#twillight core

[livingdeadsusi]

– natasha no estaleiro 𖦹๋࣭⊹₊⟡

[crossthread]

Dude same. Its the wet weather, the trees, the greenery. The lake near the Black's, the sunlight one week out of the year, its Bellla's red truck. The plot was meh but I keep going back for the sheer ambience of that town.

Twillight (2008)

For me, this film has its unique ambiance however bad the writing or acting may be still retains solitary feelings.

[cliriq]

[salemsh1t]

[xx-key-xx]

Blood red, pale skin Moonlight, draw me in Quench my thirst, coarsing veins Let my body feel no pain.

How to turn into a vampire (100% real spell)

[trigun-manga-overhaul]

Trigun Ultimate Overhaul: Multiple Bullets Teasers and Commentary - Chapter 4, 5 and 6.

OVERHAUL FRIDAY 12/09/22 - MULTIPLE BULLETS POST 2

Welcome to the second of three post in the series of teaser posts for Trigun: Multiple Bullets.

These will be simple and quick posts to give people a small taste of the upcoming volume. Some may be unsure what exactly Multiple Bullets is, and to give a short answer to this, it's a collection of small chapters by various guest artists. This time we're digging into more varied artists and their small tribute chapters to the Trigun series.

Pictures and commentary below.

THE CHAPTERS:

THE DENIZENS OF THE SAND PLANET

- By Satoshi Mizukami (Other works include: Lucifer and the Biscuit Hammer and Spirit Circle.)

After the great conflict at Octovern the new chieftain of the sandworms and a young Plant have to decide who they believe their species can coexist with. With each other, or with Humans, if these fragile beings are even needed.

A nice and clean chapter to work with, not too crowded and the speech bubbles were spacious, making the typesetting simple and easy. It's often something we encounter when working with typesetting that the speech bubbles were obviously made with Japanese writing in mind, and therefore don't accommodate the English horizontal, left to right writing format. It's often that aesthetic quality is sacrificed to make the right text fit, even if text is far too close to the bubbles' borders, but sometimes there's nothing to do about that.

~

LES ENFANTS

- By Ark Performance (Other works include: Arpeggio of Blue Steel and Mobile Suit Gundam Twillight Axis.)

A retelling of the events that both Vash the Stampede and Nicholas D. Wolfwood went through in their mission to stop Millions Knives. Truly, their actions have gone down in history, a story told for generations to come.

Simple and straightforward. The Japanese in this chapter was more formal, clearly using different and bigger words to give it that novella flair. Descriptive and accompanied by beautiful art full of details and story relevant symbolism. A fantastic chapter.

~

MILLY / MERYL SATTELITE TV

- By Yuga Takauchi (Other works include: Mangaranai and Yurumates Ha?)

With Vash the Stampede constantly running way and remaining impossible to find, Meryl and Milly are forced to use their TV screen for anything they can come up with, desperately trying to keep viewers invested. Things don't exactly go as planned.

And now for something completely different.

This chapter was Hell to translate. Filled to the brim with culture specific references and slang terminology, it was very difficult to properly localize the dialogue so that it makes sense for non-Japanese reader. Hours were spent doing research to ensure the core of the theme mentioned is understood, so that we can ensure we understand the spirit of the joke used.

We eventually got an absolute slapstick experience, and now also presented in a coherent fashion, so we're looking forward to sharing this piece of hard work.

~

MORE INFO NEXT WEEK!

[thevagueambition]

Okay one last HP thought and I promise I’ll shut up: back when Mark Oshiro did his Harry Potter read through (he ran a blog where he wrote up a short essay on every chapter of a book he read,  starting with a ridicule of Twillight and later branching out extensively, idk if he’s still doing this), he mentioned his own abuse several times because the depiction of Harry’s abuse and the way he was affected by it resonated so strongly with him. I remember him writing that he expected Rowling must have been an abuser survivor of some kind herself to write it so authentically (which of course the tabloid media has long suspected to be true and Rowling has now confirmed herself).

