“I’m nervous. Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing amazing Sweetie.”

[chaosduckies]

Surprise Sketches of some OC’s I was working on for a fic I was writing. Again, not an artist but I think they turned out okay! :D (I think the tiny is going to be smaller but I’m physically incapable of drawing that small on my current canvas size)

Don’t worry, the big guy is gentle… even if sometimes he doesn’t realize things until after he’s done them. But aghhh. Tiny with a broken wing, forced to stay with someone hundreds of times bigger than himself until he’s healed up which could take months? Amazing. Chef’s kiss

I won’t reveal the names yet, but this one is an extreme size difference because I love it so much 🫶

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Local knight is enamored by the princess

Fantasy au!Kat and Lily

[lambmotifz]

can you pls rec me some wincest feminization kink fics? thank u 🫶🫶

my forever-favorites!

it’s easy if you try [orphaned] (daddy kink, short but beautifully written)

i’ve built my life around you by kermiethefrog (pre-series, dark & angsty)

honeywater by weefaol (sam has a pussy and dean wants to fuck it.)

hell, michigan by weefaol (“not a girl, dean,” he growls, low and feral. “but you can fuck me like one.”)

love my way by shir_hashirim (dean’s mommy issues exploration fic ft. mommy!sam)

honeymoon [orphaned] (dean’s always wanted a wife. sam fits the bill perfectly.)

mommy dearest by tradwifesam (sam wants to play mommy and daddy. dean is into it. one of the hottest fics i’ve ever read, very in character + delicious dialogue)

[christopher067]

heard some people would like to see more nails from me ;D

little wip of a fun starry set coming to TSR next week !! ✦ including the earrings 👀

[pumpkinnkidd]

and for the first time, the grass is green.

@barrenclan

( altered version under cut )

[viktuurishipper96]

Douglas and Oliver Honeymoon night in Sodor.

Since you guys loved my sneak peek picture, mind as well reveal it right now.

Here is Douglas and Oliver in bed as they’re looking at each other loving into each other’s eyes on a beautiful night. They’re married and now soulmates and they love each other no matter what. I hope you’ll like the illustration.

On that note:👀

Happy Bisexual Visibility day!! Stay beautiful 💖💜💙🦋

here’s the ref/pallets I’ve used here

one : @color-palettes : Flora Pales Compared to You

two: Pinterest

[prince-sawgrass]

Luxaeterna, a participant in the first true battle of the war between the Rainwings and Icewings, the Battle of Stolen Light. Her venom-fangs were torn out by an Icewing poacher, and after surviving and avoiding capture, replaced them with harder gemstone teeth. She’s well known for the number of Icewing skulls she’s impaled throughout the war. She is Boomslang and Quetzal’s great aunt. Postwar, she has been reunited with her living grandnephew and accompanies him for scale retrieval in the Ice and Sky Kingdoms.

Quetzal in his last moments before being murdered by an Icewing poacher. He had sold Boomslang’s egg to the Icewings in the hopes of gaining immunity from the scale trade- but he learned far too late that a bargain can’t be kept with someone who wants to wear your skin.

[thedeadthree]

THE SUN ON YOUR FACE ON YOUR SHOULDERS ITS GOLDEN MOUTH WHISPERING (SO IT SEEMS) YOU! YOU! YOU! — 𝐂𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑. 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟. (x)

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (ask to be added or removed or interact 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞!): @griffin-wood, @queennymeria, @nightbloodbix, @anoras, @leviiackrman, @aezyrraeshh, @marivenah, @risingsh0t, @avallachs, @full---ofstarlight, @unholymilf, @statichvm, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @alltoowelltv, @lavampira, @adelaidedrubman, @grapecaseschoices, @shellibisshe, @carlosoliveiraa, @carrionsflower, @cloudofbutterflies92, @kyber-infinitygems, @pinkfey, @celticwoman, @florbelles, @shadowglens, @yharnams

[skyloftian-nutcase]

@skyward-floored Congratulations on your follower milestone! Your writing is incredible, you’re full of ideas, and you’re fun to be around! Please enjoy Power and Warriors in a sickfic :)

.

Link stared across the field, speckled in snow as it was, shivering a little. The cold settled through his skin, into his heart and his bones.

It was over.

Such a victory should bring some sort of cheer, he supposed. But all he felt was frozen over, dread and emptiness taking root and pushing away any cheer like ice spreading within a container, cracking it.

He could hear the cheers of troops in the distance. Cia was defeated, and that was the end of it. Although Link had entered this war later than the other heroes, he still felt as if he should probably be cheering alongside them.

Well… the last time a war had ended things hadn’t gone great. Perhaps this was just leftover from that.

Nevertheless, despite his own feelings, he knew someone else who truly ought to celebrate. Yet he saw the captain shivering in the distance, scarf pulled tightly around him.

Perhaps it was because the others had already left. The war had technically ended a week ago. They’d all said their goodbyes. Yet Link chose to linger - he’d fretted, worried, and hated himself over leaving Zelda while she was in labor, but he’d had to investigate the threat while she was vulnerable. After speaking with Lana, and being assured that she could return him roughly around the time he’d left, that had eased his worries a great deal, though not entirely. With that knowledge, then, he found himself… delaying the inevitable. So while Mask and Tune had already returned to their own teams after a fairly tearful farewell, Link remained.

Which meant he saw the aftermath of their departure.

Swallowing, Link moved towards the small figure in the distance, boots crunching through the thin layer of snow that froze the grass beneath it. He knew the captain would be sad when the younger heroes left, given they were like brothers to him, yet he still wondered what else could be bothering his friend. The pair had left two days ago, and Hyrule was still celebrating its victory, and the captain had his friends and his mother there to be happy with him.

