Especially in the fandom too. Like yeah obviously there's always gonna be the Yaoiyaoiyaoi and hey I like the yaoi too, but there's so much YURI too! And gender inclusivity and whatever the heck Avid and Water got goin' on. So the shipping part of the fandom is feeding well.

But then also the headcannoners and the familial love/found family lovers are FEASTING. CelistialMetals is such an amazing group, Graecie is precious. And it's fun that small character groups have popped up all over the place. The elemental quartet, idk many other group names but really all of them are super cool.

✨🍢 Entering the kitchen, Twynte! 🍢✨

Twynte has a sweet tooth as large as Magic Mountain (RIP) and a Very Normal 24/7 devotion to block people doing block things. After a year and a half of dipping her toes in Hermitcraft content, her brain resembles one of those gunky, gooey stim squares.… She enjoys long walks across WIP documents, fist fighting her friends in inconvenient places, and observing manic youtuber, Joel Smallishbeans.

✦ Find them on . . . TUMBLR | TWITTER ✦

I ADORE Avid's new character in The Flight!

Paradise has got a spot for me!

🔔 --•••-- 🔔

This was just supposed to be a quick sketch of Maddy’s flight character but I got kinda carried away and it turned into an hour and 45 min drawing

Close up ⬇️

scar has a bad habit of acting like nothing hurts him until it’s far too late to do anything about it.

grian used to think it was arrogance. then stupidity. now he thinks it’s something worse -- something gentler.

the kind of softness that survives by making itself easy to carry.

it’s infuriating.

because scar will laugh while bleeding. will smile through exhaustion. will insist he’s fine in that warm, easy voice right up until his hands start shaking around the coffee mug.

and every time, every single time, grian falls for it for at least a second.

long enough to hate himself afterward.

they’re sitting on the fire escape because scar said the apartment felt “too much like being inside a microwave dinner,” which means absolutely nothing and yet somehow made perfect sense at the time.

the city hums below them. neon reflecting in puddles six stories down. someone’s playing music badly through an open window.

scar’s shoulder presses against his.

not enough to mean anything.

enough to ruin him anyway.

“you’re brooding again,” scar says eventually.

“i’m thinking.”

“dangerous pastime.”

grian snorts despite himself. scar smiles like he’s won something.

that’s the problem with him.

he treats every tiny crack in grian’s armor like a gift instead of an accident.

scar tilts his head back against the brick wall, eyes half-lidded. there’s a bruise blooming dark beneath his jaw from earlier, ugly against warm skin.

grian keeps looking at it.

he hates that scar notices.

“it’s not that bad,” scar says.

“i didn’t say anything.”

“you made the face.”

“What face?”

“the one where you look like you’re about to either kiss me or kill someone.”

grian goes very still.

scar laughs softly, like he hasn’t noticed what he’s done.

or maybe he has.

that’s worse.

“you should’ve let me help,” grian says after a moment.

scar shrugs one shoulder. “didn’t need it.”

“that’s not the point.”

scar glances at him then, really looks at him, amusement fading around the edges.

“you can’t keep acting like it’s your job to save everybody,” he says quietly.

grian almost laughs.

because that’s rich coming from him.

coming from the man who will hold broken things together with bleeding hands and call it practicality.

“someone has to,” grian mutters.

scar’s expression does something small and painful.

there and gone.

“you say that,” he says softly, “like you think you’re not included in everybody.”

and there it is.

the terrible thing about scar.

he says things like that in the gentlest voice imaginable, like he doesn’t realize he’s reaching directly into grian’s ribcage and wrapping a hand around something vital.

grian looks away first.