Honestly, I really don’t think we can discount this as part of Harry Potter’s appeal. As hugely successful and popular as the series was with a large number of different sorts of people, many of the most dedicated fans have been people who are statistically more likely to have been exposed to abuse, bullying and/or hostile environments -- such as a LGBTQ people and neurodivergent people. No, it doesn’t always make total sense that the golden trio are outsiders, but they’re presented as such nonetheless. Harry, the abused kid with too big shirts full of holes and a temper that frightens those he loves, Ron, the impoverished kid who wears his brothers’ hand-me-downs and is a bit too fast to take the bait and Hermione, the autistic know-it-all who doesn’t quite get why people react to her lectures the way they do. This is, more than anything else, in my estimation, what resonated so strongly with fans. You can do a dissection of the politics of Harry Potter for fun and profit, but this is what lies at the heart of why people love it so much, and some of the things that get criticised are written in service of this moreso than what it’s getting criticised for (for example, Harry’s riches are part of the escapist fantasy more so than anything else).

There’s a reason the vast majority of those who love Harry Potter are disgusted by Rowling’s actions. She cultivated a core audience of people who would be.

[writefightandflightclub]

First light, last love

Summary: a lazy, fluffy morning in bed with your love, Santiago Garcia.

Author’s note: Very quick blurb in response to an ask- not my best but hope you like it! You can decide whether he means literal breakfast or “breakfast” *wink wink* at the end, depending on how you wanna be woken up.

Warnings: language, it’s Santi.

Word count: short and sweet. 

Tagging: @phoenixhalliwell​ @lostgirlheather​ @justrunamok​ @aellynera​ @damerondjarin​ @blushingwueen​ @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall​ @holybatflapexpert​ @himbopoes​ @arabellathorne​ @yourbucky084​ @mandoplease​ @mylifeliterally​ @arkofblake​ @multifandomlife22​ @yougottakeeponkeepinon​ @aisling-beatha​ @stardust-galaxies​ 

GIF by @twillight

The morning sun is the first caress on your skin, gently easing you awake. Santi’s hands are the second, pulling you from the warm embrace of slumber and into the warm embrace of him.

As you stir, you feel the sturdiness and familiar shape of Santi’s body pressed firmly to your back as he forms a big spoon around you. You absorb the texture of bare skin on skin as his nose nuzzles into the back of your neck, and his hand languidly wanders over your belly and your thighs. His fingertips trace symbols on to your flesh, which only those fluent in the language of love might hope to ever decipher, easing your consciousness into the waking world and to a place where you feel completely safe and content and held; in his arms.

You hum softly to signal to him you’re awake, and a blissed out smile eases over your lips, the joy that comes from waking up next to your love and enjoying this closeness spilling visibly out of you.

“Morning, Princesa,” he breathes, hot air and the deep rumble of his voice fanning over your neck. Santi presses a gentle kiss to your neck, propping himself up onto his elbow to allow his kisses to journey along your jawline, and you turn your head to greet his lips with yours, giggling into the kiss.

Every time you kiss him it feels like arriving home. Each moment with him holding you feels like breaking dawn. Warm, fresh yet familiar, and an inconceivable blessing.

You peel your eyelids open, failing to quell the happy smile which beams out of you as soon as your gaze greets his, those warm, coffee eyes the only wake-up call you need.

You love waking up slow with him like this. No alarms; no place to be, except beside each other.

“Morning, handsome,” you say softly, as his broad hand comes to gently cup your cheek.

Those hands of his. You love them so. Those hands which were trained to be lethal, but which felt like they were made to love you. When they feel so good against you, what other purpose could they possibly have?

Instead of craning your neck, you swivel until you are flat on your back, Santi’s prone body still tesselated neatly into your side. He smiles back at you, his eyes skimming over your face and hair as if he is seeing you afresh with the start of the new day; even though he has looked at you so often, you sometimes question how he could possibly still wonder at the sight of you. Even when you’re like this, still shaking off the dregs of sleep, face and hair still fresh from the pillow, Santi’s eyes are glowing with adoration.

