art blog(derogatory)
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blake kathryn
Sade Olutola
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
we're not kids anymore.
izzy's playlists!
Janaina Medeiros
DEAR READER
Origami Around
taylor price
tannertan36
Acquired Stardust
Misplaced Lens Cap
AnasAbdin
@theartofmadeline
Stranger Things
Sweet Seals For You, Always
NASA
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Denmark
seen from Germany
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@dlartistanon
love love hatsusaki
of course i'd like to be writing fun little fics about saria leaving, saria leaving for two whole years and never responding, saria leaving and never texting back, muelsyse so so so hopeful but never demanding, losing hope until it comes back one rainy night as a tremor in a brush of skin. they bump into each other in the middle of a street market where the haze of neon lights and stalls and stations blur into a backlit dream, where it's obviously saria because she can hide behind sunglasses and jackets but she can't hide that frozen ache of an expression, stunned, softened, and muelsyse is ethereal, unchanging, then there's that stupid naive hope and they're watching an age pass by, or a single floating second, and the crowd flows around them like a river bending, so saria says 'hi' in that faint cracked yet gorgeous voice and it sends muelsyse toppling forward into her arms, stupid and naive hope, the voice she's been dreaming of drowning in since—
two years is a long time that they may never truly catch up because saria doesn't want to come home, home is filled with memories, home is fire and heartbreak and ichor, 'come back with me' muelsyse says and it's so damn tempting because she's sweet and charming and fluttering about saria's mind now that she's here and it took so long to forget but they've never been good at forgetting. they're walking through the market like old friends, old lovers, something less, nothing more, saria answers 'i can't' with no real conviction so they walk and walk to delay the inevitable collision, flash of a motorcycle, flash of a cigarette, 'come home' fades into 'don't go, why did you go, why did you leave (without me)' burning into tongues and flesh and suddenly saria is on her back with her eyes darting up along elven heated skin watching the saddest eyes close against her touch, so so so hopeful but knowing it's never going to be the same—
two years on and it's unbearable how nothing has changed
in a new world of bustling crowds and grungy alleyways, horns blowing and fingers scraping across sweat-slick foreheads, dusty with day, repetition and routine, there is a scrambling and thunderous expectation for a normalcy they will never return to. what's to come home to. what could possibly be left in the wake of her upending dream. well, muelsyse wants to say 'me' but she is struggling with the buttons on saria's pants and the shifting of thighs and abs and shoulders, 'me' she would say, if she could ever be demanding but she can't, and it kills her to let everything wash over in waves, desperately clinging in a tide though it never lasts, wonders why she felt the draw to come here in the first place and doesn't think about any silly questions or red trailing strings looped around her heart, valves pumping with the tender ache to be wanted, fingers curling around the one on the other side, the one to call her name in just the right way, just how she misses it, and she misses it so so so very much but they still dance to this very old tune, a broken record skipping, misaligned.
it's swelteringly hot inside and out, mostly inside, mostly outside, opens the window to let the air of sex and perfume out, unsteady in her convictions and oh this is new, a diamond's limits, drags a smoke with shaking fingers, staring through the glass gap and takes in the city lights, round and round and round everything spins in her head yet she remains stoic, shattered, psyche dropping to her feet, muelsyse watches and tries not to be upset, 'do you want me to leave' she asks, covers pulled up over her chest, vulnerable now, distanced, and saria says 'yes. no. i don't know' as if she couldn't know, as if they haven't known for the longest time and now it's all about forgiving (herself) and forgetting (another), but she's tried neither, so muelsyse begins dressing, slow and silent, and saria feels the crush of the cage inside her chest, 'i'm sorry. wait, i'm sorry. i don't know how to do this. i don't know how to keep us (from sinking, because i'm weighted, heavy, achored to a rocket to the moon)' but muelsyse steps close and kisses her lightly, saying 'i need you to be sure. i need you to know (i can't keep us afloat on my own)'
in the morning muelsyse is gone and saria is alone as if nothing ever happened and the air is still thick with brewing rain, soaking her with sweat, shirt sticking to her back, tongue sticking to roof of her mouth where it should have stayed instead of saying stupid idiotic things like 'stay, stay, maybe i'm in love with you' but saying it differently and somehow worse. saria downs her coffee and smashes the mug against the wall of her empty apartment, breathes in the foul stench of oncoming tears, and remembers remembers remembers remembers
“What was the point?”
She has Saria by the throat with just a look, fist closed over her heart, eyes boring into her like sunlight through pointed glass. It burns so often.
Saria stares back into the shadows. She has no answer they want to hear.
They're in the car at a drive-in theatre, watching a film she's never seen, drinking soda she's never heard of, feeling tension she's never felt. She cannot know what has changed, only that it's wedged itself between their seats, stifling the air.
