My Exact Words Were, "I'd Love To Contribute Art To The Fandom But I'm Afraid My Drawing Skills Peaked

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My exact words were, "I'd love to contribute art to the fandom but I'm afraid my drawing skills peaked in kindergarten with hand turkeys."

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iQiyi World Conference teaser for Fox Spirit Matchmaker: Sword and Beloved starring Cheng Yi and Li Yitong (x)

WiP Wednesday -Barista!Au

Please imagine a tea towel on Barista!DFS's shoulder. I was so sure I had a photo save of YY like that, but no. If anyone finds one, I'll post another snippet😁 FDB is a fangirl, and DFS' life just got even more complicated. The aunties love watching everything go down.

. Kingfisher Feathers by Anonymous I binge read this fic the whole afternoon and lets just say I am inlove 🥺♥ political drama + wangxian = heaven

Papercraft commission of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian (and Li'l Apple and a bunny), in a pose inspired by Gustav Klimt's famous painting The Kiss! Lan Wangji may be a little disgruntled at being interrupted, but Wei Wuxian is, of course, laughing the whole time.

This piece had some of the most complicated layering I've ever done in a papercraft, which meant I had to take even more care than usual with how every piece of paper was placed and the order in which they could be glued - and I already take a lot of care with that, no matter what I'm making! But the extra time was definitely worth it - I'm really happy with how the final piece came out. ^_^ A very sweet scene for WangXian!

say you're fifteen and you see a swordsman dancing on a roof with a red ribbon, and you did not understand beauty until that moment. say you meet him near a waterfall and you spar together, half-friend, half-foe. entirely something else. you've wanted before, wanted to survive, to eat, to kill, to be stronger than anyone else. when you look at him, you want to win a different kind of war, one you have no experience in, one he has all he tools and medals for. you see him with different lovers hand in hand. you steal into his bedroom in the dark of the night. the two of you write a peace treaty together. during a storm he comes howling vengeance for a crime you did not commit, tears in his eyes. you kill each other.

say you never find him again. you find a man who wears his face, a man you think is him. he takes you home in red robes. you hold his hand while he wears silver and burgundy. the two of you drink together in a wedding chamber with a bright moon. you find a way to save him, you turn your back, and you never see him again. he does not show up to the memorial. the absence is the point and everything you love has slipped out of your hands before you knew it was gone. he won this type of war, you realise, standing there on that desolate beach, waiting for a ghost.