Santi runs his hand over your contours, fingertips guiding his gaze and sweeping languidly over your chest and stomach and legs. The callouses of him rub against the smoothness of your skin as he cups handfuls of your soft parts in his palms as if you are his daily bread. As if he might bring you to his lips to sustain him. After all, how could he live without you?

As you enjoy his touch, light filters intermittently through the curtains, hazy and half-cocked, ocassionally finding its aim on your face or throwing bars of gold daybreak over Santi’s chest, sun glinting off his dog tags. 

“Holy shit, baby,” Santi breathes as he studies you. “Once again you’re even more beautiful to me than yesterday, and less beautiful to me than you will be tomorrow.” Santi’s lips quirk up playfully, as his fingertips continue to wander the planes of you. He’s never lost when he’s touching you. He’s never lost, like he has been so often in dense jungle, tunred around and scared for his life. His fingers always know their path. His lips always know thier route to your lips, even in the dark. And yet, although he knows you so well, he never tires of you.

“Fuck, Santi,” you say, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the light, feeling out your limbs and emerging gradually from the heaviness of sleep. “Just when I think you’ve run out of ways to charm me, you come out with something like that. Before you’ve even had coffee.”

You turn your body towards him and Santi lowers himself back to the pillow. You shuffle until you lie nose to nose with each other, shimmying the blankets down until they rest across your hips and tangling your thighs with the meat of his.

“I fuckin’ hope I never run out of ways to charm you, preciosa,” Santi says in earnest.

A lazy grin inches over his face, and you enjoy the creases which form around his eyes and mouth. Then, muffling his confession, Santi dips his head forward to nuzzle kisses into your neck. “Plus... alright, I confess to raiding the greeting card aisle yesterday while I was waiting for ‘Fish to checkout the beers.”

Your fingers filter into his grizzled curls as a soft chuckle shakes your chest up against him, and you absorb all the textures of him possible as his stubble grazes pleasantly along your collarbone and your breasts, soothed by lazy caresses of his lips and tongue. “That one made me think of you, cariño,” he whispers, his voice entirely earnest again as he tips his chin to look up at you from beneath his lashes and heavy brows with sincere eyes. 

You snicker softly as you nose into his curls, planting a loving kiss to the top of his head and lingering there to inhale the unique scent of him. Wrapping your arms around him more tightly, you tug him into your chest, and Santi hums contentedly, thoroughly dissolving into your embrace as you bring him closer and tangle limbs with him.

You feel so happy you might float to the ceiling, if you weren’t tethered by the blankets and by his embrace.

You both tug in a deep, steadying breath and exhale it together, enjoying nothing but the silence and the presence of each other for a few, extended moments.

“How is it-” Santi eventually begins to wonder idly as your arms encase him “-that I spend most of my time surrounded by a trained squad of killers, but I never feel safer than when you hold me like this?”

“Hmm. You didn’t get that from a Hallmark card, did you?” you tease, deflecting some of the raw emotion in his tone with humour, as it almost feels too overwhelming to handle, sometimes, Santi’s love. “That one was all you, you charmer?”

His words have a happiness blooming right from the core of you, and, you hope, suffusing back into him as you share this moment of loving each other, transmitting love back and forth through every touch and brush of lips and fingers and skin.

It is moments and mornings like this which you love the most. Not the grand gestures of love. Not the greeting card moments or the surprises or the special ocassions. The mundaness of love is everything to you. The simple, small joys with Santi are the ones you treasure the most.

“Yeah,” he jokes. “The rest said: everyone knows not to fuck with you, mi Reina, because they saw you tear Will a new one when he was a dick at our housewarming, and now cartels and drug lords cower in fear. Happy Thanksgiving.”

