holy smokes i haven’t been on here in three literal years.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Show & Tell
Claire Keane

Kaledo Art
taylor price
sheepfilms
trying on a metaphor

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Today's Document
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Game of Thrones Daily

Origami Around

⁂
Acquired Stardust
hello vonnie

Product Placement

Kiana Khansmith
art blog(derogatory)

Discoholic 🪩
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seen from Ukraine

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@tevinther
holy smokes i haven’t been on here in three literal years.
So that book you were reading…
Pikachu
(doodle) good friend / arch nemesis
My headcanon→ If Samson became a Templar again at DA2, “a bit bad old Templer"Samson come to Skyhold and fight for Inquisition.
alistair, who, raised at redcliffe until he was ten years old, rarely received a hug more than once a year, and got more attention from the dogs he slept with than the man who took him under his wing, or the servants he worked for.
alistair, who, at the chantry, learned that touch is a wicked thing, who received a pinch on the ear for trying to hold a revered sister’s hand in a moment of uncertainty, who was lectured on temptations and the mastering of them.
alistair, who was so accustomed to the barking of dogs and the distant hum of a busy castle, doing anything to break the stifling silence of the chantry (talking, humming, screaming-) and being punished for doing so.
alistair, who, for the first few months, had to learn not to cry himself to sleep at night in his small cot in the chantry, because there were no warm snuffling bodies to lull him to sleep.
alistair, surprised and shocked by: the comforting squeeze of duncan’s hand on his shoulder (touch is a wicked thing), the jovial slap on the back from a fellow grey warden (touch is a wicked thing).
alistair, who meets the warden and falls in love, who holds their hand whenever he can, who believes even the smallest of touches are significant.
Shena, but you can call me Reyes. I hate codenames.
Look, I have arrows. I can make this Coryphellus believe in those. Good enough?
the free city of novigrad
here’s an old death stranding sketch i touched up last night
JAAL AMA DARAV: PERFUMER EXTRAORDINAIRE
if you’re looking for the fireflies, they’ve all left. i’m dead, or i will be soon. got me some time to reflect… i dedicated my life to this cause, now i won’t get to see whether we make it or not. here was a group willing to do whatever it took to save us from this plague when the government was willing to retreat to ghettos, i couldn’t just give up on our country, give up on humanity. god, that sounds trite… anyway… still trying to save the world… good luck with that.