Muelsyse places a single piece of popcorn onto her tongue and lets it melt before taking it into her mouth. Saria looks away abruptly.
“You mean the movie? The plot?”
Muelsyse pauses chewing, a waver in her breath. “Yeah.”
“I think—” Truth be told, Saria hasn't really been thinking at all, hasn't been paying attention. Within the metal confines of her car, every sound is amplified, every movement obvious. Hair strands, clothing creases, hands, hands, hands.
“Right… Makes sense…” Muelsyse answers vaguely to whatever Saria says, eyes glazed over at the giant screen ahead.
Saria thinks she needs a cigarette. Or a drink. She turns up the air-conditioning, hoping it will chill her nerves.
From the corner of her eye, in an adjacent car, she realises there is a couple kissing, no longer interested in the film either. She glances over as the movie lighting changes, flashing and flickering scenes, each time revealing snippets of motion through the blanket of night: silhouettes of an arm, a shoulder, a jawline. Things not even the dark tint of their windows could not obscure. Of course not. Then, silence.
The action has subsided on screen and all that remains are two shadows closer than ever. She sees it, almost feels it, when their bodies begin rocking.
“Nice,” Muelsyse comments, crunching on more popcorn. She's peering over Saria's shoulder with a playfulness that's been sorely missed tonight.
Saria doesn't jump, doesn't feel embarrassed, simply turns to take Muelsyse’s hand out of the container, holding it aloft.
It's true.
What was the point of anything?
“Saria—?”
Air unfurls from their lungs in soft breaths. So close. Could be closer. Should be closer. Saria lowers her gaze, ever guarded, and it seems to say, blink slowly.
Saria inspects the hand, stained with traces of butter, and brings it to her lips. She licks a finger, bites a knuckle, tastes the savoury and the sweet. Muelsyse's breath hitches at the sudden contact. Darkness settles, leaving only the dimmest lights to dance about the space, tunnelling their vision. Languid touches keep them occupied when words aren't necessary. Muelsyse only watches, letting Saria kiss her slender wrist. Once. Twice.
Muelsyse sighs softly.
“Mine?” she asks, speaking of a place.
“Yours,” Saria says, speaking of a secret.
"She calls herself my friend... I will temper my hate for her as long as she doesn't interfere with my work."
Imperial AU kids (+ fan design of Babbitt, Nakayama Festa's IRL son)
Momoka-san, I promise you as long as I'm here, nothing will happen to you.
Even the most consummate professional isn't above it all
Whenever someone acknowledges Hatsune by her name an angel gets its wings and especially if they acknowledge her name as Hatsune thank you so much for your service
Ahah, of course ^^
That is her real name. And as much as I'm firm on using it myself, I'm also a little bit conflicted because I don't think she should go by "Uika" for the rest of her life in public, but there's something undeniably intimate and special that Sakiko be the only one who calls her Hatsune.
Her name was used as a tool to hurt her by the people who should've loved her the most; to have Sakiko use it exclusively is like poetic reclamation.
Oh great Umayuri artist, thought on Digihalo?
Sadly I don't really ship either character with anyone (Digitan complimenting King's ass notwithstanding).
Though Digitan is a himejoshi, I personally don't see her being interested in hooking up with another Uma in a romantic sense, as doing so would pretty much go against her own rules on stanning her faves. Also her overall disinterest in yumeshipping, preferring much more to observe than participate, makes it kinda hard to imagine her in any relationship.
Gay things happening in my circle
horse yuri
Hi hi. I run @mmag-translations and also been following you for what feels like a millenia at this point (via og love live stuff) so I got a notification when you reblogged the TopAya story. Just wanted to let you know that it's technically a follow-up to this other story
💬 0 🔁 20 ❤️ 68 · A special someone | By Kalkan
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Oh, how lovely! Thanks for letting me know ^^
Waiting in the morning glow. | By Kalkan
Admire Vega takes Narita Top Road to a very special place to her. Umamusume, Admire Vega x Narita Top Road.
Read it on Dynasty Scans or under the cut.
some ayatop
Story Update: All Through the Night
Chapter Five: Darkness in the Distance
The thought of Teio’s lips against hers brought a drowsy smile to her face, and it lingered as she got out of bed and prepared for the day. She sang to herself as she bathed, as she brushed her hair. It was only when someone knocked on her door as she was finishing brushing and oiling her tail that she stopped singing, but she continued to smile because it was Teio at the door with servants bearing food and drink.
“I thought you might like a private breakfast this morning,” Teio said.
“I would, as long as you’re part of it.”
I like them;;
Hi! I just wanted to say I love your art and especially the way you draw faces. I mostly come for the uma/FE drawings but I can even appreciate the Arknight drawings even though I don't play it. Have a good day!
Thanks 0 v0)/