You laugh, a lilting sound which draws Santi’s eyes back to your lips, and you flop back on to the mattress, your arms raised above you on the pillow. Santi takes the opportunity to roll on top of you, craving even more contact. He boxes you in securely with his arms, and nudges your knees apart so he can lie in between your legs, hips pressing up against you. The weight of him against you, the feel of the solid mass of him on top of you is such a comfort, grounding you entirely when only moments ago you were lost to your dreams; still, moments like this with your love seem beyond your wildest dreams.

The chain of Santi’s dog tags jangle and pool on to your chest as he settles over you, the cool metal a pleasing contrast against your warm skin and the body heat emanating off of him. You regard them warily, ever since that time they chipped your tooth during a particularly vigorous embrace, but you have grown to love the familiar extension of him, and the reminder that although he is lethal, he is nothing but soft for you.

You follow the bobbles of the chain up and over his smooth chest, corded neck. To his face. God, he’s handsome. All over and at all times, but especially in the mornings like this, when he’s in nothing but his boxers and his watch and that chain. When his skin is bare and warm against you except for these shocks of cool metal. When he is still slightly grogged and unguarded, fresh from sleep. You love seeing his mussed mop of curls and the overnight sprouting of his stubble. Love having him all to yourself.

Santi swoops his soft lips down to kiss you again, and as he pulls back up you admire the happy glow in his heavy-lidded eyes. Admire the flexed muscles in his shoulders as he holds himself above you, and the soft curve of his belly pressing against yours. You drink him in, and you know he’s doing the same with you. 

While enjoying this moment, the like of which seems so rare these days, it suddenly strikes you how long you have gone uninterrupted.

“Santi, the house is quiet. What did you do to the boys?”

Santi grins down at you like the handsome devil he is and greedily kisses almost every inch of your face, bit by bit. “Sent the boys off to lake. Wanted you all to myself today.”

You smile broadly and gratefully at your thoughtful, adoring man. You were really enjoying the week out at the lake with the squad, but the boys could be a lot, and you did agree; you wanted Santi all to yourself for a little bit too. Ok, a lot.

“Thought we could have a lazy morning then take a picnic up to the coast? Found a good place you can do some reading while I lie in your lap and gaze longingly at you?”

You look at him adoringly and Santi takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue languidly along your lower lip, humming into the cave of your mouth as you grant him access and slowly mingle your lips and tongue with his like you have all the time in the world. 

You wind your arms lovingly around his neck, and pucker your lips to plant a delicate kiss to the tip of his strong, perfect nose. “You’re a genius, Santi. In fact, you know what? I love you more than I did yesterday, and less than I will tomorrow.”

Santi doesn’t smile at your words, despite the playful grin on your own face. He simply looks at you in wonderment again.  As if he’s seeing you fresh. Like every moment with you is a breaking dawn. “Fuck, Princesa. Who’s the charmer now?” Santi looks at you as though he’s the luckiest man in the world, and that never fails to floor you.

Yes, these were without doubt your favourite kind of mornings. You treasure these small moments together, where you have all the time in the world to adore each other. And you did; you do. You adore each other more and more every single day.

Sometimes, perhaps, waking is a sweeter dream than slumber, when your love makes every moment like a new day. Makes each feeling cheesy enough to write in a greeting card.

You smile conspiratorially, fluttering your eyelashes at Santi. Pushing your luck, even though you’re already the luckiest woman in the world. “Have I charmed you enough for you to make breakfast, my love?”

“Breakfast, mi Reina?” Santi purrs, pumping his eyebrows. “You just lie back and I’ll take care of breakfast. I’ll take care of you, ‘cause, fuck, do I love you too.”

Yes, this is it. This is definitely what dreams are made of.

[prfctcaballero]

   .︰˙. TODO UN CABALLERO  —   𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐎 . ❜

Bebé, tú me conoce'  sabes que nunca he sido de una sola mujer! No busques que el corazón te lo destroce. De la forma en que me quieres no me puedes querer : Bebé, le estás pidiendo el cielo a un diablo — MALUMA

QUE TAL DESCREVER O FÍSICO?

