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·  🪶⸻  𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜  𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧!  by  clicking  the  source  link  or  here  you’ll  find  #134  gifs  of  the  talented  winston  duke  (tobagonian,  1986)  as  gabe  wilson  in  us  (2019).  all  of  these  gifs  were  made  by  me  from  scratch  only  for  roleplay  purposes.  please,  like  &  reblog  this  post  if  you  find  this  useful  in  any  way.  hope  you  enjoy!

# 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓! by clicking the source link or here you’ll find 108 gifs of the talented candice king (american, 1987). all of these gifs were made by me from scratch only for roleplay purposes. please, like & reblog this post if you find this useful in any way.

tw: drink, food, blood.

don’t: edit, redistribute, resize, repost or claim as your own.

kieran, as he peers over, can’t help the meadow of flush that blooms over his neck, then his ears, then his nose and his cheeks. he can tell javier is deep in thought by the look on his face, mouth twisted just a might sideways, cocking his mustache awry, and the deep wrinkle sat between his brows. the ribbon he used matches javier’s vest perfectly, and the shine of the silk warms bright in the sun, just like every piece of jewelry and metal javier has adorned himself with. with this ribbon, javier’s hair sits lower on his head, ponytail draped down his nape and more hair framing his face in his bangs. kieran resists an urge to tuck one side back behind his ear.

kieran thinks that he looks like a painting, a muse, a love letter so heartbreakingly full of adoration that the only language it could be written in is bright swipes of pigment on a canvas. as he makes eye contact with the silk squinting around the red of a necktie, he thinks that javier may be right, if ‘girly’ could sum up ’poetry written in effeminate reverence’.

kieran always did think women made better art, wrote better books- found a better way to love. softer. warmer. prettier. like javier.

the world sounds like it’s underwater.

“i think … it’s very pretty. it suits you real well.”

earnest to a fault, the look in kieran’s eye dances gingerly with javier’s internal voice. it dips and sways him, and javier, despite his instinct, finds himself charmed by its rhythm.

“-b-but! i could take it out! if you don’t-“ javier looks down at himself in his knife again, the sunlight filtered through the leaves glinting a yellow green around his dark features, and kieran hands him patience on a silver platter. a rich blue makes friends with bright green quite easy, javier thinks. this is how he must look through kieran’s mossy lens.

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