seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Portugal
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from Spain
seen from Canada
seen from Italy
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Yemen
seen from Portugal
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Brazil
GAY PEOPLE!!!
Mother by Maia Baia
Art by WHISPERSLEO
Illario has taken control of my life. I mean, its okay, I wasn't doing a good job with it anyway.
Close-ups because the time this took me is ridiculous. If you like it make sure you let me know because I really feel im just screaming at the void HAHAHA /sobs
mi niño bonito ♡
[the end of the world] Caterina, resting one hand on Lucanis' arm: At least we'll die together, as a family. Caterina: Illario, you go die over there.
Collegues who hate eachothers
:D
We haven't even landed on Penacony yet & I'm already overwhelmed bro.
Honkai: Star rail | Annihilation Gang
Light, stage, actors... Are you ready? The curtains will soon rise on The Family's banquet, and the golden blood of Destruction will run all the same. Enjoy the woven dream of beauty, for the Ever-Flame Mansion will offer all to them
iridescence — Terzo x Caterina (OC)
Rating: E | WC: 2.6k | CW: Smut | Full story on AO3
A/N: I thought I got these two out of my system with the first fic. Apparently, I did not. Fair warning: this thing is spicy as all hell (and features a whole lot of references to lemons, which...is perhaps a double entendre, I'm realizing...am I exposing my fandom oldness here?). For anyone (i.e., me) who just wants to read a good old fashioned bump and grind makeout sesh sometimes, this one's for you. 🖤
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Preview:
It's a night too hot for clothes, muggy and insufferable after an afternoon scorching as Hell, and cracking every window hasn't helped. He'd complained about it for a full hour after he'd sauntered through her door—but nestled back on her settee now, watching her sway her hips in a bath of candlelight, wearing nothing but that pretty kiss of green and a glitter of carved glasses in her hands, the heat couldn't be farther from him. If anything: a promise. A glimmer beginning to bead at her sternum. Sugar and salt rising on the air, as much as the musk of evening pollen. He lets a fizzle of lemon and Prosecco sit on his tongue, swallows it down as his eyes climb her body. He'd paint her, if he could. If he had any gift for chiseling marble, he'd sculpt her where she stands. For now, lounging, he looks. ✦ Read More
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