#their little pouts

[car-toons]

Your welcome for bringing this to your Tumblr feed!

[honehonn3honey]

Birthday boy 🎂

[phoenxwright]

norwegian black metal toki please return my calls

[nimpnawakproduction]

Bonus:

Vashwood comic: Concave

I saw this picture of the new Vash’s figure and I HAD to do something about it.

I can’t decide how to draw Wolfwood so he’s a mix between the ‘98 and 2023 design. His nose and his cleavage are, as always, a real pleasure to draw.

[aquato-family-circus]

do not separate them

ID: A sketch of Helmut and Bob standing close together while Bob clutches at Helmut’s arm very tightly. Mental connections indicate a triad between “contact”, “safety”, and “love”. End ID.

[hugheses]

pov quinn luke ellen damon nico ty trevor alex cole etc etc

[mr-ghost-face]

this is the man that had s1 Roy Kent shaking in his boots with rage? this 2 foot tall puppy? this literal baby? lol ok kent

[0vergrowngraveyard]

Sonic thinks tails is bad enough with puppy eyes at 8... how do u think he'd feel about puppy eyes as a baby?

so you know mind control? basically that

[benevolenterrancy]

I'm reading bk6 and have just met ghostfire!Hua Cheng. i am enamoured...

feng xin and mu qing are trying to be supportive of xie lian's bizarre new castle but they're drawing the line at the evil little fire demon that seems to hate absolutely everyone except xie lian

[comatosebunny09]

When you say he (Astarion) is nervous about initiating a kiss with you/Tav, I see him pacing back and forth by the fire clearly not acting like himself until you/Tav tell him to call his tits.

Lmfao at the “calm his tits.” 😂😂😂

The deer you’re whittling is no longer interesting.

Instead, you’re intrigued by your love, wearing a path into the soil around the fire with how much he’s paced back and forth.

Your lips twitch into a smile. Whatever’s bothering him, you’ll get to the heart of it. It’s unlike Astarion to be so anxious. The knit between his brows doesn’t suit his handsome face.

You set your carving knife down, leaning back on your hands, feet dangling from the log. “Astarion,” you caution over the crackling fire.

His shoulders tense. It’s like he’s been caught indulging in a naughty secret. He doesn’t meet your gaze, too busy running jittery fingers through his hair. He dons that mask of nonchalance. You see right through it.

“Yes, love?”

You pat the space beside you. Your tone leaves no room for argument. “Come sit.”

Silence stretches between you, save for the ballad of the katydids inhabiting the forest around. The air is so tense, you could cut through it with a blade.

You raise a brow when his lips tremble around a reply. It never comes. Your stomach plummets. Maybe something truly is troubling him.  

With a drop of his shoulders and a sigh, Astarion wanders to you, plopping down on the log. A good bit of distance rests between you. He’s rigid, avoiding your gaze at all costs. It’s hard not to when you look at him like that. A mixture of hurt and curiosity that makes something twinge in his chest.

Did you do something? Say something to offend him? You browse through the catalog of your mind for answers. Other than your usual banter, you can’t think of a single instance where you’ve done something to set him off.  

You’ve called him beautiful. Touched him with explicit permission. Acknowledged his boundaries. So…why?

Warily, you inch closer until your thighs brush. Astarion stiffens even more, a strained sound pinched from his throat. You contemplate backing off, but…well, something tells you to press on tonight. At least with subtle advances.

Maybe he needs this.

Absently, your pinky smooths over the back of his hand on his thigh. Some silent encouragement. Something is eating away at him, but you’d rather he reveal it in his own time.

No sense in trying to squeeze blood from a stone.

“I—” begins Astarion, wheedling through the mess of your thoughts.

You turn hopeful eyes to him, quizzically tilting your head. Grow a little bolder, gently placing your hand over his. Angle yourself closer, urging him to continue.

He wears something of a pout. Looks at the ground, a little contemplative, a little annoyed. It’s cute. Better than the somberness he wore before.

His eyes flit back to you, and the air is siphoned from your lungs. You’ll never get used to those eyes. The beauty they possess, the love they seem to exude only for you.

Astarion engulfs your hand with his. Takes a deep breath, as if he’s about to reveal all the world’s secrets.

Finally, he ventures, “I…want to kiss you.”

You blink. Relief surges through your chest. The rigidness you once held sloughs off, replaced by a pitying smile.

Is that all?

“Alright,” you say. Quickly shift to angle your cheek towards him.

You anticipate the brush of cold lips against your skin. Something chaste and abrupt to make your body hum with affection. To leave it aching for more.

But it never comes.

Instead, you’re met with a chuckle. An arctic finger slips beneath your chin, encouraging your gaze to return to your beloved.

“No, darling,” he softly chides. “Not like that.”

You stare at him, bemused.

There’s a humored crinkle in his eye. Sluggishly, he etches a triangle between your eyes and lips with his darkening gaze. Thumb cruises over your chin, and your lips instinctively part.

Realization settles on your shoulders. Your mouth forms around a quiet oh.

It would be your first time kissing like this in a very long time. You’ve never pushed him further than the graze of your lips on his cheek, knuckles, or the crown of his head. So, pardon you for being a little out of sorts.

A little giddy.

You find your wits scattered amongst the clouds. Feel like you’re dreaming as the forest and campfire dwindle into beautiful bokeh around you.

“A-Alright. I would…like that,” you wistfully murmur. Unconsciously, you crane your body closer, your lids drooping under the weight of his spell.

Astarion sifts through the haze and leans closer, your cheek cupped adoringly in his palm. Your hand clasps around his wrist, the other scrunched in your lap.

You’ve but milliseconds to admire the curl of his lashes before his mouth descends on yours. Pillow-soft and gentle, and you pour the deftest sound into his body.

He breaks away before you’ve any time to lose yourself in the suppleness of his lips. You whine softly, chewing on your lip whilst he chuckles. You yearn for more. Always do.

But you’ll settle for this, idly stroking his wrist with your thumb as he presses your foreheads together, appearing weightless with a youthful smile rounding his lips.

[swann-song]

[bizarrelittlemew]

Stede's little face + hand holding

[ihaveanaversiontodecisions]

quick John doodle before bed. he's so silly

[mizartz]

the child king

[thepastneverforgets]

zava's greatest accomplishment.

[tired-biscuit]

he’s such a grouch