#Just Press Queue

[kraftykelpie]

Codywan hugs!

[deviouz]

matt murdock would so be the type to help you reach something high up on the shelf by putting one hand on your hip and leaning up behind you. he likes to hear how fast your heart will race and that sharp little intake of breath you take in. and when he hands you whatever it was you were struggling to grab, he’ll lean down and murmur, “this what you needed, sweetheart?”

[itadooori]

well. i started thinking about the dynamic between s2 gi-hun and sang-woo (last seen in this post). then i blacked out and all this got drawn

[ahollowgrave]

hey come here

reblog your own work. reblog it as much as you want. the dashboard is chronological (mostly) so you gotta put it back out there!! ok bye

[starflungwaddledee]

vote for starstruck in the grand finals of the kirby oc tournament!!! 🙏🙏🙏

there's only a day few hours left, and she successfully turned it around from the first poll update, so there's still a chance she could actually do it!!! 🥺💖

i still can't quite believe we made it this far in the first place, and Valfrey is an impeccable opponent!! win or lose the whole tournament has been such an honour, and it's heart-warming to know that so many people out there are supporting this totally normal waddle dee!!

thank you again so so much!!

[smokingcitrus]

as unkempt as he always was, i'd like to think that birkin at least tried to look put together in his early days. the middle part was him trying to look professional past the hairs sticking in every direction and the back of his haircut never looking quite right.

his mother's nagging about his appearance seemed to linger in the back of his mind even after he moved out, going days, weeks, years without talking to her. any real meaning or even importance behind the self-grooming was lost, boiled down to habit. taking a minute to pick through his matted hair with a broken comb in the morning was a ritual that kept him sane. it grounded him.

the evential side part was him letting go of the half-cobbled man that he used to be, relinquishing what little identity he had in pursuit of finishing his life's work. even until his final moments, golgotha had always come first.

[dailyfigures]

Shameimaru Aya ; Touhou Project ☆ Good Smile Company

[front-facing-pokemon]

[teasybee]

Well I suppose it is still Valentine's Day here...

[mellypluslina]

nail check (Melly dgaf)

[despair-tea]

this was just an observation my friend made a while ago but it got me thinkin' a little bit. Personally, I got over my aversion to sports by fencing in college. Coz it turns out I didn't hate sports. In fact, I think training and learning the rules and pushing myself to improve is super fun! That's the same stuff I like about video games. And despite being a life-long poindexter, all that physical activity felt GOOD, and it was nice to connect with folks.

What I hated about sports as a kiddo was the shame. I hated people acting like I ought to know this or that (despite being a know-nothing child). I hated being excluded and looked down upon for not being good. I despised the way the adults around me treated kids wrt sports. Also I couldn't see and had asthma and neither of these problems got treated until I was on my way out of high school (getting my first inhaler was one of the main reasons I was able to fence at all, in fact).

combat sports are great to me because they're all about that individual journey. I didn't have to worry about letting a team down who might yell at me later for my performance. It's just me and my own heart and my love for the game - THAT'S sports.

[aeolianblues]

the real fiction in a lot of band AU fics is the amount of time bands seem to have on the evening of a show!

[daybreakrising]

@apocryphis: forbidden lovers sharing a kiss in the shadows. (neuvillette to vautrin)

Stealth was a favoured skill amongst the gardes of the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol, and a skill that has served Vautrin well across his career. It is also a skill that continues to serve him well even when he believed he would no longer have need of it. Becoming one with the shadows, blending into the background unseen, is useful for observing suspects, for eavesdropping on illicit meetings, and for preparing ambushes. It is also useful, he has now discovered, for hiding from journalists.

It was inevitable, really, that his continued presence at the Iudex's side would draw the gaze of the newspapers – Fontaine is, as it always has been, a bubbling pot of gossip, stirred by the many tabloids that keep the rumour mill running at maximum efficiency. The people's curiosity cannot be kept at bay for too long, and journalists – he knows from past experience – have noses like bloodhounds. This particular journalist, he has on good authority from Sedene, is one of the more… relentless.

