#im in LOVE

[corkinavoid]

I have been blessed by wonderful @fine-x and their beautiful art!

Thank you so so so much for it, I know I've already said it, like, ten times, but I really can't express how happy this makes me feel!

Remember the Alt Rock to the Rescue post?

Behold the art inspired by it!

[kyloispunk]

Love OF MY LIFE AHHHHH

PEDRO PASCAL as MARCUS ACACIUS

Gladiator II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott

[superdupersketcher-booper]

It is 3:00am, I just finished watching Season 7 of the Dragon Prince and Lord help me I’m BAWLING MY EYES OUT. BECAUSE AFTER THAT CRAZY ROLLERCOASTER OF A FINALE, they shove Leola’s ACTUAL last wish in my face and I can’t deal man I’m going to bed😭

But I actually adore this series, my heart goes out to the VA’s and the animators and writers and producers literally anyone who helped make this beautiful show. Seriously. You’ve ripped my heart out, and I’d highly appreciate it if you’d rectify that with some follow-up, please and thank you.🙏

[tldix]

being his controversially young gf could fix me

[placeboelysium]

Posting this so I can say ... I need her so bad guys

[xstarrgirllx]

little do you guys know i’m under him🤫

credits to @ilydrew on tiktok

[minchanlove]

i want to give him all the love and happiness in the world 😭

[jhnmhm]

She was made for MEEEE in mind

[dangerous-curves-ahead]

Ashley Tervort Part 2

[rosesandalfazemas]

THE BRIT GANGSTERS

The LORD (England) The HIGH KING (N. Ireland) The SORCERER (Wales) The CHIEF OF THE CLAN (Scotland)

Source

[inkyquince]

Okay so maybe in just brain rotted... And I am BUT.

Love interests fucking GRABBING the dark urge for a kissy after the meeting with gortash. Man's turning up the rizz and flexing his stubble and eye bags and his anti-anxiety robe and his voice is low and seductive as he calls the durge an old *friend*.

Like, Karlach wouldn't even wait to be out of the room. Not even take a few steps away. Fully turn to you, grab you by the shoulders and fucking LIFT you up to plant a big smooch on you. Much to Gortash's bemusement and horror tbf. And the rest of the court's.

Gale would be more subtle, stepping close as you head towards the stairs and quickly press a kiss to your cheek with a soft smile. No way anyone would think it's a platonic look of adoration, even if his stomach is still twisting with the revelation that it was YOUR actions that led to this.

Astarion? Yeah, your conversation wouldn't have even ended before he's doing his slutty lil lean against you, resting his chin on your shoulder, still seemingly fully absorbed into the conversation. After it ends, he presses a kiss to your neck and idly follows after you, bemused by his own spark of annoyance at Gortash and his reaction to it. Mostly just exasperated by it though.

Wyll is filled with outrage for his father, for karlach and now for you. The implications seeped in Gortash's words and yet when you had joined up with the group, you had been left in the trash heaped, bloodied and stricken with amnesia. He's disgusted. So on the way out, he takes another look at his father and then slips his hands into yours. Raises it and gently kisses your knuckles on the way out. Even some of the court coo at the cute, gentlemanly gesture. Gortash looks mildly grossed out and Wyll takes that win, even with the prospect of meeting back up with Mizora in a few seconds.

Lae'zel would bare her teeth at him, smack his down and break his face in, if.... Well, if everything else wasn't going on right now, and it would upset the tin soldiers. So she settles for the next best thing, as resentment and possessiveness curl her tongue. Just gripping your waist and pulling you closer should do it. But she must add in a quick, harsh bite to your lower lip. Yknow, just in case.

Shadowheart? Gods, to make it clear, she's dying to press you against the wall and slide a thigh against your crotch, but yknow. Polite company. So instead she just slips her arm around yours, pulls you closer and whisper into your ear. Looks more salacious than it is, as she whispers that your past isn't who you are now and then drops a kiss to your earlobe. But it should to the trick.

Halsin isn't an envious creature. He really isn't. This man wouldn't care about your current other partners, so why should he care about past ones? Potential past parents, nonetheless. But, he'd never turn down the chance to pull his love close, especially in front of the man that caused all this trouble to begin with. Pull you close and tuck you into his side, maybe even kiss your temple.