Voz: A voz de barítono, não é nem grave nem tenor, mas o mais marcante na voz do avalor é o fato de que sempre parece estar rindo a fala é alegre, e sempre usa a língua materna em suas falas, e mesmo quando não usa palavras em espanhol, o sotaque é muito forte no ralieno. É suposto que depois de tantos anos em Aether ele tivesse aprendido a disfarçar melhor o sotaque mas sabe o apelo que o seu sotaque tem nas nenas e porque mexer em time que está ganhando?

Idade: 25 anos.

Gênero: Cisgênero Masculino.

Peso: 72 kg

Altura: 1,83 cm.

Sexualidade: Heterossexual e heteromantico.

Defeitos físicos: Hadrían sempre foi ativo, desde muito pequeno, vivia jogando futebol nas ruas de Avalor, correndo descalço nas ruas de pedra, pulando muros e essas atividades lhe rendeu muitas cicatrizes nos joelhos, no queixo, na sobrancelha e até na cabeça, quando caiu de uma arvore e precisou de pontos até que fosse encontrado um curandeiro, mesmo assim as marcas ficaram.

Qualidades físicas: Os músculos são firmes e extensos graças a atividade física e os treinos sempre intensos. O sorriso é muito branco em contraste com a pele naturalmente bronzeada, o príncipe também tem cheiro de areia e mar o que é discutível se é porque ele mata muita aula para ir as praias ou se é porque ele é realmente um filho de Avalor.

É saudável? Quando chegou no instituto o clima bem mais frio do que a cidade natal fazia com que o menino ficasse constantemente resfriado, no entanto, com o tempo foi se tornando mais resistente as gripes, fora isso, os exercícios e a alimentação saudável provem ao príncipe uma saúde razoável, ainda que mudanças de clima sejam capazes de lhe arrancar espirros e sensação de desconforto, típicos de uma rinite alérgica.

Maneira de andar: Hadrían tem todo um gingado, enquanto anda a postura é muito aberta, típica da personalidade extrovertida, mas também é possível notar um quê de nobre na postura sempre muito ereta e na visível falta de preocupações que ele carrega.

QUE TAL DESCREVER O PSICOLÓGICO?

Práticas / Hábitos: Hadrían é um estudante relapso, e não leva as suas tarefas escolares muito a sério, talvez porque sempre encarou a coroa como algo garantido, podendo assim se focar em coisas mais interessantes como os esportes e aos clubes que participava, mais principalmente ao seu irritante hábito de flertar com qualquer criatura de sexo feminino que fosse considerada atraente pelo avalor. Mesmo assim, Elena vez por outra mandava relatórios para que ele pudesse analisar, Gabe, seu pai, também gostava de incentivar o filho a ser mais diligente no que diz respeito as tarefas militares, Hadrían nunca deixou a desejar mas também não era excepcional no trabalho, o que decepcionava Elena e irritava Gabe em doses iguais.

Inteligência: Burro não é bem palavra, mas Hadrían não é inteligente tão pouco. Falta determinação e paciência para os livros, algo que ele nunca teve. A mente precisa de estímulos, assim como os músculos, mas é muito claro qual dos dois Raúl costuma trabalhar, e se por um lado ele passa incontáveis horas no centro de treinamento e nos esportes, o intelecto nem sempre é sua prioridade. 

Temperamento: Feliz, as vezes é fácil chegar a conclusão que nada é capaz de deprimi-lo ou abalá-lo. Ele sempre tem algo bom a dizer, o tipo de pessoa que vê o copo ‘meio cheio’, de sorrisos fáceis e temperamento brando e carinhoso, o avalor arrancar risos e suspiros de professoras, funcionários da cozinha, camareiros e colegas de turma, é charmoso por natureza, sabe disso e no fundo, gosta muito dessa parte de sua personalidade.

