#eating someone alive

[six-tooth]

just two gorls hanging out

[i-eat-deodorant]

FINISH YOUR WIP WEEK (Aug 25-31)

hello, so this is a thing me and a small group of people are doing, but anyone can join!

take a work-in-progress thing you've had in the back of a closet and wanted to finish forever--art, writing, craft, whatever--and finish it. then during the last week of august, everyone posts what they've finished.

people can post multiple finished WIPs, or just one. we can even do a tag for it. maybe #finishyourwipweek2024 ?

[fourswords]

fsa is placed at the end of the four swords subseries timeline and as such ganon canonically never breaks out of the seal of the four sword despite him being able to break out of seals in multiple other games. i like to think that the reason for this is because the four sword just straight up ate him over a long period of time. like from inside the seal

[hawnks]

By Moo Deng's grace, we will get through this 🙏

[morgana-ren]

Thinking about Astarion's parents and what it must've been like if they truly loved him and then one day he was just .. gone. Gone from their lives forever. Maybe his mother kissed him as he rolled his eyes and his father told him to stay safe today. Maybe he was a reckless, brash, arrogant and decadent young elf barely out of adolescence making his way up in the world but he was clever and bright and full of life and the light of their lives and then one night he just never came home to them

He just disappeared into thin air and his friends and family hadn't seen him and after years and years of misery and torture and horror, they were finally forced to accept their baby boy was dead, another victim swallowed by the gaping black maw of Baldur's gate, having a bodyless burial with a headstone carved in his remembrance because they couldn't take another year of not knowing. Of not knowing what happened to their son.

He was loved. He was loved and missed by someone. When he disappeared, someone mourned him. Someone he can't even remember after centuries of misery and torture. Someone visited his grave. Someone wept for him. Someone paid to have him put to rest. Someone loved him.

He prowled the streets by night that his parents searched by day. Endless. Dogged. Hell for a mother and father robbed of their child. Searching for a single sliver of silver hair in the crowd. His bright smile. His handsome visage, perhaps taking after his father. Perhaps one day he would come home. They could pray and pray that one day he'd find his way home to them. That he isn't dead. One day that never came— and never will.

Because he cannot even remember them. Even as he is free, he cannot remember. Just another thing Cazador took from him.

[canisalbus]

the ask about marriage recently made me think of that thing i thought up when we were chatting about Separation: Machete reading up about how there were some same sex marriages in pagan Rome ages before and disregarding the church for once to have a little ceremony with Vasco out in the countryside. and i thought your tumblr readers would like to think on that

Oh yeah, I remember that! I actually think about it every now and then, but I've yet to do any meaningful research on the idea.

Machete is kind of an antiquity fanboy and it wouldn't be far fetched to say that his fascination and admiration for ancient Greece and Rome might've made it a tiny bit easier for him to accept his orientation. And even if he'd feel uneasy about acting behind his church's back and the ceremony would be purely symbolic, the need to have their union recognized and sealed in some type of way would be immense.

[ewwww-what]

Hey girl, what the fuck is your problem?

[fi-aaa-na]

I think marcille’s “woah hey!!” gay panic moment is just engraved on my psyche now. It feels just peak lesbian. I quote it randomly with my partner. She quotes it back at me. Any time there is an unexpected boob (often, when two gay girls live together) it is the automatic response. The brain rot has fully set in.

[phatcatphergus]

It’s so sad how qtubbo thinks qfoolish is going to leave him and hate his guts over a mistake he made while trying to be useful again. He’s afraid that his one friend he thought would stay is going to toss him aside and possibly kill him for a mistake he can’t reverse.

[chiquilines]

Its been ages,,, i missed them

[kanachaka]

Mainly shifting bcuz I’ll only marry someone if they show me the purest love and bcuz of that I’ll probably die an old maid in this reality 😔 why settle for bullshit when I could have a man that memorizes the orders to my favorite restaurants, can actually communicate, ISNT an asshole, and buys me everything I want 😔😔

[mishy-mashy]

THE WAY YOICHI CAN'T LOOK HIS BROTHER IN THE EYE UNTIL KUDO IS STANDING BEHIND HIM

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ August Slipped Away - [Part 1]

♥ next | masterlist

♥ pairing: charles leclerc x carlos sainz jr

♥ summer romance

♥ inspired by the folklore love triangle

♥ 501 words - short fic but a part of an ongoing series

♥ a/n: none of these pictures are mine, I found all of them on pinterest. cross posted on ao3

The salt air in Monaco was a nostalgic feeling for Charles. The sweet memories of his childhood rang in his ears but the more recent, tragic moments swirled with them. His home country never reciprocated the same amount of love he had for it. Nothing seemed to go his way here.

It was a summery morning down by the Mediterranean Sea. A group of seagulls flew by the coast where Charles was watching the sunrise and drinking his coffee. He spotted a few couples on an early walk and a group of men playing volleyball. It was a delicate moment until a not-so delicate object struck his face. The pressure knocked his head against the rocky wall he was sat at and he instinctively clutched the back of his hair. He looked up in surprise, a man rushing over to him.

"Mierda, are you okay?" he asked, eyes darting all over Charles.

"Yea..." Charles mumbled, staring down at the spilled coffee that had flung out of his hand and landed on the ground.

"Let me buy you a new drink." the man offered, holding his hand out to help Charles up. Charles took his hand, standing and brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes.

"You don't have to-"

"It's the least I could do," the man cut him off and smiled. "I'm Carlos. Sorry for hitting you in the face." he laughed softly.

"Charles," he held his hand out. "And don't worry, it's fine."

Their hands gripped each other's gently, thumbs lacing together in a shake. They lingered there for a moment, savoring the warm touch and taking note of the way Carlos' hand practically swallowed Charles'.

"Now how about that coffee? I could use some of my own." Carlos smiled, breaking his hand away.

~

There was some sort of unbreakable spark between the two. Smiles and laughs were shared throughout the summer months. They'd spent days together on what an outsider would describe as dates. Gelato, beach trips, and long walks around the small country.

On this particular evening Charles invited Carlos to his apartment. Carlos noticed the intimate details of the Monegasque's place: the rust on his door, a selection of sweet teas, and a light cream colored cardigan draped over a chair by his kitchen table.

They sat on the couch together talking about their lives until their gaze locked, shattering their oblivion to the tension in the room. The visit to Charles' apartment was clearly not just a friendly invite. They exchanged soft kisses and breathy whispers, stumbling off the couch into another room. Maybe they didn't expect to be waking up next to each other, but they both knew they wanted it.

The sun blazed through the curtains, a slight breeze trickling through a gap in the window. Charles woke up first, rolling over to admire the man lying in his bed. He soaked in the feeling of Carlos beside him, taking a few deep breaths. It felt like a weight had been lifted. Like a curse had been broken. 

[lfloryl]

i was drawing my designs for Points to use as reference later and liked in particular how ixol was turning out so i decided that i want to post it :3

[bergselise]

[no27-autonation-honda]

congratulations to Mme. Pascale Leclerc, who has surely just experienced both the funniest and most unhinged weekend a mother could ever have. Dear fucking christ, I hope your middlest son brought you a bottle of champagne for yourself, ma'am.