twins :p

allama112  asked:

Are you ever planning to make a comic about a angsty situation where Apollo's eyes or helios eyes glow cause they so sangry (sad-angry)? I remember seeing something about it. You don't have to if u don't want to/weren't planning to, I just wanted to kno. Also your art gives me LIFE, and I absolutely love your style and your Greek mythology stuff. It's just, "OMG I'M FLAILING *WHEEZING NOISES*" Kind of art.

if u anger Helios, he’d kick you in the head and then proceed to forget all about your puny existence, but if you piss off Apollo, OHHHHH BOI GOOD LUCK……

3

‘Merry Christmas!’
'Hey, look – Harry’s got a Weasley jumper, too!’
Fred and George were wearing blue jumpers, one with a large yellow F on it, the other with a large yellow G.


for @reguluslocket

packing peanuts - ed

a/n: okay yeah maybe this is inspired by one of e’s recent snapchats. i’m still trying to get back into writing so be patient w me.

word count: 1, 293

~

Remnants of packing material left little mystery as to where your elusive boyfriend could be. Even without the turquoise packing peanuts strewn throughout the living room, the sad wave of ripped cardboard dangling from some packing tape on the dining table, and the leaflets of instructions sprinkled just out the bedroom door, you could easily pinpoint his location by the trill of his laughter.  You stood in the doorway just so that the width of your body fit within the crack of the door. You caught your shoulder on the frame, folding your arms to your chest as your eyes trailed over the boy splayed across the sheets.

Ethan appeared to be snapchatting, his phone cradled in one massive palm while his new camera was secured carefully between his lanky digits. The zoom of the lense was being tested past the long expanse of his legs as the image on the digital screen had settled to the deliberate wiggle of his toes. He was clearly entertaining himself, soft crinkles appearing in the corners of his earth toned eyes as the slope of his lips spread to elicit a few syllable laugh even after he’d dropped his phone to the bedside table. His entire stature was relaxed, the toned planes of his figure following a soft outline as if painted by the steady hand of an artist. You could almost feel the warmth of his skin, the rich honey of his complexion falling stark against the white of the sheets.

He was like a little kid on Christmas, so immersed that he didn’t realize you standing there until you moved for your own phone in the hopes of snapping the moment to your camera roll.

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