I Hope You Like It :) - Blog Posts
Impassioned and bold and rambunctious they be!
Bunk Bed Junction!
If Rock Revolution be something you aim for
(Bunk Bed Junction!)
Then drop on the deck and flop like a gator!
(Bunk Bed Junction!)
Bunk Bed Junction!
Bunk Bed Junction!
Bunk Bed Junction!
BUNK BED! JUNC-TIOOOON!
(Cue Mayday popping up and strumming the final notes on her guitar.)
Oh...
Who lives in a sewer in Vinyl City?
Bunk Bed Junction!
Happy 10th anniversary!!
It was Aegon’s son, King Daeron II the Good, who finally brought Dorne into the realm…not with iron and fire but with soft swords and smiles and a pair of well-considered marriages, and a solemn treaty that granted the Dornish princes their style and their privileges and guaranteed that their own laws and customs should always prevail in Dorne. Dorne continued to be closely allied with House Targaryen in the years that followed, with the Martells supporting the Targaryens against the Blackfyre Pretenders and sending spears to fight the Ninepenny Kings on the Stepstones. Their loyal service was rewarded when Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, took to wife Princess Elia Martell of Sunspear, and sired two children by her. But for the madness of Rhaegar’s father, Aerys II, a prince of Dornish blood might very well have one day ruled the realm.
Marriages between House Targaryen and House Martell (requested by @diamondsinmyhair)
Pretty boy...
OC by @zayathekid
Endless Battle
Practicing with shading, and I don't know if it seems good.
It takes Kant less than five seconds, between a groggy Bison pushing him back down onto the bed and his skull nearly smacking against the headboard, for him to realize that he’s well and truly fucked. In a horrifying instant, all of his bravado, what little there was, is gone, leaving nothing behind but the hollow cavern in his chest where terror can take root. --- Or, a different take on the Kant/Bison scene from the end of episode three, sans the drugging, featuring: introspection, more angst than you can imagine, a sprinkle of trauma and (mostly) responsible, caring Bison.
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A fic for this lovely fandom! Please, come indulge my traumatized Kant brain worms :)
There’s a foreign blood pumping through his veins, calling out to him in the heavy silence, turning his once warm hands to ice. He wonders if the others can hear it, that harrowingly loud, screaming rush, that withholds sleep from him and chases his every waking moment; no amount of meditation could satiate it, that cloying weight that never ceased.
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Or, Zhuo Yichen has trouble reconciling his past nature with his present.
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Soooo.... I finally mustered up the time to finish this little fic!
Idk what to post today, so have this.
