#lls figure
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dailyfigures · 2 months ago
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Sonoda Umi ; Love Live! Sunshine!! ☆ Good Smile Company
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snoozemoose · 7 months ago
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thefigureresource · 4 months ago
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Keke Tang : Baikakimu ver [Love Live! Superstar!!] 1/7 scale from Solarain coming December 2024.
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suddencolds · 6 months ago
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insatiable appetite [1/?]
sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head
ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)
special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently
Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)
For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.
There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.
All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.
Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.
When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 
“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”
“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.
Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”
“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 
“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.
“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”
Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”
No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.
It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.
It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.
They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 
Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 
It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...
“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.
“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”
“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”
“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”
He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.
“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 
“Did you really wait that long?”
He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”
Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”
“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”
“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”
Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”
He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 
“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”
He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.
“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”
That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…
Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.
Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 
He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.
Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:
“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”
God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.
For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.
“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.
Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.
The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.
“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 
Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”
Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”
Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”
“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”
“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 
“It’s not a problem.”
Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.
When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 
“What are you—”
Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 
“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”
Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”
Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”
“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.
“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”
This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 
Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.
Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.
So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 
Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.
“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.
“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.
Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”
“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”
Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 
But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”
Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.
“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  
The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.
Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 
“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.
Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 
“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.
Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.
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baltharino · 9 months ago
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Happy birthday You Watanabe!
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pleasedontcareaboutme · 3 months ago
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It's missing my father hours rn so imma just dump a bunch of pictures here and cry
( sorry i don't know the source of anything I just had them on my phone)
(also dont read the tags i just need to let it out lol)
#I just realized I can call him dad easier than my real dad and now I understand why am I so damn attached to him#I always knew he was a parental figure for me#but now I connected the dots#How when u have an absent dad and a d34d mom a guy shows up in ur life#that tells u life advice that both of ur parents failed to do so#and makes u feel safe the first time in ur life#ofc ud become attached#i know for sure its unhealthy how much i love and miss him#he occupies most of my thoughts honestly#But how could i not cling to him so much when he was the only one who gave me hope in life#i try to keep going and even tho he is not here i keep telling myself whatever he taught me. i keep reminding myself he wants us to live an#bloom and be free#and that's what ill try to do#but you know somedays i wish i could just disappear and be wrapped in eternal happiness#its so fucking hard to pull yourself out of the slump man im so fucking tired im so so tired#somedays i wish id have the courage to off myself but i know that deep down i want to live and ive always wanted to live but i have no idea#how to live. i feel like i finally found a purpose and someone i love. but at the same time im always doubting myself and im scared of losi#g this little hope again and i know i should cherish and use it instead but each day i have this anxiety because rn i have nothing else if#lose this i seriously will lose everything atp. but ill still try bc rn its this or death so i should try im just damn tired yes anyways#sorry for being depressing some days just dont work out but thats okay#yes at the same time i want to get out of my head and try to find some friends but i cant deny that im highkey fucked up and i just cant le#go of my past and i still feel like that helpless unloved kid and idk how to form relationships this way. i dont trust myself at all so idk#how to trust others. and i feel like in order to find ppl that would love me i have to overshare abt my whole lifestory bc it still dictate#my life heavily. and since i met this band its better cuz im learning to deal w it and i want to heal from everything but yes at the same t#me who would wqnt to be friends w. someone that has like a year of life experience and 18 years of depression lol#so yes its complicated. bc i have friends but im like the funny friend. the one that is as shallow as puddle and has no problems but honest#y im genuinely sufferint qnd have been sufferinz all my life so i want to come out of my funny friend role. but that wojld mean i have to t#ll the shit i went through to all my friends but tbh it would be so random so ye. i do have a plan though. how it could work. But yes im ti#ed have been tired for 7 years now. But this time around i hope i can successfully get out of this torture cycle lol.#ok sorry this is what happens after puberty guys i could beva research case for a damn mental institute atp xdd
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thornedsidekick · 5 months ago
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btw ummm here's some other oc's of mine. Darla Sterling (she/her) + Simon (he/him) ... Darla is a counselor that specializes in villain therapy and her best lil emotional support monkey is Simon. Simon is psychic btw, he usually communicates via body language Or his lil collar translator he built (he has a very high intellect from all the experiments that were done on him years ago)(Darla saved him by stealing him from a lab lmao)
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cuppajj · 2 years ago
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I've been meaning to draw LL and Novabird for a long while and I finally got around to it - here he is playing with his lo-la! :D
for @dimorphodon-x, happy birthday! Novabird belongs to them
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hozaloza · 7 months ago
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GUYS
RED BULLIED THE FANS REAL/????????!?!??!!??!?! (this is a joke, it was all in humor LOL--)
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she even sided with my mean stinky friend 😔😔/JJ
I've never laughed so hard from discord 😭😭
(ignore what she was asking about earlier, that is very unrelated to what happened 🥰🥰)
.....