Gortash? Gortash has missed his favourite assassin. He's waited for you, even with Orin hissing about your demise, and he never truly believed that such a piece of subpar, inbred Bhaalspawn could compare to you. The one who stole the Crown, the one who helped mastermind, the one who your father had chosen first. So what in the world was your little fan thinking? After a sweet, pleasant conversation, to start to paw at you? A fool no doubt. They might have gotten a few lovely weeks with you, but he had been with you for far longer, and he was finished waiting. No, he didn't see them being a problem.

[karo-li]

it took me sooo long to finally watch the owl house, but OH MY GOD. this is probably the best piece of media that could exist. we have such amazing representation there in, i think, everything and handled so respectfully. characters are so real and interesting. and lumity, gosh, lumity is such a sweet and beautiful ship 🥺

i even get an undercut hairstyle bc of amity hahah

[justawanderingfan]

YOU GET A CAT FRIEND

[cazmonaut]

is it madness?

[coolestork]

Of Surprising Encounters

Rogal Dorn x Reader (Fluff)

-

Description: Guilliman finds Dorn in an... Unusual scenario.

Note: some teeth rotting fluff for the soul. This idea popped into my head and I wanted to see it done so here it is. BONE APPLE TEETH!!

-

The halls of the Imperial Palace were silent as Roboute Guilliman made his way toward Rogal Dorn’s quarters. His own business had concluded sooner than expected, leaving him with an uncharacteristic gap in his schedule—a rare opportunity to speak with his brother. He hadn’t seen Rogal in days, and he found himself wondering how his stern brother was faring under the relentless demands of fortifying Terra. A quick conversation, perhaps even over tea, might offer a brief respite for them both.

As he neared Dorn’s quarters, however, a strange sound reached his ears—one that was so unexpected he paused mid-step, a look of puzzlement crossing his features.

Laughter.

Guilliman narrowed his eyes, his mind already racing to account for such an occurrence. Rogal Dorn, laughing? The man who rarely allowed even a glimmer of amusement to touch his face? And it wasn’t a dismissive chuckle or a faint smirk, but the unmistakable, genuine laughter of his often-impervious brother.

He moved closer to the source, curiosity tugging him forward with each step. He reached a doorway that was half open and, after a moment’s hesitation, glanced inside.

There, in a secluded corner of the room, stood Rogal Dorn, his back half-turned to the door, speaking to someone—a human, Guilliman realized—a young woman who wore the austere garments of Dorn’s personal serfs. Her head was tilted up to look at him, her expression open and honest, a warmth in her gaze that Guilliman hadn’t expected.

Dorn’s laughter was already fading into an amused murmur as she spoke to him, her voice low and animated. “Well, my lord,” she was saying, a glimmer of boldness in her tone, “even if it isn’t exactly protocol, I hardly think the universe will come apart at the seams because you took an extra hour to rest.”

Rogal’s shoulders shook faintly with another rare chuckle as he looked down at her, a faint smile tugging at the usually stone-set corners of his mouth. “Careful, or I’ll put you to work fortifying the outer walls yourself,” he replied, but his voice held no malice. In fact, it sounded… lighter. Almost kind. “Let’s see how cavalier you are when you’re stacking stone.”

The serf’s eyes widened dramatically, then softened with a mock plea. “If it’s for you, my lord, I suppose I’d even take up a chisel and hammer.” She straightened, affecting a faux solemnity that made him chuckle again.

Guilliman felt his eyes widen slightly, a touch of shock filtering through his otherwise composed expression. He had always known Rogal Dorn as a paragon of composure, of discipline. He was as impassable as the fortifications he built, his loyalty and resolve as unbreakable as his stern demeanor.

This? This was a side Guilliman had never seen.

Uncharacteristically uncertain, Guilliman considered stepping back quietly and pretending he hadn’t seen them. But Rogal’s sharp instincts were not so easily circumvented; his head lifted, and he turned, catching sight of Guilliman lingering at the doorway. For a split second, his face fell back into its usual impassive look. Yet, something almost… hesitant remained in his gaze, as though the tender moment he’d shared with the young serf wasn’t something he was inclined to dismiss.

