#woah love these!

[mroddmod]

they are like puppies. 2 me

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dog Meshi.

[pokimoko]

I can't keep being fundamentally changed as a person by animated movies, it's just not sustainable.

[shepscapades]

Surely this will have no negative consequences whatsoever!

[mellblogss]

It took all of me to walk away from you.

[sallymew4]

anime Mob not being as sassy as manga Mob was truly a loss

look at these

it even looks like he’s kind of grinning

[coveredinsun]

i’ve seen gimleaf fics where they each try to find out how to court by the other’s traditions. and i love those, so i think they ought to be taken a step further. and i think the way to do that would be, naturally, to make bagginshield real. allow me to explain why. ahem. after the ring is destroyed, girlfailure legolas spends two weeks poring over The Ancient Texts and stressing because his one (1) friend who WOULD help him (that’s aragorn) knows jack shit about dwarves beyond the surface (no pun intended) (well gandalf knows things but gandalf is a bitch) (he would just smile at legolas knowingly and wish him good luck instead of giving him answers).

so alas, girlfailure “shit tier ass elf” legolas is left to like, idk, sulk or something in the garden he starts at the Bestie Residence in minas tirith. and after like 2 days sam’s had enough he’s like “dude your vibes are upsetting the plants.” and legolas is like “my bad bro. it just seems i know nothing about dwarves which i probably should’ve thought about before, by elf standards, getting hitched in vegas.” and sam is like “oh dwarves? just ask mister frodo ^_^ he knows tons about dwarves!” and legolas is like “what the shit? him in particular? why does he anything about dwarves?” and sam leans in reaaaalllllll close and whispers behind his hand, “well you see mister elf, mister legolas, sir, there’s always been a very healthy amount of rumors that go around in the shire about mister frodo’s uncle, mister bilbo, and the letters he used to exchange with a certain king under the mountain.” and legolas, who was THERE, is like

[mustfindcreativeusername]

Sometimes I remember he died, he was dead for real, but SO MANY people loved him SO MUCH that he was brought back to life and got to have so many more adventures and get old and eventually retire and yes it's a fictional character but sometimes I think about that and I have to lie down and have a cry about it. We love you Sherlock Holmes

[hyunpic]

240711 hynjinnnn instagram live

[wilkoakdraws]

Hyperfyxation going strong so here's some memorable quotes of the jarchivist and mr. m.k. blackwood + my thru-seasons design chart

[polinsated]

the orange butterfly is a potent symbol of transformation and rebirth. its colour, much like the fiery hues of a sunrise, signifies the dawning of a new chapter

[silliemop]

angeryyyy!!!!

[myiliterallyhavenolifegoals]

i'll be honest, as soon as edwin's personality was firmly established as Detective Inspector Bitch™️ i genuinely expected charles to be off to the side like "uuugh 🙄bloody hell this guy again, G O D you're so annoying (derogatory)", so you can imagine my utter delight that whenever edwin gears up to be just Insufferable, charles is simply watching him like

[accecakes]

I felt like drawing ladies!!

Do you think Fem! Ghost would wear her hair in an iconic british bun? 🤔

[hachiane]

a/n — needy sylus, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive (nothing sexual), modern!au sorta if you tried hard enough

count : 486 words

Sylus Qin — the type of boyfriend to come to your home unannounced after work keeps him up until ungodly hours of the day.

When he arrives, he texts you that he’s outside your door, whilst constantly knocking on your door that gets increasingly louder with every passing second as you scramble to get out of bed.

You finally answer the door and Sylus stands there, leaning on the door frame and towering over you, like he usually would. You can see the slight furrow in his eyebrows and the way his gaze unabashedly rakes over your form in your (regrettably thin) sleepwear, red irises never settled.

"You should be resting! It’s 2:30 in the morning!"

Sylus scoffs, "Must you push me away when I’ve come all the way here to see you?"

"Your knocking could have woken up my neighbours!"

"Tsk… And?" His gaze darkens.

"A-Anyway, we can meet later—"

"I can’t wait until later."

His frustration is clear when he grabs your wrist suddenly and drags you out of the door. It must have looked curious to anyone watching: a well-dressed Sylus in his professional two-piece, pulling you half-dressed down the well-lit hallway.

He pulls you into the stairwell, letting the door slam closed behind you. He sits on the steps and drags you unceremoniously onto his lap. His hand immediately finds their place, first on your hip, then dragging up the small of your back, pulling you closer to his chest. 

"Sylus! People can just walk in!"

"So? Let them."

Not another second wasted, his other hand comes up, fingers planting into your chin and pulling your face up to his, then slotting his lips onto yours. 

When Sylus kisses you, it could be one of two types of kisses. First, the chaste kind where you barely feel his lips touch yours, with him pulling just out of your reach and gifting you with his teasing smirk. 

You could immediately tell this is the other kind of kiss: the slow, deep, syrupy kind that has him keening lowly under his breath, as if whatever that’s been weighing on his mind is suddenly lifted -- growling like a starved lion finally savouring his meal. It has you losing all fight and melting into his embrace instead, engulfing you in the remnants of his musky cologne and hyper-focused on the way his lips melds with yours. As if he's mapping out every valley, crack and crevice of your lips, committing it to memory, satisfying his fill after craving for so long.

And when you pull away, you feel him chasing after your warmth, touching foreheads and stealing your share of air.

"Sylus...?"

Behind your closed eyes, you feel him chuckle low, as he drops his head and plants his chin on your shoulder. A ghost of a kiss greets your bare skin as you hear him whisper, "I just missed you so, so much, sweetie."

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]