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😨
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dailyish-mario-hugo · 1 month ago
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* day 36 - i lied
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pinkprettycure · 2 months ago
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thats the thing about girly hobbies, is that girly communities love to position themselves in direct opposition to the toxic male man boy communities. like the whole thing about how a female president would save the world and if girls were in lord of the flies they'd make flower crowns and sing or whatever.
girly communities are just so wholesome and pure, doubly so if its a nerdy girly community. So you get ppl talking about how wholesome and loving and accepting everyone always is, and how nobody fights about dumb things and they're so drama free and kind, as women often are. and that anyone who complains is an outsider of some sort that just doesnt Get It and doesnt Belong and actually? you just must hate women!
you see it in jfashion but also like, shojo manga fans do this so frequently while positioning themselves as better than shonen fans, magical girl fans? you don't get it, magical girls are about girl power and female empowerment there is no place for masculinity here duh. otome fan spaces are particularly nasty about it bc if they're not going terf mode on that "stop invading womens spaces!" shit they just say bar for bar the shit that anti-woke dude bros say about anime "go away and play your indies if you don't like it" "asians don't need to cater to you"
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dailyfigures · 11 months ago
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Yazawa Nico ; Love Live! Sunshine!! ☆ Good Smile Company
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angeart · 1 year ago
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Mumbo’s arms wrap around him so easily, so naturally, and it is both familiar and completely unknown. It feels like something old, something forgotten, something lost—but not found. Never found. Even now, it’s hovering somewhere just barely out of reach.
Scar leans into the hug, exhaling softly, but he can’t comprehend it.
Rationally, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows they’ve hugged lots in the past. He knows that this is normal. He knows that maybe it should be him to make that first step—to be touchy, to be clingy, to keep stepping too close into Mumbo’s personal space. He used to be like that, didn’t he? Greedy for affection. So very liberal with it.
It feels like he’s standing in a barren wasteland, squinting at the memories of his other self. It's so very far away from where he’s at, he can barely see it. But it's there, he knows, he knows. A version of him that is free; a version of him unafraid to give love. A version of him filled with joy and affection, unshy in the face of possible rejection.
And he’s been so damn lonely on that mountain.
He should want this. He should long for it and reach and take, take, take.
He isn’t taking.
He’s relaxed in Mumbo’s hold, but doesn’t linger when Mumbo pulls away. He doesn’t chase it. He doesn’t feel like he wants to; he just feels wrong and askew. A little bit empty. A little bit broken.
Where is the person he used to be?
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thefigureresource · 5 months ago
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Chisato Arashi : Baikakimu ver [Love Live! Superstar!!] 1/7 scale from Solarain coming December 2024.
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firedragon1321 · 6 months ago
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Fanartists stop making Sora 1+ heads shorter than Riku challenge (impossible).
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baltharino · 1 year ago
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Korekara no Someday
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