Instinct, really, was what saved them. A flash of pink hair spied in his periphery, and he had moved without being fully aware of what was happening. Fingers had curled tightly, urgently, around Neuvillette's wrist, his feet carrying him towards the nearest alley and out of sight before he finished processing the danger (danger was, perhaps, a little extreme, but the same sense of urgency applied). It was only as he rather unceremoniously pushed Neuvillette against the shadowed stone of a wall that he realised he had likely deposited them in a rather more… scandalous situation. A photograph snapped of the two of them taking an evening walk on a Fontaine street would be innocent enough, after all, nothing more than two friendly individuals enjoying a moment of quiet.

Being caught together in a dark alley, however… oh, he can hear the rumours already.

There is nothing to be done about it now, of course. Not until he can be sure that journalist has given up. He cannot risk a photograph of them leaving the alley, either. He leans back from the corner he's been standing guard at and shifts his gaze to Neuvillette's, offering the man a rather sheepish smile. "Ah, my apologies…" His hand still rests upon the other's chest from where he'd pushed him, lingering in a way that hovers upon protective. "I didn't intend to be so… heavy-handed." They are close, close enough that it would certainly raise eyebrows should they be caught, but he cannot bring himself to step back, step away, to put even an inch of space between them. There is the faintest glow of warm light spilling from the streetlamp beyond the alley's mouth, and it falls upon one half of that striking face so gently. It is unfair, he thinks, how beautiful Neuvillette is even when cloaked in shadow.

He spies the curve of Neuvillette's lips, the flicker of amusement in draconic eyes, and the corners of his own mouth quirk in response. Look at us, he thinks, skulking about like clandestine lovers. No doubt the same thought has passed through Neuvillette's mind, too. He feels a hand glide smoothly up his back, a touch chased by a shiver that cannot be blamed upon the cool night air; watches Neuvillette's gaze drop, briefly, to his lips. It is a different kind of instinct that has him moving closer, sliding into position against him until they are chest-to-chest and he can feel the slightly quickened thrum of Neuvillette's heart – a rhythm that matches his own, beat for beat.

Perhaps it is the close proximity, or perhaps there is something inherently exciting about sneaking around, but all caution is thrown to the wind as he leans in and boldly claims a kiss. The hand upon his back shifts, fingers dig into the fabric of his jacket, and a second hand cradles his jaw as his kiss is returned, and then deepened. His own hands drop to Neuvillette's waist and hold firm; the soft groan he makes thankfully muffled. Neuvillette tastes like crisp spring water, fresh and cool, but there is a heat to his kiss that is matched by the fire it ignites within the captain's core.

Something electric passes over his skin, and he parts from Neuvillette with a breathless gasp. A gloved thumb skims across his cheek and Vautrin can feel the warmth that has gathered there, a warmth that spreads down his throat, across his chest, a warmth that settles hotly in the pit of his stomach. It compels him to press even closer, to duck his head to skim his lips lightly along the line of Neuvillette's jaw, to lay a kiss upon his throat above that high collar. There is an urge there to loosen that collar, to explore more of that pale throat, to claim a little more of him-

And perhaps he would have indulged this urge further, had he not caught another fleeting glimpse of pink hair in his periphery as a relentless journalist scampers away at rapid pace. But no camera flash, he notes, as Sedene's warning to him echoes once more: Miss Charlotte is sneaky, and she is persistent, but she is not unkind. He smiles in the shadows, steps back (somewhat reluctantly) from Neuvillette. "I believe the coast is clear, my love." He murmurs slyly, his fingers lacing with his as he tugs him away from the wall. "I think it is safe for us to return home." And there is an understanding conveyed between them with but a look: to be continued… in a much more private setting.

[haveyouseenthisanimal-irl]

Back from my trip, though the queue will stay paused until Thursday (8/8) or Friday (8/9), as I need a day or two to unpack & recollect myself after traveling. Thanks for everyone’s patience!

[lostlegendaerie]

Let the birds out to play in the yard while I did chores yesterday and Funfetti turned into a Whole New Class Of Animal

[front-facing-pokemon]