“Roboute,” he greeted, inclining his head in polite acknowledgment. His tone was as calm and composed as ever, but Guilliman didn’t miss the subtle tension that had crept back into his posture, like a soldier instinctively returning to his watch.

“Rogal,” Guilliman replied, struggling to mask his curiosity as he entered the room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was on my way to speak with you and—” He stopped, unsure of how to finish his sentence. And I overheard you laughing with a serf? Even for him, that sounded presumptuous.

Rogal’s eyes narrowed, catching the faintest flicker of amusement. “And found me neglecting my usual stern image?” he finished dryly. The hint of a smile remained in his eyes as he looked over at his serf, who was now observing the two Primarchs with an air of tentative curiosity, clearly uncertain if she should stay or leave.

The young woman bowed her head slightly, her voice a respectful murmur as she addressed Guilliman. “My Lord Guilliman. I apologize if I caused any disturbance.”

“Not at all,” Guilliman replied, still studying her with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. She held herself with dignity, but he noticed a touch of warmth in her eyes that was far from the dutiful stoicism he usually expected from Dorn’s retainers. And what struck him most was the way Dorn regarded her—not with indulgence or aloofness, but with an unexpected respect that seemed to border on… fondness.

Rogal nodded toward her, a subtle yet protective gesture. “She’s my chief aide,” he said by way of explanation, though Guilliman hadn’t actually asked. “She insists on pushing the boundaries of propriety from time to time,” he added, his voice carrying a faintly amused grumble, as though he were resigned to her occasional audacity.

She smiled faintly, the corners of her mouth curving up as she glanced at him. “Only when you push yours, my lord,” she retorted softly, meeting his gaze with a trace of courage that took Guilliman aback.

Dorn’s eyes flashed, but he gave a slight nod. “She keeps my hours in order and my duties attended to. I would trust few others to speak as plainly.”

Guilliman observed this exchange, marveling at the subtle but undeniable ease that existed between them. “I admit, brother,” he said finally, his voice laced with a touch of incredulity, “I didn’t expect to find you in such… informal company.”

Rogal’s lips quirked briefly in a nearly imperceptible smile. “There is no threat to Terra in a few moments of levity, Roboute.”

“I see that,” Guilliman replied, watching the serf with a new sense of admiration. It took a rare spirit indeed to draw Dorn out of his self-imposed fortress of discipline, to coax laughter from him without compromising his principles. “It seems you’ve found a rare and valuable asset.”

Rogal inclined his head. “Indeed. Her efficiency speaks for itself. The rest…” He glanced at her briefly, an almost imperceptible warmth flickering in his gaze. “The rest is merely a… byproduct.”

Guilliman looked between the two, feeling the unspoken bond that filled the air like a quiet current, subtle yet deeply rooted. He could see that there was no act, no artifice here. Just a shared sense of purpose and, perhaps, something more.

Turning to her, he offered a courteous nod. “You serve well. It’s not every day my brother grants another the privilege of a… laugh.”

She dipped her head, a touch of a smile on her face. “Thank you, my lord. And if I may, I would like to keep this occasion in quiet confidence.”

Guilliman’s lips twitched with a faint smile of his own. “Very well. Let it be our secret.”

With that, he turned to Rogal once more, meeting his brother’s gaze with an understanding born of respect. “I’ll leave you to your company, then,” he said, his tone light.

“Thank you, Roboute,” Rogal replied, a faint nod of gratitude in his words.

Guilliman turned to go, but not before glancing back one last time. There was a warmth in the air he hadn’t expected, a quiet peace in Rogal’s usually impassive stance.

With a final nod, Guilliman left the room, feeling the faintest of smiles on his face as he walked away, carrying with him a newfound understanding of his brother and a memory he knew he would keep close in the days to come.

-

Note: isnt this cute!!1 Dorn laughing with a serf is such an abstract concept I had to bring it to life. anyway, what do yall weirdos think

[qqtape]

drew the woman i love