Should Link get General Impa? He himself was hardly suitable company for helping people emotionally. He tried time and again to be helpful to the captain, but he sometimes wondered if it really made a difference.

“Link?” He called when he got close enough.

The captain shivered a little and jerked, looking at him, startled. His cheeks were rosy in the cold, and he sniffled a little, smiling. “I half wondered if you would just leave without telling anyone. But what are you doing out here?”

Wow. He really thought Link would just disappear like that? Link knew he’d been secretive about nearly everything of his own journey, but he didn’t think he was that distant. Pushing that thought aside, Link tossed his question back at him. “What are you doing out here?”

The captain’s gaze drifted to the snow. “I just needed a minute. But now I, uh… I don’ t know.”

He sniffled again, but Link saw no tears. Taking a small step towards him, he asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Ye—ACHOO!”

Both heroes jumped at the magnitude of the sneeze, and Link let out a breathy chuckle. He could handle a sickness. “Come on. Let’s get you back to camp.”

The other hero sighed heavily, sounding very obviously congested, and rose from the stump where he’d plopped down.

“I… I know you need time alone,” Link said carefully. “But it isn’t wise to be sitting out in the cold like this if you’re already sick.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ll hear all about how wrong this was when I get back to camp,” the captain huffed, exasperated but in good humor. Then he groaned, rubbing his head. “I could do without the headache, though.”

Link bit his cheek, glancing at the other teenager. When the captain could sense his scrutiny, he prompted, “What is it?”

A little sheepishly, Link chuckled and admitted, “Well, with you being half dragon and all, I expected more fire with that sneeze.”

The captain rolled his eyes. “It would hardly be a surprise to me that I’m half dragon if I breathe fire every time I sneeze, you know.”

“But it would be funny,” Link quipped, though he still had no idea how such a parentage physically worked. He’d only heard of this Volga… person? Creature? He’d heard that he’d been controlled by Cia and his friend had fought him as a result, but he’d never seen the dragon for himself. At least with the dark sorceress gone, the captains’ father would be… free now?

It still didn’t really make sense. Link’s own experiences with dragons hardly made him think they were sentient, and even if they were…

He certainly hoped Ganondorf hadn’t been mind controlling them. That felt far too much like murder, considering he’d killed the two that had beset Hyrule’s army and villages.

The two arrived back at camp just as the celebrations seemed to be dying down. They were nearly back to Castle Town, the point at which Link had told himself he’d finally leave this land. The captain groaned again, pausing and squeezing his eyes closed.

“What’s wrong?” Link asked, hovering over him worriedly.

“Nothing,” the hero mumbled. “Just need a minute.”

“You know, it hardly counts as lying when it’s so obvious,” Link grumbled. “You’re basically insulting my intelligence. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The captain sighed heavily, glancing at him. “It’s just this sickness. I’ve been nauseous on and off all day. It’s partly why I left camp. That, and just…”

The other two, Link supplied mentally.

“Come on,” Link said gently, guiding him towards his tent. His eyes caught sight of movement up ahead in the shadows, and it became obvious they were being watched.

Impa.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Link continued quietly, eyes never leaving the general’s. The two had come to an understanding after she’d given her reasons for handing her son off to a Hylian family. Having sacrificed his own relationships for the safety and betterment of others, Link had related a little too hard to her plight.

But still… he didn’t know. Would it truly have been so awful if she’d simply… stepped down? Or was she absolutely necessary in her role? Would her son have benefited more from being raised by her?

Link didn’t know. He’d never met a parental figure who hadn’t lied to him, mistreated him, or not trusted him. At this point he was half convinced good parents didn’t even exist.

Still, she did genuinely care about her son, and so Link motioned invitingly with his head to get her to follow them.

When they entered his tent, Link helped his friend sit on the cot, making some warm tea while the captain took off his shoes and armor and laid beneath the blankets. He heard the tent’s entrance rustle once more, and General Impa was there a moment later.

The captain stiffened, uneasy, though it was clear the general’s presence wasn’t unwelcome. Instead, he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“You’re sick,” General Impa noted, face and voice softening.

The captain sighed. Link handed the tea to both his guests, debating if he should leave. Impa motioned for him to sit as well, though, catching him off guard, and he plopped on the ground.

“Do you need food?” She asked, eyes scanning her son.

“I’m not hungry,” the captain replied. “Too nauseous.”

“Water, then, along with this tea,” she noted, voice heavy with an order.

“The tea has ginger in it, so that should help your stomach,” Link added helpfully.

General Impa glanced at him, lips pulling into a small, grateful smile. The captain, however, still had his eyes on his mother, gaze searching for something, seeming to bask in the attention but also not know how to handle it.

Link rose. He could gather supplies and help that way, but with the captain’s heavy heart and stomach, a mother’s touch seemed far better suited to this matter. He smiled. “I’ll get some broth and water for you. And don’t argue, captain - there’s no one to play to here. You can just let others help you.”

No need to be the older brother anymore.

It seemed bittersweet, maybe even mean to point that out, but it was simply true. And it wasn’t just because the two children were gone - the war was over. He didn’t have to be strong for anyone anymore. Certainly not in this moment.

The captain wilted, but General Impa put a hand on his shoulder, saying something soft to him, and, with as miserable as he felt, he finally gave in, leaning against her. Link felt some warmth bubble in his chest, pushing away the icy emptiness that had been gnawing at him.

The war was over. He hoped this time it would be a good thing for the Hero it had forged.

Heading outside, he moved to gather some more items to help his friend, ignoring how the scar on his cheek suddenly stung and leaked a hint of blood, ignoring the darkening of the sky, the whisper on the wind.