O que te faz feliz? É uma criatura muito simples. Não encontra felicidade em luxos ou em qualquer coisa que as pessoas da nobreza veem contentamento, como manipular alguém ou poder. Suas coisas favoritas de fazer incluem ficar com seus amigos, dormir uma boa noite de sono, festejar e dançar até as pernas doerem e praticar seus esportes, principalmente lutas com espadas. Também adora animais e usar seus poderes, sente-se útil e conectado com algo muito profundo de sua alma. Adora o sol, o calor, praias e ficar entre os demais, se sentir parte de algo.

O que te faz triste? Dias nublados, ocasiões tristes, ser obrigado a perder um dia bom dentro de uma sala com livros e preocupações, odeia problemas e os evita como pode. Não gosta de ser manipulado, ou de ações escusas, falsidade ou coisas e pessoas que tentam ser o que não são.

Esperanças: Sempre positivo, Avalor chega a ser ingenuo em suas esperanças e sonhos, como que tudo terminasse em um verdadeiro conto de fadas. “... E viveram felizes para sempre.” Para ele, o felizes para sempre inclui ele governando Avalor, o seu povo feliz, alegre e contente, uma família que ele adore com muitas crianças e muitos animais, com festas que durem dias e comida farta para todos.

Medos: Hadrían não tem medo de animais, considera todos como parte importante da natureza, até os mais esquisitos, não tem medo do escuro, mas tem um receio de lugares fechados, preferindo sempre lugares amplos. Também tem um medo muito profundo de não ser bom o suficiente algo que ele evita pensar porque no fundo sabe que não se esforça para ser diferente.

Sonhos: Hadrían tem anseios dos mais variados, desde muito simples como tacos no almoço, outros relativamente absurdos, como sexo a três até sonhos grandes como uma felicidade eterna e inacabável. Por mais que uma vozinha irritante de sua cabeça diga que as vezes a vida não é uma fabrica de realizar desejos ele ainda é positivo o suficiente para acreditar num “nunca se sabe...” 

QUE TAL DESCREVER ASPECTOS PESSOAIS?

Família: Família é tudo para o moreno. Hadrían pode ter seus desentendimentos com seu pai e não conseguir se conectar com o irmão mais novo mas não há nada que Hadrían não faria por eles. Elena é a única mulher para quem Hadrían já disse eu te amo e realmente quis dizer isso e ele tem sonhos bastante provincianos como encontrar uma boa mulher e ter muitos filhos uma família feliz e muito grande, para ele nada é tão importante quanto isso.

Amigos: Amigos e colegas, apesar de haver diferença entre eles, Hadrían coloca todos no mesmo saco. Talvez porque seja deveras ingênuo mas se doa rápido demais, dando devoção até aqueles que não merecem sua amizade. Se doar é algo fácil para ele, enquanto outros acham difícil se abrir, ele é escancarado, um livro aberto. A única coisa que o impede de se machucar é que ele realmente não tem expectativas com os outros, não espera que seus amigos façam coisas por ele, de modo que esses laços quase nunca são testados.

Estado Civil: Solteiro - E toda vez que tenta mudar isso nunca dura mais do que algumas semanas ou poucos meses. É muito livre  e  alegar ter problemas para se comprometer embora não tenha problema algum em aceitar aventuras de vida ou morte, se joga de cabeça em coisas potencialmente perigosas, tenha muitas tatuagens pelo corpo.

Terra Natal: Avalor.

Infância: Hadrían quase nunca era visto dentro do palácio, porque vivia escapando para correr com os meninos das vilas para ir ao lago ou para correr nas matas e florestas ao redor do castelo. Sua mãe, suas babás e os guardas tinham que literalmente obrigá-lo a ficar em casa, como um refém, para as aulas o que o deixava realmente mal humorado. Era na rua, no meio do povo que ele se via realmente feliz e em casa, o que motivou a decisão de Elena de se separar do primogênito para que ele fosse educado em Aether, longe das ruas, e esperava que o contato com outros príncipes e princesas fosse dar a ele algum tipo de referência. 

