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#I couldn't find any
theia-eos · 2 years
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kkaisarion · 8 months
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don't mind me, i'm just posting this moodboard of unhinged swiss for reasons*
*i need it for my swiss in heat gangbang fic
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ellemant · 17 days
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I'm going to attempt to create hang gliding poses for a future story scene, please wish me luck lol
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emys-123 · 2 years
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Dear Tumblr,
I will tolerate scrolling through one long post that I don't want to read. I can't tolerate clicking view post for the posts I want to see, which is, almost all the posts in my dash.
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familyabolisher · 1 year
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btw most universities to my knowledge keep their reading lists behind access barriers (ie. only students enrolled at the institution on the course in question can see them) so i thought i’d just let you all know that durham university has all of its reading lists available online for free without needing student access. do with this information what you will.
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nipuni · 1 month
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THE DOCTOR We had a pact, him and me. Every star in the universe, we were going to see them all.
My version of The Master and The Doctor in their Academy days 😊
A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon on april 1st!
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leroibobo · 2 months
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the church in the coptic monastery of the virgin mary in bethlehem, palestine. this unique church is built inside of a cave tunnel which connects it to the nearby church of the nativity. the holy family is said to have passed through it during their stay in bethlehem. saint helena, who established churches across palestine during her time, is said to have established this one as well. the coptic archbishop of jerusalem purchased this and four nearby homes in the 1950s, establishing the monastery and re-establishing the church. today, the site is maintained by two nuns.
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iamenits · 27 days
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The Gamesters of Triskelion
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zu-is-here · 2 months
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i hope this isn't blasphemy but imagine a Genesis!Dreammare AU? With Night being the one to eat the apple (Eve) and Dream following him (Adam)— maybe Nim could be the version of god?
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The Fall
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a2zillustration · 2 months
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I'm stupid.
I'm stupid and it made all these cutscenes awkward I'm so sorry Wyll.
| First | | Previous | | Next |
[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]
[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]
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snek-eyes · 6 months
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So I was thinking about what it means that Aziraphale is the POV character of all the season 2 flashbacks... until I realized that's not entirely true. Because while Edinburgh is narrated by him and the Blitz scene plays after he's reminded of it, there are two scenes in the Job story that Aziraphale wasn't there for.
First is the cold open with Bildad, but that sequence pretty quickly shifts over to follow Aziraphale, and we see him coming out of the memory.
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But the second Job sequence starts more clearly as Crowley's memory:
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Zoom into Crowley, zoom into the book.
So why does Crowley get this part? Why not just stick with Aziraphale the whole time? Well, if we follow the idea that the flashbacks are setting up for the decisions these two make at the end, Crowley's part here is small but decisive: This event is one of the big reasons why Crowley is never going back to Heaven. And Aziraphale doesn't get to be there for the biggest signs of it.
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This sequence is also the last time Crowley was truly on his own. I think it's significant that whenever Aziraphale isn't there for him to taunt, Crowley is actually pretty cold, a little impatient. It doesn't feel like he's having fun tricking these people, he's just trying to get the job done.
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Then we get the first of two unique transitions. It's a sort of shifting over:
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My theory is this scene is where we start to switch over to Aziraphale's POV, but we still start out in Crowley's, because...
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...we're just as surprised as Crowley is to find the angel here. But during the scene they literally switch sides of the room, and I think along with that we get the POV shift. We as the audience end up on Aziraphale's side as he's trying to believe the best in Crowley, while not really knowing.
What makes me more sure is that this scene ends with a different unique transition, a page turn:
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I think here is where Aziraphale gets absorbed in the memory and Crowley leaves. When we get to the bit of the story where Crowley's being nice.
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bloo-the-dragon · 4 months
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roccs
(inspired by this post)
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mrsducky · 1 year
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The man's a stealth pilot. Literally. Weapons systems officer, actually.
TOP GUN: MAVERICK 2022, dir. Joseph Kosinski
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pariskim · 2 months
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the sunny s7 finale makes me so crazy because its such an interesting delve into every characters thoughts about themself but specifically the way it portrays charlie and mac makes me so unwell. aside from the kid nicknames, and the teasing, and the always being together in the episode, the moment that really gets to me is not nearly the most emotional from the eps. its the scene where adriano is handing the marker to charlie to make fun of him and theres this immediate sense of urgency from mac that wasnt there before. because "theyre adults charlie" theyre safe from this crap now. and in the script of mac running over before charlie even was supposed to smell it like jesus christ. mac looking at adriano with such a genuine anger when he says charlie doesn't have to, almost threatening in his stance before adriano makes fun of him too. the childhood devotion and loyalty is so clear, more than usual, and it makes me so crazy. you can so clearly envision these two in this exact scenario as helpless kids. they were each others escape from the world and first unconditional loving friendship and in that moment you cant help but picture two scared little boys holding hands in the school yard. it really solidifies them holding onto those pieces of still being just ronnie and dirtgrub, small and dirty and hiding from the world together
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ghouljams · 6 months
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(The Day After)Halloween on the Farm (Ghost's Version) Rating: T, there's vague nudity and mentioned sex Word Count: <1k Tags: This is all fluff folks, short and sweet, Ghost x f!OC/reader, very and I mean very minor descriptions of reader, reader has a scar Summary: You spent all night last night policing other people's fun, now you can spend time relaxing in Ghost's company. If he'd come back to bed, that is.
