#tbh i still kind of like this piece

[daeyumi]

Gerudo Summer ☀️🏝️🌴

[2021]

[luguangs]

though the movie might be cancelled, yuri on ice will live forever in our hearts. thank you yoi fandom, it's been real ♡

[buwheal]

BEACH OUTFIT 💥💥💥💥

He used to surf the web back in 98'.

[autisticsonic]

someone asked for lore so yeah he's got that liquid metal baby!! underneath there's a skeleton, which somewhat limits his shapeshifting abilities, confining to an approximate shape of it, except the arms, which the skeleton lacks! Phosphophylite Situation. It looks like ferrofluid

[ravinoforre]

Still life in Iselia Acrylic on canvas. Finished in 2 sessions. (process photos and ref below)

reference screenshot:

and screenshot taken from the angle you'd normally see it at:

[qoldenskies]

WAIT I THINK I RECOGNIZE YOU. TELL ME IF IM BEING STUPID BUT DID YOU WRITE CAMP CAMP FANFICTION PERHAPS

CHOKES ON BLOOD

yeas....... i was 13 whole years old....... 😔 my dark past finally catches up to me

[lostburgerprince]

can't stop thinking about how i flipped through the veilguard artbook today and how my perception of what it was going to be from seeing chatter about it online and what it actually was were completely different. (obvious in hindsight) like i thought the core concepts laid out in joplin were really not far off from what we ended up with and honestly, im not sure how much of a difference getting the game 5-8 years ago instead of now would have made.

like it probably would have been a much different game in execution but you can't tell me the reactions would have been less severe bc 'people wouldn't have had the time to make the game they wanted in their heads' bc have you been in this fandom? people were making up the game they wanted the second trespasser ended. that was never going to be a battle da4 was going to win.

[crocrubies]

be seeing you

[ninawolv3rina]

Kickin’ it!

Spidersona: Cass Carver, the Uncanny X-Spider (she/her)

Finally, a casual look for my girl :3

[asterdeer]

winging the back of this shadow-inspired cardigan is hilarious because yeah crochet hurts my hands so bad it's not even funny and yeah i'm doing something that may not even look good so i may have to tear it all out again and start over. guess what though. still doing it because i can't be bothered with the 20 minutes it would take to chart it out

[coldshrugs]

perhaps 💗 + estinio if you’re feeling it <:

thank you dani!! i am always feeling it 🥴

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft || 790 words || allusion to nudity/sex, but it's really just morning-after mush.

The sun winks between thick, velvet curtains, the single sliver of light determined to fall across Estinien’s face. The rest of the room is still comfortably shadowed in early morning gray. Realization creeps into his senses like the unusual warmth spreading from the source beside him. He wakes fully, trying to quiet the thunder of his heartbeat in his own ears.

Io is loosely curled on her side, ink-blue hair draped across both their pillows and covered only by his sheet bunched around her waist. She sleeps soundly, unaware of his quiet observation. 

This is the first night they've shared a bed–among other firsts.

It replays in his mind, fragmented and out of time: a dozen images–remembered sensations–of her hands on his body, her just parted mouth, his patient ache for her soothed and amplified in equal measure. She is his, the realization settles in his mind, heavier under the weight of her serenity. In a manner she doesn't and cannot belong to the rest of the world, she is his.

If she were not here now, Estinien might think it a dream. He rolls onto his back, palms digging into his eyes. It feels real enough.

So real that his movement disturbs her. Io stirs and pulls the sheet up to her chest. He watches the sleepy, twitchy smile that creases the skin around her eyes. She’s holding them shut, pretending he didn’t wake her.

“You’re shit at mummery.” His voice is thick, more gravel than teasing sweetness. He wishes he’d cleared his throat first.

Io opens one eye, a sliver of blue darker than the shadows around them glancing his way. She sets her face to firm seriousness before closing it again. “Is this better? Shall I snore?”

“Would it be more believable?”

“Even less so.”

“Let no one say you’re inconsistent.”

Io bolts up into the sunbeam, rounding on him with an open grin and sleep-heavy eyes, ready to wield the steel edge of her wit in this feigned indignance. “I–”

But the banter dies on her lips. She sees him and freezes, clutching the sheet tighter against her chest. Estinien can’t quite name the emotion in her expression. Only sees that she is suddenly aware of the greater context he had the luxury of noticing quietly.

He assumes she will shy away. Pull into herself and flee the mortification of this vulnerability. It would not be against her character, and he would not begrudge the instinctive withdrawal.

Instead, she reaches up to smooth her hair, wide eyes drifting across his face, his unclothed chest, and back again. He catches her thick swallow, then the sheet falls away as she leans in. 

Io approaches, illuminated from behind. Slow and golden, like amber. There is a moment, tiny and insulated, in which he considers once more if this is a dream. If there is a more beautiful sight on this star, he has not seen it. He doesn't care to. In the liminal space between her anxiety and certainty, her outstretched hand before it meets his skin, the fading distance keeping him from her affection, Estinien wonders why he should deserve this. Her friendship, her companionship, and if he were keen to wager… her love.

Io’s fingers graze the gnarled scar on his shoulder with the same tenderness they did the night before. He closes his eyes, and she indulges in the privacy. Fingertips sweep along his collar, over his neck, and down to his chest, where her hand rests, finally, over his heart.

There is a question in her kiss. A need for reassurance after sharing something rare, inviting him to see a part of her reserved for few. Her lips drag across his, each gentle press lingering longer than a single breath.

Estinien gathers her in his arms and answers in kind. He matches her unhurried movements and magnifies her intensity, until nothing remains of her self-doubt. She pulls away with an easy smile, but doesn’t go far.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers between them, biting her lip, and he will be thinking about that all day. “I should have more decorum during such an occasion. Instead, I asked you if I should snore.”

Estinien kisses her again, then clears his throat. “And what of it? We sleep together, and now humor is forbidden? Your comfort makes me glad.” His thumb strokes a steady rhythm across her back. 

“You could not make me more comfortable if you tried, a fact that has been well-demonstrated.” Io settles on his chest, proving her point. Her fingers skim over smooth muscle and raised scars without discrimination, and Estinien is in no rush for this to end. “I hope we will have more mornings like this. I like your sleepy voice.”

[rainingincale]

...

[impossible-rat-babies]

OK !

[justsomeguycore]

to be honest i can’t wait for more fellow travelers

[girl-bateman]

Reading my great aunts annotations and underlined words and finding her shopping-list bookmark stuck between the pages of books, I feel closer to her than I ever did and I wish we had talked more when she was alive but all I can hope for now is that she's happy that someone's reading her favourite books and thinking about her. I would be.

[eternalchant]

i wish i could really get into and articulate why i think that the last season of hannibal was incredibly mid and not saved by how gay it was or whatever but i feel like i would be flayed alive on this website.