Crenças: Repete dizeres populares mais por costume do que por fé, apesar de professar ter uma fé, ele não se sente ligado a nada em particular além dos animais, da natureza, do sol em sua pele e coisas concretas. O caminho de Hadrían raramente seria o da metafísica e o do intocável, é imediatista e precisa de coisas concretas em sua vida, algo que ele não pode ver ou sentir é deveras muito complicado e ele não perde muito tempo pensando nisso.

Hobbies: Adora futebol, pratica com espadas, festas, dançar --- sendo um dançarino exemplar, passar tempo com os animais na floresta e flertar.

QUE TAL DESCREVER PRÁTICAS?

Comida favorita: Iguarias da culinária mexicana são seus favoritos. Adora tacos, guacamole, nachos, chili e não é assim tão chegado em sobremesas mas ele não recusa comida, tampouco.

Bebida favorita: Cerveja, e diferente do que se pensa, Hadrían não é exigente, não prefere as cervejas fortes e até as mais “fracas” caem bem no paladar do moreno que gosta mesmo é de uma “gelada” em um dia quente de sol.

O que costuma vestir? Hadrían não liga para moda, e nem tem um gosto lá muito confiável para o assunto. Apesar de gostar de cores, como vermelho, verde e azul, usando camisetas de cores vibrantes no dia a dia, quando se trata de ocasiões formais usa cinza, preto, e azul marinho como ternos, apenas porque aprendeu que com esses não é possível errar. Normalmente suas roupas são escolhidas por outras pessoas, com mais bom gosto do que ele, algo que ele não liga porque se é algo que outra pessoa pode fazer por ele, é menos um problema na sua lista de coisas para se estressar.

O que mais o diverte? Muitas coisas, Hadrían ri de quase tudo, comédias pastelão, ver seus amigos bêbados fazendo besteira, vídeos de animais fofinhos na nimbo, partidas de futebol, festas, boa música, sexo, comida, viagens, passar tempo com os animais...

Por último, liste PERSONAGENS FICTÍCIOS que serviriam de inspiração para o seu atual personagem.

Adrian Ivashkov - Vampire Academy Saga; Kenji Kishimoto - Shatter Me Saga; Benjamin Barry - Como perder um homem em 10 dias; Noah Czerny - The Raven Cycle; Emmett Cullen - Twillight Saga;  James Potter - Harry Potter Saga; Rhaegar Targaryen - The chronicles of ice and fire; Zeus - Mitologia Grega.

[aeronocacto]

Trailer de Anjo de Vidro [ Glass Angel] 

Crossover Twillight xAvengers

James "Bucky" Barnes/Edward Cullen

“ Ele lembrava de olhar a si mesmo no sol, sua pele ofuscando como vidro. As cores dançando como as asas dos anjos nos vitrais de igreja. ”

"He remembered looking at himself in the sun. The colors dancing in his skin, like the wings of the angels in the church stained glass."

[marinetesabadine]

Precinho camarada! Inspirado no Huawei P20, HOMTOM C8 entra em pré-venda com valor abaixo de R$340

O Huawei P20 e suas cores gradientes inspiraram o lançamento de várias nuances nas mais diferentes marcas. Uma delas foi a HOMTOM, que acaba de dar início à pré-venda de seu mais recente smartphone, o C8, apelidado de “Twillight phone”.

O dispositivo traz especificações básicas e um design também inspirado no P20, algo que associado ao precinho especial de pré-venda o tornam bastante interessante.

O Huawei P20 Pro está disponível na Carrefour por R$ 5.879.

O Huawei P20 está disponível na Amazon por R$ 3.499 e na Carrefour por R$ 4.199.

(atualizado em 16 de January de 2019, às 08:52)

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Precinho camarada! Inspirado no Huawei P20, HOMTOM C8 entra em pré-venda com valor abaixo de R$340 publicado primeiro em https://www.tudocelular.com

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