#meaow

[su-rodriguez]

Practice w scarababy

[ismaiils-world]

Follow me

[shadyshadiee]

been just copy pasting this but i like it im so poetic: Shibusawa Tatsuhiko is the most perfect character within the bsd fandom. Why is shibusawa so perfect? He is the most gorgeous being in existence, real or not. Somehow he feels more real than reality itself, more beautiful than tangible. Every glance, every expression, every detail is so flawless it leaves you breathless. His eyes hold galaxies, his presence demands awe, and the way he exists, untouched by flaw or time, makes him utterly divine. Yknow he isn’t real but it doesn’t matter. The desire to see him, to be near him, to be him, becomes overwhelming. Cosplay, art, dreams, anything to feel closer to him, to grasp a piece of the beauty that should not even be possible. He is more than a character, he is an experience, a force, a muse, a hauntingly perfect vision. It hurts to know he will never walk this world but that is what makes him unforgettable. He is eternally perfect, eternally distant, and yet he feels closer than anyone else ever has. Shibusawa is not real but my love for him is. Every moment spent thinking of him feels like a moment stolen from something greater, something sacred, and even if I can only see him on a screen, it is enough to fill my heart with a strange kind of joy and pain at once. His beauty is not just in how he looks but in how he feels, how he lingers in my thoughts like a dream you never want to awaken from. I wish he could step out of the screen and into my life but deep down i know part of what makes him so perfect is that he cannot. He remains untouched by the flaws of reality, preserved forever in that unreachable state of brilliance, and because of that he becomes something more than human, something eternal, a spark that stays lit in the mind and heart no matter how much time passes. He is a reflection of longing, of fantasy, of everything ideal and beautiful that the world can never fully offer, and so I keep returning to him, again and again, not because I think he is real but because he makes me feel something more real than anything ever has. He is comfort and fire at once, a paradox of stillness and intensity, stitched into the fabric of my imagination as someone my heart has chosen and will never stop aching for and I can’t help myself.

[thiccsys]

[whomoxa]

Freya. 😽

[catboy-posting]

meow

[whatmattersisyou]

Hua Cheng draws.

In the middle of the night, dim light kissing both his skin and the sketchbook he's pouring his soul into. Hua Cheng draws and the world is quiet around him, still, wrapped in a blanket of slumber. The promise of the first snow of the season is suspended in the air outside the window and it traps the city in a bubble of expectation and white, cold silence.

Hua Cheng draws. The only sounds are the scraping of pencil against paper and his even breaths interrupted by quiet huffs every time he has to put down the pencil and fix a line with a well-used eraser.

Hua Cheng draws, and the subject of his art sleeps peacefully mere meters from him.

Xie Lian looks like a prince wrapped in the red sheets of Hua Cheng's bed. His face is soft, mouth slightly open and eyebrows relaxed, consciousness so deep into the world of dreams he doesn't even stir when Hua Cheng stretches and the chair moves.

There's an unfinished sketch in front of Hua Cheng, but he likes it that way. Xie Lian's face is clearly recognisable in the few, expert strokes Hua Cheng traced: the line of his jaw, the bow of his lips, the way his eyelashes curve at the outer corner of his eyes as if to extend their shape. The hair is barely sketched and the smudge of the graphite reaches the edge of the paper, hinting at long, liquid strands of golden brown caressing his bare skin and making Hua Cheng's heart ache.

Hua Cheng draws and loves with everything he has -and maybe then some more- he loves and draws until morning comes and with it comes snow, gentle like a goodnight kiss.

[little-bunny-in-space]

adventure time!