The sheets fall off of you, the sun streaming over your stomach and creeping towards your eyes as it rises. You wake up just enough to toss an arm over your eyes. It takes you a moment of drifting for the scratching of pencil on paper to reach you. It's the only noise in the silence of the room until you groan and go to grab your blanket.
"Don't move," Simon tells you quietly. You smile to yourself and let out a breath, sinking back into the bed. 
"When did you get up?" You ask, settling in to listen to him draw. The soft drag of graphite is lulling, gentle and familiar. Simon is quiet for a long time as he works but you're patient, and you're not going anywhere.
"Hour ago," he says when his pencil stills, his fingers rub against the paper, "maybe."
You stretch a little, arch your back and twist your hips in the quiet. As long as he isn't sketching you can move, and you're quick to settle back into position. It's an attention you'll never get used to. The way you can feel his eyes drag over you, studying you with an open affection, makes you feel more beautiful than anyone ever has. He's not one to show off, but the few times you've seen his sketches they were amazing. His attention to detail is meticulous, every shadow shaping forms and adding softness, weight, to his sketches.
You wait for him to start sketching again. Each short scratch a new shadow that is rubbed soft by his fingers. You could almost doze like this. The soft light of the morning and the warmth of the house threaten to drag you back towards slumber. It's so warm in here, no wonder you barely notice the loss of your blankets. Simon must have turned up the heat after you fell asleep, easier than putting clothes on after sex you suppose. He stops sketching and you seize the opportunity.
"Can I see?" You chance the ask, he grunts and you hear the drag of his eraser.
"Sure." Your heart feels like it's going to burst. You move your arm from your eyes to check its OK to move and catch Simon staring at you. He really must have just woken up, his hair sticks in different directions, and he’s only wearing sweats. He's pulled one of the kitchen chairs to sit next to the bed, his shoulders hunched over his sketchbook. The pencil in his hands looks so small. He raises a brow, and that's good enough for you. He holds the book out to you as you push yourself up, and waits for you to take it from him. 
When you do you have to stop from pressing your fingers against the paper, you can't trace the lines of graphite as desperately as you want to. You don't want to ruin his art, but you can't believe what you're seeing is really you. You're not insecure by any stretch of the word, but the way he draws you… "Am I really this pretty?" You breathe, eyes touching on the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts, the soft part of your lips, the scar along your stomach so adoringly detailed. 
Simon hums, and you glance at him. He’s staring at you, watching you inspect his work. His gaze is so open it almost makes you want to praise him. You think he’d like that.
“No,” He tugs the sketchbook free of your hands and starts scratching his pencil against the page, feathering the strokes along your sketched lashes, “You’re prettier in person, haven’t gotten it right yet.”
You lean forward against your knees with a smile and rest your head on your folded arms to watch Simon work. He’s so gruff, so practical with everything, it never fails to surprise you that his hobby is so delicate. Maybe that isn’t the right word, careful? Meticulous you could buy, but that makes too much sense with Simon. No, you like delicate. It speaks to the care, the consideration in his art. You’ve watched him draw his own hands, so meticulous to trace every vein and scar, and yet looking at the finished product it’s almost appreciative. 
It’s definitely appreciative when he draws you. You know that much. You can see it. His eyes dart to look at you and back down to the paper, each line struck with purpose, each glance a calculation. And again you think that for all the technical parts, it’s loving. His sketchbooks are full of you, pieces of you litter every page, every inch. He’s packed full of you, just like you’re stuffed to the brim with him.
“I love you,” You tell him. He sucks in a breath, the same way he always does, almost disbelieving.
“Love you too,” He mutters, burying himself a little further in his work. 
“We should fuck when you’re done,” You mumble, closing your eyes to enjoy the warm house, the warm affection in your chest. Simon’s sketchbook snaps shut almost as quickly as the words leave your mouth. You peek up at your husband to watch him strip his pants off, and reach to push you back down against the bed.
You move with his insistent hands, and stretch out against the bed again, letting his eyes roam over you with a different sort of appreciation. He pulls your legs up around his waist as you reach for him, tugging him down to kiss him. Simon meets your lips all too eagerly, and you let out a pleased hum as you finally receive a proper good morning.
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mangofanarts · 4 months
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