FINALLY FINISHED DRAWING THIS I LOVE BOKUAKA SO MUCH OKAY

this is it. this is the single greatest post i’ve ever seen on this god forsaken planet

calcified heart spell 💎

a spell to protect your emotions // hold weak moments until they can be private

💎 gather: clay, a bruised peach, eggshell, rose, and sea salt

💎 grind the eggshell, rose, and sea salt together. mix with the clay

💎 take the pit out of the peach to keep as a charm.

💎 cover the peach with the clay, then bury the peach.

💎 your heart will be protected, but it will still be soft on the inside.

hey tony? hey mr stark? I know you’re in a bit of trouble and all but I believe in you. I know you’ll make it home alive. but I have one request. just one. it’s quite small, you see. as you come home could you maybe say goodbye to oppy for us? thank her for her work and resilience? we’d appreciate it a lot, and we know she would too. its quite dark, you see, and she’s scared. we’re scared. its dark and lonely up there, and oppy needs some reassurance that she’s going to be alright. that is all, mr stark. i’ll let you fly home in peace.

sadness

realization

resolve

guilt

acceptance

I think that's the moment where he realizes what Mage-Viktor wants him to do.. Viktor didn't say 'hey, i need you to shoot me', but when he gave him the hammer.. the look on Jayce's face says it all. Even his hand is trembling 😭 Jayce "I'm ready to kill because you asked me" Talis the same Jayce who went spiraling when he saw enforcers killed because of his decisions, who accidently killed a kid and tried to make peace with the undercity to prevent more death..

Y’all I just realized this shit

白雲 -- Shirakumo

白(Shiro) = White  雲(Kumo) = Cloud

黒霧 -- Kurogiri

黒(Kuro) = Black  霧(Kiri) = Fog

I was having fun looking up what anime character’s names mean but this one just made me sad.

fanfic authors after writing a pretty solid short fic where the main couple finally gets together: …and then they told all their friends, and they all squealed and everyone clapped

“You were beautiful”

“i’m mental about you” and “you’re magic” and “anything for our moony” 

sometimes i see viktor arcane fanart and i think it’s him

Here’s the finished illustration I worked on during stream last week, titled “Well Dweller”. Give it your sandwitch and run, Emil!

And today’s drawing stream will start in an hour, usual place (my Twitch) usual time, see you then. :3

Art is from my webcomic “Stand Still. Stay Silent”, you can read it ->right over here.<-

This is how it starts:

His mother is French. An ice dancer, beautiful as they come; fluid on her feet, light on her toes. Her hair is like molten silver. She gives it to her only child. She expects a daughter (to be named Victoire), so convinced the child she carries will be female, a little dancer like herself.

But his mother never seems disappointed that she gets Victor instead. 

Victor loves her, he loves her, he loves her until the day she dies.

He keeps her alive with his skating, ma petite lune, the starlight shadow of the woman who gave him life. He does it for his Russian father, for himself. He wins every medal, every competition, stuns with every exhibition. He is beautiful, he is fearless, he listens to no one and nothing can stop him. 

He is his mother’s son, and like his mother, he is made of charm.

He smiles like the sunrise, spins like the ocean breeze, dances like a storm with his silver spray of hair billowing behind him like the fog off the sea. He is a thousand rainbow colors in the sun and pale as the stars, too distant and shining to touch.

But he aches for it. Oh, how he aches. 

Victor’s father passes from lung cancer after a lifetime of smoking, ever the artiste his mother fell in love with. In truth, he died long ago from a broken heart. 

In between his short program and his free skate at Worlds, Victor cuts his hair off in the hotel bathroom. When his blades cut into the ice the next evening, the audience cries for him. 

And he keeps going.

Strong. Bold. Beautiful. He makes his money from sponsorships and prize winnings, sells the family home and buys himself a flat in St. Petersburg, makes himself a refuge for Makkachin’s sake if not his own. It’s clean. It’s empty. It’s nothing like what he grew up with, his mother’s hair combs strewn about, pictures on the walls, his father’s paints and pastels and books, so many books. He keeps the books, but precious little else.

And he keeps going.

It’s hard out there. He pulls away from Yakov as he sees his coach’s marriage crumbling and can’t imagine a world in which love does not last a lifetime. He sees Yuri Plisetsky come into Yakov’s tutelage, his mother and father split apart at the seams, so he lives in poverty with his grandfather. Yuri never knows that Victor sponsors him that first day, makes sure Yuri will always be able to skate the way he loves (and he loves such precious little else). It’s a silent agreement that no one tells him. Nikolai doesn’t mention it. Yakov would never dare.

And he keeps going.

Victor wins and he wins and he wins and he wins, but every day feels like losing. 

And he keeps going and going and going until—

—a boy breaks open in front of him on the ice. It’s the most honest suffering Victor has ever seen. Victor wants to talk to him, wants to comfort him, wants to say I know, I know—

But he turns his back to Victor as he flees, and Victor is left alone again.

Yuuri crashes into him two nights later, steals his breath and his drink and his life and makes him smile, holds Victor’s hopes and heart in his hands and digs in until they both bleed. 

He’s stubborn, he’s a mess, he’s painful, he’s so unbelievably beautiful.

Like his mother, Victor falls for an artist—a man who makes music with his body on the dance floor, on the ice. 

And this is how it starts.

now with this companion piece