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#art ho aesthetic
retrogamingblog2 · 5 hours
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Ancient Legendary Pokemon Pins made by GeekChickenStore
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waltz-of-letters · 3 months
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Honey Cake
Sweet and soft,
the honey embraces my tongue.
That heavenly taste of yours-
is my poison...
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2010s-nostalgia · 3 months
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🌈✨️2010s aesthetics tournament👽🥓
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b-r-o-w-n-o · 1 month
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🕷️otonoha🕷️
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verses-n-moon · 2 months
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"Ghar" is such a beautiful term. Like how randomly we say "Ghar ja rahy hain" "Ghar par hyn" "ye Ghar hai mera.." So beautiful and so calming. Just a piece of land, doesn't matter how fancy or simple, but we're all emotionally attached to it.
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nixotinix · 1 year
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Jackson + Holt Ghouls Rule (colourized)!
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(pls click OTL)
I had so so much fun colouring these, especially the white highlights. I changed a few minor things from sketch to final, but overall, I'm very happy with how they turned out! Jax's pants and Holt's skirt (?) and shoes were especially fun to do. But let me know what you think!
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house-of-no-sleep · 2 years
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Two thousand kilometres from home: the city I love, that brings me love.
Bangalore, Karnataka, India
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frameshiftworks · 7 months
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Thinking about making Frameshift all about cowboys instead
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dramasetter · 1 year
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The way to you (1966) Friedensreich hundertwasser
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sun-and-concrete · 2 years
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Movie theater in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.
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f1shst1cks11 · 2 years
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THE HEE HO PARTY IS DONE ♡(>ᴗ•)
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sketchonista · 1 year
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Kyle Ho SS23 shot at Paris Fashionweek
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erotetica · 2 years
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Pauldrons 2: electric boogaloo, but all hobbit character deaths could’ve been solved by keeping the plate armor they put on in erebor when they went outside
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chasingcosmicstuff · 7 months
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Tumblr is my emotional support. So glad to be back. And also who can't get over Kim Seon Ho in Hometown Cha Cha!? I am crying he is the best💟
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landinrris · 1 month
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ohmygod you have GOT to write a drabble about the norrix shirtgate of march 2024 ™️ please
Oh ho ho something like this? Last night Taylor wrote some dialogue that popped into my head (as I have been doing lately), and this afternoon Taylor fleshed it out a bit. This is more in line with a reaction to the shirt + the Instagram photo, but still, same idea and same crazy.
Lando’s just finishing toweling his hair when his phone starts ringing. It’s nine in the morning— probably Max calling to see where he is and if he can have another fifteen minutes on their scheduled meet-up time.
The caller ID isn’t Max though. It’s Martin, a selfie of the two of them from Australia smiling up at Lando from where his phone is sitting on the bathroom counter. Lando quickly counts back the ten-hour time difference and is surprised Martin’s even still awake after the long day he’s had.
Beggars can’t be choosers though. Lando slides his finger across the answer button and presses the speakerphone before Martin has a chance to say anything. “Hello?” 
Lando directs his attention back to his reflection in the mirror and sets about sorting out the tangled mop on top of his head.
“Are you trying to get me to out myself?” Martin asks point-blank, sounding semi-serious. Given the hour, he could also just be tired.
Lando’s fingers pause in his hair, and he glances back down at the phone as if it holds all the answers. “In what way?” It clicks in the few seconds between Lando finishing his question and Martin speaking again. He could easily correct himself but finds he wants to hear Martin admit to whatever embarrassing reaction he had to Lando’s post.
“Those pictures? In the shirt you stole from me? You did that on purpose.”
Lando can’t help the self-satisfied and questioning hum that makes it past his lips. Because Martin's right, almost. He didn't originally set out with the intention to take the photos wearing that shirt, but Lando woke up missing Martin a little harder in his jet-lagged state than he was prepared to. So, he shrugged on the shirt he’d stolen on the tail end of their France trip even though everyone would inevitably trace the origin of it. (Lando had caught Max trying to pretend he wasn’t looking at first, but rather than put him out of his misery, Lando let him stew.)
And then they'd stumbled across the new art that hadn't been in the graffiti alley last year. Max had looked at him knowingly, suggestively, this time not hiding what he was trying to infer, and Lando had taken the bait. 
Only later, as he was looking through the photos, up early again because of jet lag, did Lando decide fuck it. 
He and Martin talked about their plans for the year while they were in Vietnam, zipped inside their tent for the night and alone with their thoughts. They're not hiding anymore per se, themselves or their relationship. Lando’s finished with not just posting whatever the hell he wants because of what it’ll eventually look like. 
Hide in plain sight, Martin agreed.
Now Martin groans somewhat dramatically. “Menno had to take my phone. My fingers were hovering over the keyboard for too long and he caught me.”
“They were not.” Because there’s no way. If Lando didn’t know better, he’d think Martin was reacting to the more blatant thirst traps in his .mov post.
“Lando, baby, have you seen the photos? And you didn't warn me. What do you expect me to do when you’re sitting there looking comfortable and proud like that?” 
Just the implication makes Lando's face warm and his chest ache. It’s at least another month before they see each other in China, and the days feel exponentially long looking at a calendar. “I expect you to be a normal human who doesn’t feel like risking it all over an aesthetic picture. At least wait until I post another thirst trap,” Lando muses. He turns to prop his hip up against the counter and picks up the phone to bring it closer to his face to pull up Instagram.
Most of the comments are normal, taking the aesthetic at face value. A few people play into the tone of the bubblegum pink hearts. A few more seem to have the nerve to call him on what he’s trying to do.
“Post a thirst trap and see what happens.”
The smile that spreads across Lando’s face hurts his cheeks. “Maybe that’s in tomorrow’s dump. Guess you’re gonna have to go to bed to find out.”
A huff of laughter from Martin’s side of the phone might as well be music to Lando’s ears. “Fine, you freak. You can tell me about everything when I’m not about to fall asleep. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Can’t wait. Talk to you later.” The line goes quiet, much to Lando’s disappointment. He swears he could talk to Martin forever and not get bored— about everything and nothing at all. When Martin calls him at the end of his day, rested and recovered, Lando’s sure he’ll hear all about how the half marathon went. He’ll be on the brink of passing out himself, but he won’t care. He’ll lay there listening and counting down the days until next time.
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